Enjoy!
Chapter 5: The Publicist
As it turned out, selecting a health insurance plan was not as quick and easy as it seemed.
There were quite a few elements to sort through - did the plan include dental? Vision? How much were the copays? Did Erik Lenoir really mean choose any plan? Because if it were up to her, she would choose the one with the smallest possible deductible, but that would also mean the premium would be insane. Would that look bad? Was she supposed to choose a plan that included life insurance? Did she need life insurance - who would she actually leave anything to? Raoul, she supposed, but damn was that morbid. Still, anything was possible. After the death of her father, anything was definitely possible. No one had seen that stroke coming.
With depression thoroughly renewed - thanks, brain, and your infuriating lack of serotonin - Christine kept looking.
Now, the thing about Erik Lenoir and his employees was that, apparently, they all stayed up incredibly late.
Lenoir himself had emailed her at two in the morning, and she'd very quickly responded.
Tonight - a Saturday at nearly eleven thirty - she received another email pop-up. This one was from someone she didn't recognize. Nadir Khan. But the subject line made her click faster than was probably decent.
C. Daaé job offer follow-up
She read.
Ms. Daaé
I am Erik Lenoir's publicist. It is my understanding that, as of this afternoon, you have been offered the position of working as his professional assistant. I believe that it is imperative that we meet at your earliest convenience. Myself and Mr. Lenoir's personal assistant will be in attendance.
Please let me know of a time that works for you.
Nadir Khan
Publicist to Renowned Composer Erik Lenoir
Fucking…
Why This entire weekend was nothing but one long anxiety attack.
What on Earth did this man need to meet with her urgently about? Was there a problem with Erik Lenoir himself, like Raoul had hinted at? Was there a problem with the job? A problem with her?
Probably a problem with her.
Blowing out a long, annoyed, nervous breath, Christine emailed back, too nervous to include a proper greeting.
Hi,
I am available now, actually.
Christine
The reply came barely a minute later. No words. Just an invitation to a Zoom meeting.
And honestly, Christine would have rather jumped out the window. But now was not the time to indulge in her own hatred of video calls and all of the flashbacks they brought back of online theatre classes at college.
Heart in her very nervous stomach, Christine changed out of her PJs, back into the blouse she'd worn today. She applied a quick layer of lip gloss and tied her hair back. And she clicked the link.
Two men were waiting for her, each in their own separate little square. A younger, white one, with a shock of fiery red hair and a look of boredom in his green eyes, a splattering of freckles across his nose, sat in what looked like a kitchen, probably at an island counter. He had headphones on and rested his chin on his hand. He was maybe in his late twenties. The name in the bottom corner of his screen said j. bernard. Christine recognized, of course, that this was Jules.
And an older one, likely forty or fifty. He had light brown skin and salt and pepper hair, as well as a clean, trimmed beard that lined his mouth and covered his chin. He sat in an office, with a bookcase behind him. He smiled, though it didn't reach his eyes.
Jules didn't bother with such politeness. He looked like he wanted to be anywhere but here.
"Ms. Daaé?" said the older gentleman.
"Yes."
"Excellent to meet you - and good to know that you keep similar hours as the rest of us. I am Nadir Khan, Mr. Lenoir's publicist. Also in this call is Jules Bernard. How are you doing this evening, Ms. Daaé."
"I'm fine."
"Fantastic to hear! Now, I understand that you were offered the position this afternoon."
"Yes."
"And I also understand that Mr. Lenoir conducted only one interview."
Her stomach turned to lead. Yeah - it was definitely a problem with her.
"Yes. Just one. He offered me the job on the spot."
"That's what he said. He also said you interviewed well. I imagine you were likely more talkative than you are now." He laughed at his own joke, but all Christine felt at that was annoyed.
To her surprise, Jules piped in, "It's nearly midnight, Nadir. I think she's probably just tired. I know I am."
Christine felt grateful for Mr. Lenoir's personal assistant. She had the feeling she'd get along better with him than with the publicist.
"Of course." Nadir continued smiling. "Not a problem. Christine - can I call you Christine?"
She nodded.
"Christine, I wanted to have this meeting because - well, this was not something that Mr. Bernard nor I had anticipated. We had no idea that Mr. Lenoir had already selected someone. The job listing…you're an NYU grad?"
