"Congratulations. You got the job," said the prim, fifty-something human resources manager, looking over the top of her glasses at the pretty young woman seated in front of her. "Welcome to Bonham Industries."

Emily Robinson was so thrilled she could barely contain her excitement. It had been three months since she'd been laid off from her previous job and her savings had just about run out. She had begun to wonder if moving to St. Louis had been a mistake. Somehow, by luck or by the strength of her two interviews, she had made it!

"Thank you so much, Mrs. Dowd--I'll do a real good job for you, I promise," she gushed at the woman.

"Yes, well..." Mrs. Dowd seemed uncomfortable. She took off her glasses and folded them carefully in her hands. "You should know that you'll be the administrative assistant to Mr. Caudry, one of our senior salesmen. He, uh, can be, er, difficult."

In her mind, Emily pictured a crotchety old man who thought of all young people as "whippersnappers." Still, she would not be dissuaded from her good mood. "Oh, I'm sure we'll get along. I get along with everyone."

Mrs. Dowd nodded and bit her lip. "Um, good. Well, we have some paperwork for you to fill out, then I'll begin your orientation."

Emily filed out the information for health insurance and a 401(k) plan and was handed an employee's manual. Everything was so exciting and new! She almost hummed to herself as she completed the forms.

"That should do it," Mrs. Dowd said. "Now, let me show you how the phone and computer work." Over the next forty-five minutes, Emily took notes as she tried to keep up with the dizzying rash of instructions the woman tossed out. Everything was simultaneously straight-forward and complex. Filling out the calendar for her new boss's movements should have been easy, except for the codes she had to memorize to use the program. And the phone! It was so high-tech she could probably call up satellites with it but all she wanted to understand was how to get an outside line.

With her head still spinning, she suddenly realized Mrs. Dowd had stood. Emily rose to her feet at once, feeling butterflies in her stomach. "Any questions?"

Emily had too many to ask and realized at the same time that "none" was the correct answer. She shook her head.

"Good. Follow me."

Mrs. Dowd led the way through the warren of cubicles, pausing to point out a conference room, the bathrooms and the employee lounge. Emily was aware of many eyes on her and tried to nod and smile in response. Mrs. Dowd came to a section where three offices lined the far wall. They were all faced with rich wood paneling. Thick carpeting padded the floor, setting the area off from the common cubicle farm. Mrs. Dowd stopped at the first desk just outside an oak door. "This will be your spot."

Emily opened her eyes wide in disbelief--she had just been hired and already she was assigned as administrative assistant in such a cushy spot? She looked past Mrs. Dowd to the cubicles and then back to the woman, confused.

"Yes, I know what you're thinking--why are you here instead of one of those other girls? Someone who has been here longer? Am I right?"

Emily could only nod.

Mrs. Dowd pursed her lips. "Uh..." She seemed to struggle to find the right words. "Mr. Caudry is, well, very particular. He's gone through several administrative assistants, I'm afraid. He's, uh, quite valuable to the firm, you understand, so we give him a certain latitude. We're hoping you'll be the right fit."

"Oh, I'll do my best," she assured the woman, feeling a disquiet in her stomach that she could not dismiss. "Uh..."

"Yes?" Mrs. Dowd looked over her spectacles at her.

"What happens if he doesn't like me? Will there be another position you can assign me to?"

The woman grimaced. "Let's cross that bridge when we come to it, shall we?"

From her expression, Emily did not feel confident that she could transfer should she fail. Suddenly, she realized she could easily lose this job she had fought so hard to land! She took a deep breath and vowed to herself she would work hard to please her apparently demanding boss.

Mrs. Dowd knocked on the oak door and listened for a moment. When she heard no answer, she opened it and peeked in. When she pulled back, Emily thought she seemed relieved. "Mr. Caudry appears to be out for the moment. I'll leave it to you to introduce yourself when he returns."

The woman left quickly as if afraid to be around when Mr. Caudry returned, her heels clicking softly once she reached the linoleum of the cubicle farm. Emily stood and surveyed her domain, her mouth half-open in shock. Her area was about eight feet wide by six feet deep, partially hidden from the lowly workers beyond by a four-foot panel of dark wood that covered half of the entrance. A full wall separated this office from the one next to it. A tall filing cabinet stood against it. Her small desk sat just to the right of his door. A computer and phone were the only two items on it.

She wondered if this alleged ogre Mr. Caudry would allow her to place a small plant or a picture there. Emily sat down and swiveled the chair smoothly under her. Looking up, she noted how the paneling nearly hid her from the view of the cubicles. That made her smile. Emily vowed she would be the best damn secretary she could be. She felt she'd died and gone to heaven.

