As I walked into my office, my eyes roamed over the bland walls and uninspiring décor. The lack of personality in this space gnawed at me. Everything felt cold, sterile, lifeless. How had I tolerated this for so long? I made a mental note to bring some vibrance into this room. A few paintings, maybe a plant or two. If I was going to be here every day, it needed to feel more like me.
I placed my recently purchased Birkin bag on my desk—a little indulgence I'd allowed myself for working so hard—and powered on my computer. Just as I began settling in, the phone rang, breaking the silence.
"Hello?"
"Good morning, ma. I have a Marcus Chen here in the hallway. Says he wants to see you," my receptionist said.
"Marcus?" I asked, sitting up straighter.
"Yes, ma'am. The Marcus Chen," she whispered, as though she were revealing state secrets.
"Send him up immediately."
"Yes, ma'am. Right away."