"Yes."
"And I can guess that you saw it on the alum instagram?"
"Yeah." She, like all NYU theatre grads, had been encouraged to follow the theatre alumni instagram page. Everyday, there was a new audition, new opening for stage management or lights and sound, new theatre-related job of any and every type in New York City. Everyone from recent graduates to people who'd left with their diploma forty years ago followed it. But it was a private account, and you were only invited to join if you reached out to the page owner directly with proof that you were a graduate of theatre at the school.
Sometimes, jobs like the one for Erik Lenoir popped up. Not a job in theatre, but theatre-adjacent.
"Right." Nadir steepled his fingers under his chin, which Christine could only guess was a bad sign. "Here is the problem. That job listing was not meant to go on that page. I had reached out to several experienced executive assistants who have ten or more years in the industry, and I can only guess that they or someone they know reached out to that page and told them about it. It's no longer up, if you were to check. Mr. Lenoir was inundated with applications before I realized what had happened. But…unfortunately, I had already selected someone to take the job when Mr. Lenoir told me he had hired you."
"I see."
"So the job has already been filled, you see."
She nodded. "Right. Yeah. Of course.
"I'm glad you understand."
"So, basically I'm fired before I even start?" She let out a little laugh.
"No." That was Jules who spoke. "You're not, because you're who Mr. Lenoir picked. Nadir is just letting you know that he already chose someone before he knew about you."
Christine blinked. "So…I'm not fired."
Nadir now looked fully uncomfortable. His smile was tight. "I am suggesting that you resign."
She felt her eyes narrow. "Why would I do that?"
"This is a difficult job with a lot of responsibilities. You just graduated college, with no experience in the field of professional assistant work. You will have to manage his emails, his scheduling - and he is a private and busy man. One slip-up and you'll potentially be ruining his career. He chose you as his assistant, so obviously the job is yours, but this could become very overwhelming very fast."
"Mr. Lenoir made it sound like it wouldn't be too bad."
"And I personally do not understand why Mr. Lenoir selected you as his assistant. Except for the fact that he feels he is doing you a favor. Your father was Gustave Daaé, was he not? I'm sorry for your loss."
That was like a real punch in the gut. Holy shit. She couldn't even think of a response.
"Jesus Christ, Nadir." Jules looked just as appalled. "Okay. Christine. Look. We set up this meeting to ask if you would reconsider being my boss's professional assistant. Basically, asking if you would consider resigning because Mr. Khan thinks Mr. Lenoir made a mistake. But it's also not our place, it's yours. If Lenoir offered you the job, it's your job. So now it's a yes or no. Are you going to resign?"
And Christine was, honestly, feeling so much spite toward Nadir Khan that every sticky-note next to the bottle of marinara dissolved in her mind. She wanted to piss this publicist off. It was like a fire within her, encouraging her to do whatever it took to be the best damn professional assistant she could be.
"No. I'm not."
Nadir Khan's lips pursed. "Right. Are you sure?"
"I'm sure." She made sure to dip her voice in ice before letting the words leave her mouth.
"Are you absolutely sure-"
"I think that's settled, then." Jules lifted his head. "It's almost midnight, and I believe I hear a screaming baby in the next room. Can we wrap this up? I need to be up at six to deliver Mr. Lenoir's breakfast to him, and then I'm taking his suits to the dry cleaner."
Nadir's nostrils flared. "Ms. Daaé, I will give you tonight to really think about it. You might be making decisions in the heat of the moment." Nadir gave another smile, close-lipped and lacking warmth. "Feel free to reach out if you change your mind."
Nadir exited the call, leaving just Jules and Christine.
"Between you and me," he said, "I'm glad you kept the job. He'd be pissed at Nadir and me if you'd quit because we convinced you to. And it's actually not going to be that bad. Despite how standoffish the boss seems, he's open to questions all day long. He'd rather you feel confident and ask a million questions, than you leave him alone but be unsure - and potentially mess things up. Before my kid was born, I did both the personal and professional stuff. So, you know, feel free to reach out to me too. I never sleep, so text whenever. I'll put my number in the chat."
Jules's number appeared in the text box. And then he logged off, leaving Christine alone staring at her own tired expression.