She needed this break. Her life had seemed to lurch from one crisis to another. Growing up in Kansas City, she never imagined she'd be in this position at age twenty-nine. Her life was supposed to have worked out by now. When she was a child, her father had been the center of her world--strong, handsome, caring--and very definitely the "man of the house." He had been ten years older than her mother and she had loved him so deeply, Emily wanted to have that kind of relationship with a man when she was older. He protected the family and took care of things. And yes, her mother did dote on him. Perhaps that attitude would be considered old-fashioned now, she mused, but it worked for them.

When Emily went away to college she wasn't really sure about what kind of career she wanted. It was an adventure to her--her first step toward a new life that she expected would mirror her mother's, who had met her true love right after she graduated. There was no conscious thought of obtaining her "MRS degree"--she was far too modern for that outdated concept--but Emily did find herself looking at her dates as potential life mates.

Her world shattered in October of her sophomore year. Her mother called in a tearful panic--her father had died suddenly of a heart attack. She was distraught and unable to cope. After Emily got over the initial shock, she packed up her belongings and returned home. For the next five years, she took care of her mother, who had gone into a grief so deep it would seem she might never come out. Emily found herself in the role of caregiver, which wasn't how she saw herself--she wanted someone to take care of her.

When her mother finally began to come out of her depression, Emily felt too much time had passed for her to return to college. She found a job as a store clerk and tried to find a life separate from her mother, though she still lived at home.

Her mother finally began to date, which pleased Emily, though she realized no man could take the place of her father. Still, it was encouraging to see her mother finding happiness again.

Emily began to date as well, but never seemed to meet the right kind of man. Most had been immature or stuck on themselves. That was, until Adam had come into her life. She met him through work. He reminded her of his father--sure of himself, as well as handsome and intelligent. His only flaw was his quick temper, but Emily felt she could change him.

She admired his forceful personality and could imagine herself being protected from a harsh world with Adam by her side. Sometimes, when faced with an annoying bill collector or petty bureaucrat, she secretly delighted having Adam to sic on them.

They soon became an exclusive couple and Emily already imagined what their house would look like and the names of their three children. At age twenty-six, she was sure her life was back on track.

Her mother announced she was going to marry her boyfriend, and Emily and Adam felt it was the perfect time to set up housekeeping together. Emily couldn't wait to start her most important job--being a mother. Though they lived together for a year, Adam kept putting off any firm dates on an engagement, let alone a marriage. Emily had gone along, thinking he just needed more time. They were together and that was what mattered.

During this time, Adam's personality began to change. His temper, which had only flared occasionally before they had moved in together, began to manifest itself more often. He'd yell over some minor transgression and throw something, scaring her. Almost immediately he would be contrite and promise it would never happen again. He had just been caught in a weak moment, he'd tell her.

"You know, you've been putting pressure on me to get married and I guess I just snapped," he would say, neatly shifting some of the blame to Emily.

She forgave him, of course. They were soul mates, destined to be together.

She realized something was terribly awry with her vision of them as an ideal couple when she found a pair of woman's panties in the glove box of Adam's car. They certainly weren't hers--not a bright red, frilly pair like that! She confronted him and he exploded.

"What are you doing snooping around my car?!"

It was his attempt, she realized, of turning the attention away from his transgression and back onto her. She wasn't having any of it. She waved the panties in his face and demanded to know who they belonged to and what was he doing. For the first time, she was too angry to back down. The argument did not last long--Emily found herself on the receiving end of his fist and was knocked unconscious.

When she awoke, she was lying on her bed as a shamed and sorrowful Adam tended to her, telling her how sorry he was. "You just made me so angry," he kept saying.

It was all too much. Her image of Adam as a man as good as her father had been was shattered in that moment. She didn't argue with him or tell him it was all right--she just let him babble on about how it would never happen again while she made her quiet plans.

Emily was far too embarrassed to go home to her mother and stepfather's house. Her eye had turned black by the next day when Adam went to work. "Put some makeup on that--I don't want people thinking I'm a wife-beater or something," he said, hurrying on when he saw her stunned expression. "We'll work through this, honey, I know we will."

When he was gone, Emily called the store and quit on the spot. She told them to send her final paycheck to her mother to hold for her. She phoned her mother and said she was breaking up with Adam and promised to visit her soon, but she had to get away for a while. She offered no other explanation.

Emily packed up her few meager belongings and left Kansas City behind. She headed east to St. Louis, where she planned to reinvent herself. It hadn't been easy. She had lurched from one job to another, always managing to hang on and determined not to go home and face her old life. She had to stand on her own.

Now she felt this job might be her chance to gain a foothold and start making new friends. She couldn't think about finding a new man yet--that part of her life was too painful. But at least she could prove to herself she was going to be all right. Life would go on.

