The Office
J.F. GOLDBERG
Another Monday with the same issues there are every week. It’s like everyone forgets how to do anything over the weekend, from deadlines to meetings to forgotten passwords, it feels like it’s lunchtime before we actually get the week started. Well, for those that have a life outside the office that is.
Then there are the enthusiastic ones, those ones are actually more annoying. They take their work home and I get a million ideas flung at me the moment they walk in the door.
Thank fuck I have Maria. I swear, if I could, I would marry that woman in a heartbeat! She is very happily married though, I’ve met her husband a few times, John, and he is genuinely lovely.
Her two kids are sweet too...wait, two kids or three? Fuck, I can’t remember now, I have only met them once or twice...I think.
Another ding from my email brings my attention back to my tasks in front of me. I knew starting this business would be hard but damn, this is a lot more corporate bullshit than I ever meant to sign up for.
I have always loved horses so when I decided to invest in my first racehorse, I was full of excitement and enthusiasm. I knew I was on to a winner with Blue, he was a beautiful stallion.
I don’t regret any of my choices since then. I am extraordinarily rich and own several businesses now but if you had told me back then, at 24, that this is where I would end up 10 years later then I would have run a mile.
After I bought Blue and put him to stud it kind of snow balled. A few stud farms, racetracks and several properties and miscellaneous businesses later and suddenly I find myself stuck in a stuffy office five days a week.
I feel myself groan at the thought that all I do now is manage; people, business, investments, procurements...well, mainly managing the people I have in charge of most of this stuff but that is already more than enough.
I can’t even remember the last time I sat in a saddle. Maybe I can take Miss Holly out this weekend, I could get Jackson to set her up for me, I’m sure I could take a few hours to hit the trails with her and Maya on Saturday.
Another ping. The rest of my day is taken up just trying to clear my inbox. I have a few meetings tomorrow so better that I make sure I am on top of everything else today.
Six pm finally comes around and I finish up my work before exiting the building. People seem surprized when they see me drive my land rover instead of the usual corporate frill.
I tried a nice sports car but seriously, you just cannot fit a bale of hay anywhere but the passenger seat and then you get even more funny looks, especially when you end up sitting in a meeting in a pencil suit, smart blazer, silk shirt and bits of hay stuck to you that you didn’t notice until after the investor had already gotten off the zoom call with you.
People are surprized enough to see me drive my own car in the first place. I just couldn’t live without that freedom though. As I drive out of the business district and make my way slightly out of town towards my estate, I can feel the pressure being released from my shoulders.
I immediately go to my room and walk into my exceptionally large closet to get changed. Finally, in leggings and a sweater I greet Maya and start my nightly routine.
Jackson is great and looks after everything perfectly, that’s why I pay him so well, so I don’t have to worry. There is something so grounding about doing the rounds myself though at the end of the day.
I know I don’t have to, but I didn’t take on all this for anyone else’s benefit after all. Plus, Maya enjoys the run with me I think and it’s cheaper than a gym membership.
By the time I have checked on everyone, I just have time to make a quick supper and step into a hot shower before I get comfortable with a good book and a cup of tea.
By Wednesday afternoon I am already beat. I call Maria in to my office for a meeting, I tried telling her so many times that she can all me Jennifer, but she still insists on calling me Miss Goldberg.
My shoes are off, so she knows this is more of a casual catch up. You would think they would come with built in cushioning – and a personal massager – for the price I paid.
She efficiently goes through the topics that she knows I will want to hear about before I bring up what I actually want to talk to her about.
“Maria, how would you feel about me hiring a personal assistant?” I ask. “Miss Goldberg, I am your personal assistant.” She laughs.
“I mean a personal assistant for you?” I reply with a hint of a smile on my lips. I try to keep things professional in the office. It is hard enough for a woman to get taken seriously in business, but Maria has been with me for enough years now that I let her in, at least a little.
She takes a moment to study me and just as I realise that look in her eye she replies, “Be straight with me please, is there something I’m missing or is my performance not up to scratch?” She asks without any of the softness or humour from a moment ago.
She is the best thing that ever happened to me, she does everything I need with a professionalism that can’t be matched and is the perfect balance of friendly without trying to pry into my life.
“Not at all, you and I have worked together for long enough that I know that if there was an issue then I could talk to you Maria, I’m not trying to replace you!” I try to reassure her.
I can see the relief on her face, damn, am I really that much of a hard ball that she thinks I would just replace her so easily? Maybe I need to give her a raise, or a holiday...
“I need someone to help manage this place so I can focus a little more on some personal projects and I don’t want to ask you to do anymore. I was actually hoping it might give you some more flexibility too.” I explain.
She looks thoughtful for a moment and like she might be ready to accept my offer, but I should have known I wouldn’t get away with it that easily. “Why? What have you got planned?” She asks with narrowed eyes.
She really does know me too well. I spend the next hour or so explaining to her about one of the acquisitions I want to take on.
What I don’t explain is that my ‘rehab centre’ where I take in rescued horses and rehabilitate them to sell them on doesn’t actually make me any money. In fact, it would be a massive hole of dept if I wasn’t worth enough money that it didn’t touch me.
I don’t tell her that most of the horses will end up at Blues Ranch which is actually owned by me but run by Jackson and a small staff.
I don’t tell her that my actual goal is to shut down the meat trade of horses, because most of those auctioned souls need veterinary treatment, not to be hauled up in pens where they suffer until they are shipped off, out of the country where laws are different.
I don’t tell her a lot of things about my personal life. As far as she is concerned, if we are buying land, it doesn’t matter if I want to make it into a national park of build a thirty-story high rise, she gets the job done and doesn’t ask too many questions.
I have an empire, I built it from the ground up, I don’t think anyone knows exactly how much land, how many warehouses, businesses and properties I own, and I would like to keep it that way.
Thanks to a few wise investments and the amount of money in the racehorse industry in general, I am worth billions now. I can finally run my racetracks how I want them, with the best training and care possible.
It has taken blood, sweat and tears to get here but I finally feel like I am accomplishing the things I always wanted to but never dreamed I would have the money to do.
Well, mostly. There is always more to do, a new dream to reach for.
