I worked for one of the greatest companies in the world, Lafayette Inc. It was five years ago, when I was twenty, that I started working at the soon-to-be esteemed business. At this time, Lafayette Jett was only twenty-seven, the company only five-years-old, but he was slowly taking the world by storm. TIME Magazine referred to his company as a modern day Tiffany & Co., but with a darker shade of cyan. His ethereal teal color was becoming iconic among his brand. Women would pull off a shirt from a regular department store saying, "Oh, this looks like a Lafayette shirt."
Entering one of his stores was an experience, and that's what was setting his company apart. It wasn't just a fashion line or a home decor line. It wasn't just for rich people. When you walked into a store it felt like walking into an ethereal oasis (ethereal is a keyword among the brand). Don't get me wrong, there are things that are very expensive, but the average person can walk in, be adorned in beautiful clothing, and be offered a complimentary photoshoot.
However, the thing that really sets Lafayette Inc. apart is that it's one of the best companies to work for. It had actual livable wages for pay and outstanding benefits. It is a certified B-corporation with zero carbon emissions, the best eco-friendly fashion company that exists. People wanted to work for the company because of all the good it did for the world, through its charitable foundation and lack of exploitation. The richest people in the world hated Mr. Jett because he proved that you didn't have to exploit workers to become rich or run a successful company.
He was for sure rich, but you didn't need a college degree to work for him. I only had an associate's degree in professional writing, but this was good enough for a position on the twentieth floor. When I was twenty-two I was promoted to administrative assistant to the marketing office, on the twenty-second floor. I turned twenty-five in May and then, in late June, I was given the opportunity to interview for an elite position on the twenty-fifth floor.
Carla Rodriguez was the Chief Marketing Officer of the company and one of the founders. I didn't work with her directly everyday. Marge was her main assistant, but when Marge broke her leg and was on FMLA for two months, I stepped in. This is when I got to know Carla, and when she proposed I interview for the position on the twenty-fifth floor.
"I think you would fill the position wonderfully," she told me. "You're punctual, energetic, young. Do you want to work for this company for a while? You can easily establish a career here if you choose."
"Oh I love working here," I said. "It's definitely a great job."
"Is it your dream?" she asked through her gorgeously full lips adorned in a bronzy rose lipstick. She had the slightest Spanish accent.
"I wouldn't say it's my dream, but my dream doesn't offer the best job stability so I would like to have a full time job." I shrugged, smiling.
"So what is your dream then?"
"Well, I really love writing, so I've always wanted to be a professional writer, but it would probably take a while to really establish myself as a writer and who's to say I can't do that while working full time?" I said.
She smiled at me, and two days later told me I would be interviewing for an administrative assistant position on the twenty-fifth floor. I didn't know much about the position going in. She mentioned the position would pay much better. While I did get paid well, better than the average New York salary, I still had to have a roommate to afford my bills. My roommate was a weird guy, though, so if I could make more money to move out then I would gladly interview for the position.
On the day of the interview, I wore my best suit. Unfortunately, I didn't own a Lafayette suit but I did at least have a tie in ethereal teal, a Lafayette original. I didn't know how to tame my shaggy brown hair so I let it be, hoping originality would go over better than conformity. I was very nervous because I didn't know who I would be meeting with at all. The only person I ever talked to from the twenty-fifth floor was Don. He was Mr. Jett's advisor, an assistant of sorts, and another one of the founders. His husband, Jerry, was one of the founders as well but retired last year. He did still visit often, though.
The only offices on the twenty-fifth floor were Michael Day's, the Chief Operating Officer; Emilio Cortez's, the Chief Financial Officer; and Mr. Jett's, the CEO of course. Michael and Emilio were also founders. Along with them, Don, Jerry, Carla, there was also Marion, Carla's husband who was the Chief Creative Director. Other than Don and Jerry, who were in their sixties, the rest of them had all known each other for years. Emilio, Michael, and Lafayette were friends since middle school. In college, they met Carla and Marion. Together, they formed the company. At the time of the interview, the company was eight-years-old but one of the most successful ones. Lafayette Jett was becoming a household name, mostly because he was so handsome he got more recognition than some other questionable looking CEOs.
I was greeted by the twenty-fifth floor admin, Sasha, who was both Emilio and Michael's assistant. It was impressive to me, balancing two executives' whole schedules. She was a pro, though, and greeted me warmly.
"Go ahead and wait right here. I'll let him know you're here," she said.
