“Apparently not. What’s the status of our guests’ arrival? I don’t want them coming in to this.” Tristan typed another note into his phone as a reminder to go over the front desk policy before he left the office today, and then stepped through the doors as they swished open. Landry looked down at his watch as Tristan hit the administrative floor on the keypad inside the elevator.
“They should be landing right about now. A driver will bring them straight here.” Tristan punched the top floor button again as the doors shut, but they didn’t move. He punched it again, and then again.
“Hell, are we having maintenance issues, too? This is so not the time for all this bullshit.” Tristan pressed the button again.
“No, you need your badge and authorization to get to the top floor,” Landry explained, sliding his badge through the card reader and pressing the button. They were off.
“But I don’t have a badge and why do we even need badges?” Tristan repeated, doing air quotes over the word badge.
How did he not have access to his own building?
“It’s been a while since you’ve been here. I’m sure it’s sitting on your desk.”
“I want this all discussed by the end of this day. You need to do whatever needs to be done before they get here to make sure they aren’t greeted like I was. I liked the old days when you walked in a place and normal people were sitting behind a desk ready to greet you, without guns being shoved in your face,” Tristan stated, walking off the elevator.
“Lookin’ good, boss man.” That deep voice caught Tristan’s attention so he looked over, seeing an intern he’d hired a year ago grinning at him, extending a hand to give Tristan a fist bump as he walked past. He obliged and smiled. This guy needed to be downstairs greeting the people walking into his building. Tristan caught the apparently strict new Landry reaching out to give the intern a fist bump too. The intern looked confused but followed through, not leaving Landry hanging too long.
It was clear his company motivator had turned into a stern businessman. This was turning into a day of many new revelations.
“You should dress up more. You’re dashing.” Tristan couldn’t let Landry’s obvious attempt in leading him a different direction slip. “Dashing? Really. That might have worked from the intern, but it’s not gonna work for you. We’re talking about the whole security thing as soon as these guys leave tonight. Are we ready for them?” he asked. Since he didn’t believe in offices, but worked with proprietary information, he required some form of privacy on the administration floors. That came by the way of half walls, windows, and large glass double doors he kept open most of the time. Well, most of the time he was actually there. He found his underground lair was the best at keeping his work private.
“The itinerary’s on your desk. We have meetings, tours, and dinner plans every night,” Landry supplied.
“Good. I want to speed this along. Their asking price is fair. I don’t want to nickel and dime them,” Tristan repeated for about the tenth time over the last two days since they’d decided this was the one they wanted. Sometimes with his group of senior executives, he had to say specific words over and over, especially about the money. They watched Wilder’s dollars closely, no doubt because they liked their year-end bonuses.
“For me, the deciding factor lies in their current staff. We don’t need them. Especially that senior executive team,” Landry started. He’d done background reports on them all, going over each one in length with Tristan. Landry hadn’t been impressed with any of them. Tristan was fine giving them honorary jobs to get the market share they built so quickly, but nothing substantial or long-term.
“Don’t make snap judgments. We’ll need them to transition. Actually, you’re forgetting—they don’t need us as much as we need them. Don’t be arrogant. They’ve beat us in this part of the game. Get our team ready, and for heaven’s sake, don’t let our guests be greeted like I was downstairs,” Tristan cautioned again, digging through the piles of paperwork on his desk. He couldn’t have their guests see him struggling to get inside his own building.
“I need a box,” Tristan called out loudly. “Somebody bring me a big file box.” Landry laughed as he left the office. Tristan took off his suit jacket and rolled up his sleeves. A few moments later, a box landed on the desk in front of him. With a few shoves, he dumped everything that had accumulated on his desk into the box, looking over to someone’s assistant. Since he refused to have one himself, he regularly shared with his staff.
“Go through all that. Deal with what should be dealt with. Dump the rest,” he directed, handing the guy the heavy box.
“Yes, sir,” he replied.
“Lose the sir. Apparently I have an employee badge somewhere in there. Find it and put it directly into my hands. Nowhere else. Got it?”
“Yes, sir… S-sorry,” the intern stuttered at Tristan’s look of disapproval.
“Does this suit look like I’m trying too hard?” Tristan asked. He quickly rolled his sleeves back down and shrugged on his jacket, puffing out his chest and stretching to his full height.
The guy looked startled and momentarily unsure before he gave a croaked, “No.”
“Are you sure?” he questioned, even knowing the kid wouldn’t tell him the truth.
“Yes,” he reassured, leaving the office. Tristan laughed at the hasty retreat. He needed to spend more time here, not locked up at his house and web-conferencing. The Wilder inner community had suffered with his absence. He needed to be in the office to maintain his vision for how his company and employees were treated. On that dismal thought, he went out to see Landry’s new bride.
“Amy, did Landry have you send gift baskets to all their rooms at the hotel?” Tristan asked, walking past the shared administrative assistant of the senior executive team. She’d been originally hired for him, but he took care of about ninety percent of his own needs, so over the years she started working with them all.