So why did she feel so hollow about her decision? Emily couldn't help wonder what happened to the men like her father, who were strong and compassionate and not at all abusive.

Emily shook her head as if to clear out the old bad memories. She ran her hands along the smooth dark wood of her desk, smelling the fresh polish. Opening a few drawers, she noted they were all empty. Supplies, she thought--I must get supplies.

She had fetched some paperclips, pens, paper and a stapler from the office supply cabinet and was trying to remember how to sign into the computer system when a man strode into her area. Emily sat bolt upright, not sure if this man was Mr. Caudry or a client. He was tall, with dark hair and a sharp nose. She pegged his age at somewhere in his late thirties--far too young to match the image Mrs. Dowd had created in her mind. His lips were pressed together as if in disappointment. His eyes seemed to pierce her to her soul and in that moment, Emily knew he must be her new boss.

"Mr., uh, Caudry?" she squeaked.

"Yes? Who are you?"

"I'm Emily Robinson, your new administrative assistant. Mrs. Dowd--"

"I see," he said dismissively, shaking his head. "She just keeps trying, doesn't she?" His voice was calm and steady and it resonated deep within her. "You should know, I hate that politically correct term, 'administrative assistant.' There's nothing wrong with being called a secretary."

Emily felt a stab of fear and fought to overcome it. "Oh, no sir! That'll be fine. I promise to serve you in whatever way you need, Mr. Caudry," she began and stopped when he waved his hand, cutting her off.

"Yes, that's what they all say, at first. Your predecessor lasted a month before I fired her. The one before that quit after two months." He paused and looked over his shoulder at the cubicles. "I'll bet they have a pool going on how long you last."

"If you could tell me, please, what they did wrong, perhaps--"

"What they did wrong, Miss Robinson, is they did not apply themselves." He paused. "It is Miss Robinson, isn't it?"

She nodded.

"I suppose it wasn't all their fault," he continued, "apparently they no longer teach English in our schools. They came in here with the attitude that poor grammar and spelling and generally sloppy work is sufficient."

Emily's mouth worked but no sound came out. Finally, she managed, "Well, I've always been good in English--"

"Yes, that's what two of the last five secretaries told me. It didn't seem to help." He brushed past her and went into his office, shutting the door firmly behind him. Emily let out a breath. Her face was hot and she felt a sheen of sweat all over her body. She grabbed a tissue and blotted her face quickly, trying to regain her composure.

She didn't understand why he seemed to have taken such a sudden dislike to her. Emily knew she looked good--she was fit and trim and people always told her she was attractive, with long light brown hair and a dazzling smile. So what was his problem?

The phone buzzed. She panicked for a moment when she realized it was Mr. Caudry. She found the right button and said, "Yes, Mr. Caudry?"

"Bring me a cup of coffee, please. No cream and just one-half packet of sugar."

"Uhh, right away, Mr. Caudry." She had almost questioned him. Secretaries didn't get coffee anymore, did they? But it was her first day and frankly, she felt happy to fulfill his request in order to please him. Emily jumped up and went to the employee lounge and poured a cup of coffee into a Styrofoam cup. She carefully added exactly one-half packet of sugar and stirred. As she was about to leave, pleased with herself, another woman came in, a pretty blonde with her hair up in a bun. She caught sight of the cup and asked, "Are you the one?"

"Pardon me?"

"The new secretary? For Caustic Caudry?"

The office nickname for her new boss didn't do anything for her confidence. "Uh, yes, I am."

"I'm Heather."

"Oh, I'm Emily. Nice to meet you."

"Word of advice?"

"Uh, sure."

"Mr. Caudry hates those Styrofoam cups." She went to the cupboard and pulled out a clean mug with the company logo on the side. "Use one of these."

Emily flushed with gratitude for Heather. "Oh! Thank you! I don't want to make a bad first impression." She poured the coffee into the mug.

"Trust me, with that man, no one can make a good first impression. Just ride it out as long as you can." She shook her head and turned and headed for the refrigerator.

Emily, feeling shaken by her close call, went back to the office and knocked on the door. "Mr. Caudry?" she said softly. "Mr. Caudry?"

"Come in, damn it!"

She hurried inside, holding up the cup. She noticed at once that his desk was completely clear of any clutter. "I'm sorry, Mr. Caudry, I don't yet know how you want to be disturbed. Do you prefer I use the intercom or knock or just come in?"

For the first time, Caudry paused, his eyes seeming to soften. "Well, that's nice of you to ask. When I've asked you to get me coffee, you may knock once and come in. Place the coffee on my desk and leave immediately. I'm often on the phone and I won't want to be bothered."

"Yes, Mr. Caudry." She placed his coffee within reach and left at once, pleased that she had some kind of small breakthrough. Maybe this won't be so bad after all, she thought.

If she had only known.