I sat on the sofa and waited, wondering who "him" was. I assumed either Michael or Emilio, but then figured it had to be Don. Don needed an assistant, of course. Don opened the door and smiled at me, telling me to follow him. I walked through a sitting area with more couches, two empty conference rooms on either side. We went into one. It had a beautiful view of lower Manhattan. Don had me sit in a chair at the conference table, but he didn't sit down. "Carla gave a lovely recommendation," he said. "She said you adapted well when you took over for Marge and that you are quite punctual. It's clear you have the necessities for the average administrative assistant position, but this is not an average one." He walked around the table and looked out the window. "Do you know what I do, Mr. Lane?" he asked.
"I assume you take calls, maintain Mr. Jett's schedule, do anything he asks?" I said.
"That's just one part of it." He smiled at me, then turned back to the view. "I've known Lafayette since he was about thirteen. Him, Michael, Emilio, they'd wander into our yard, a place to seek solace and advice and comfort. Today, despite him being two decades older, he still seeks that advice and solace, that comfort. However, I am also two decades older." He turned to me promptly. "Knowing this, Carla still recommends you for the position. I've only conversed with you occasionally but I think you would make a good replacement as well." He patted my shoulder. "I'll fetch Lafayette."
Before I could say anything he left. Replacement. He said replacement. The position was his replacement. He also said he was fetching Mr. Jett. I was going to be interviewing with Mr. Jett himself. I took a few breaths to calm myself down. I wasn't prepared for this, but Carla had told me to ask her any questions if I had any and I didn't ask her! I easily could have asked her what the hell the position was and who the interview was with.
The door behind me opened and I caught my breath. I turned and Mr. Jett, the CEO of this whole company, this incredibly attractive man with stunning green eyes, greeted me with, "Hello, you must be Emerson." He smiled faintly at me, just the corner of his lip. His voice was softer than I expected, not like in videos of him or when he was giving speeches.
"Hi, yes, Emerson Lane." I shook his hand but didn't stand up and questioned if I should have or not. "I have my resume for you." I handed him my resume, shaking.
He sat across from me as he looked at my resume, which unfortunately wasn't the most impressive but it's because I went from high school to community college and worked only at a coffee shop for four years before working at Lafayette Inc. I had company loyalty, so surely that had to speak to something. "Thank you, Emerson," he said, but sat the resume to the side. He pulled out a small notebook and pen from his pocket. "Did Don talk to you at all about the position?"
"A little," I said. "He mentioned you seek solace and comfort and advice from him."
Mr. Jett snorted a laugh. "Not the typical job description huh?"
"Well he said it's not the average assistant job either," I said. For some reason I felt so stupid and like I looked horrible, even though Mr. Jett gave no indication of that.
"It is a little unconventional," he said. "I'm sure Don made it seem like the position is more of...a friend, than an assistant. Not quite. I won't ask to-to, I don't know, hang out after work or play video games or go for drinks, you know. The most important thing about this position is I need someone I can trust. Will I reveal my deepest secrets to you? No, but you might see parts of me I don't reveal to the public. You might learn things about me that are private. I cannot, under any circumstance, have what goes on inside the office exposed to the outside."
I knew Mr. Jett to be a very private man. In the beginning, he was a bit more open, but as he became more mainstream the media became more intrusive. Suddenly, he became an enigma. If the world learned something, it's because he wanted them to.
"I need someone who is trustworthy," he said, looking at his notebook, but he wasn't writing anything. This is when I realized he was actually, surprisingly, kind of shy.
I smiled softly, wanting to reassure him. "You can trust me," I said.
He met my eyes, making me grow red. He leaned back in his chair and wrote something down in his notebook out of sight. "Good. With that, let's begin the interview."
He interviewed me for roughly thirty minutes. I had no idea if I did well or not, which of course made me assume I did horribly. He was just kind of hard to read. After the interview, I went back down to my desk and worked even though it was difficult to focus. I finished the day, and it was a Friday, so once I got off work I actually got ready for a performance.
Administrative assistant by day, drag queen by night. My drag name was Emerson Lane Houston, in honor of my favorite musician ever - Whitney Houston. I also thought my normal name was pretty enough for drag too. I was a dancing queen, a lipsyncing queen (I couldn't really sing to save my life), and when I was on stage I liked to think I was a funny queen. I performed at a few clubs on Friday and Saturday nights, sometimes taking a weekend off when I wanted to. Otherwise, though, drag was my main form of socializing.
A few coworkers would come and check me out, but not often. The other queens and I got along, but I wouldn't consider them close friends. We didn't really hang out outside of performing. I was in a groupchat with some but basically...I didn't have many friends, at least none I really hung out with. I at least had my twin sister, Alicia, but she was getting her Master's in Education at NYU so she was busy all the time and had a social life outside of me.
On Sunday, I decided to take a quick train ride to my hometown, Ossining, to visit my parents. I had nothing else to do, but my parents were also good at making me feel better about things. So my mom picked me up from the train station and was telling me all about what Grandma and Grandpa were doing, what Aunt Carmen and Uncle David were doing, and what my cousins were doing. I didn't have many friends, but I was thankful I had a close family. I only had four cousins on my mom's side and then two cousins on my dad's side but I wasn't close with them because they all lived in Ohio and my dad didn't talk to his side of the family much, besides his mother, Granny, who lived in the house with my parents.
Granny had become close friends with Mom's mom, Grandma, so she was basically a part of my mom's side of the family as well at this point. Granny, Grandma, and my great aunt Johannah would all play bingo together, go shopping together, get lunch every Monday. They were a sweet trio. My mom and Aunt Carmen often joined them. My father, Grandpa, Uncle David, cousin Elijah, and myself were the only guys in the family since great uncle John passed away a long time ago when I was a baby. Alicia was single. Elijah was a year older than us and single. Then my three cousins were Abigail, Aria, and Adalyn, and they were all younger than me, in college, living the fun single life. Growing up, I fit in better with the girls anyway.
"What's going on with you, Em?" Dad asked when I arrived home.
"Nothing much," I said, like always. "I had an interview the other day."
"Where? I thought you liked your job," Mom said, making a mimosa. She loved Sunday brunches so she poured me one as well.
"I do, it's for a promotion of sorts. The CMO recommended me for the position but didn't tell me much about it, so I went in and ended up getting interviewed by Mr. Jett himself," I said.
"What! Oh honey, what is the position?" She poured more champagne into my mimosa.
"It's for the administrative assistant position for Mr. Jett. His assistant is retiring I guess, so they need a replacement. I think the interview went well but I don't know," I said.
"Well that's great son. I'm sure you did a thorough job. Even if you don't get the position, the fact that your CMO recommended you speaks very highly of your work ethic," Dad said. "Plus, you have worked there for years. You exhibit loyalty, very rare for your age group."
"Thanks, Dad," I said, sipping on my mimosa.
"You know he is so handsome," Mom said. "Was he handsome in real life? Or is he actually over hyped?"
"He is pretty handsome, Mom," I said, rolling my eyes. Dad smirked at me, shaking his head. "He was too hard to read, though. So I don't know how I did."
"I'm sure you did great, sweetie. You're young, cute, and have a great smile."
"He's not going to hire me just because of how I look, Mom," I said. I took a big gulp of my mimosa.
She followed suit and downed the rest of hers. "I'm just saying it's one part of you. You know, attractive people are more likely to get hired. It's called pretty privilege."
I rolled my eyes. "I don't think I exactly have pretty privilege, dear Mother," I said. I was not ugly but I was not "conventionally attractive." I had a slim, dancer's body but was still kind of lanky looking, like I hadn't quite finished puberty even though I had. I liked my eyes, blue, but my brown hair was kind of curly and kind of not so it didn't offer much flexibility. I thought my smile was too big and toothy but people seemed to compliment me on it. I had a classic Roman nose inherited through a long line of amazing women in my family. I actually loved my nose, even though some kids in high school loved making anti-semitic comments about it because they thought it was so funny (it wasn't). I wasn't what I was expected to look like. In the gay community I wasn't pretty enough. To the straight world, I wasn't handsome enough. There was just no winning.
Mom and I sipped on mimosas for a while longer, playing cards with Dad. I paid Granny, Grandma, and Aunt Jo a visit as well as they gathered to drink tea together. They always had stories to tell me, from their childhood to what they were up to just last week. I had to catch the five o'clock train to get back to the city. I grabbed a quick dinner at my favorite Chinese restaurant down the street from my apartment and then perused a boutique. I didn't have a lot of extra spending money so I only bought a bottle of hand lotion because I felt bad entering locally owned businesses without buying anything.
I walked past a Lafayette store but didn't enter. They always closed at seven on Sundays. From the outside it looked stunning, in shades of ethereal teal and desert gold. While subbing in for Marge, I got to frequent the stores with Carla every now and then. I loved walking into one of the stores. It always smelled so nice and the staff was so kind. I would stand by as models got their photos taken, customers were given a unique, gracious experience.
There was one time, my first week with Carla, when Mr. Jett came into the store on the first floor of HQ. He looked so nice in his black dress pants and white shirt, with the small "LJ" logo in teal over his heart. He always wore cufflinks in the matching teal, too. A lot of workers would wear teal, gold, white, or black. Michael Day seemed to always be wearing one of the teal shirts. Emilio opted more for the gold, same with Carla. Marion was all about the gold and teal combo. And yet, Mr. Jett just focused on small additions of the teal. Subtle, like his personality seemed to be.
I went back to my apartment, relieved to see my roommate was not there, and hid in my room until the next morning when I would go to work, and have my life changed forever.