Confessions of a Disloyal Assistant: 2.28

How smooth of an operator is Atlas? Not only can he blog this from his desk, but he can throw off Sloane's suspicions with ease.

I was actually talking to Sloane at my desk when my cell phone rang (note to self: get a new ring tone, Fur Elise is getting old). I pull it out of my pocket sheepishly, as I normally have my cell off at work, and glance at the caller ID. I don't recognize the number so I ask Sloane if I can answer it.

Sloane: "Fine. But if it's personal, you better hang the f**k up." He then waves his hand like a Roman Emperor ushering a servant away.

I answer: "Hello?"
Voice on Phone: "Hi, this Aliotta Fagina from XXX (big acronym agency). Is this Atlas?"
I say: "Hi Aliotta from XXX. Yes, this is him." Sloane leans in, interested.
Aliotta: "Listen, I just got your resume and we'd like to bring you in for an interview."
I say: "Really, that's great. Been having a lot of interest there, actually." Sloane looks excited.
Aliotta seems flummoxed that I'm not more excited. Aliotta: "Really? Oh."
I say: "So what can I do for you, Aliotta?" Sloane continues to lean over my desk as I get very nervous.
Aliotta: "Well, I was wondering if you'd have time for an interview later this week."
I say: "That sounds great. Maybe I could drop by on Wednesday. Things should be worked out a little better by then." Sloane raises an eyebrow at this highly unusual utterance.
Aliotta: "Perfect. How does eleven sound? We can work you in before lunch."
I say: "I'll be there with bells on at eleven. Anything in particular I should bring?"
Aliotta: "Just need a hard copy of your resume. Here's the info for your meeting."
I write down the pertinent info (except for a reminder to bring my resume).
I say: "Thanks Aliotta. See you Wednesday." I clap my phone shut.

Sloane is expectant: "What the hell was that, Atlas?"
Not missing a beat, I say: "That was Aliotta Fagina from XXX. She was hoping I could drop by a fresh copy of the script and wanted to meet me to get the latest on it."
Sloane: "I thought Fagtastic Benny was your guy at XXX." (note: Sloane actually calls the poor guy "Fagtastic _______")
Atlas: "I used my super-assistant skills to go over his head. Aliotta is his higher-up."
Sloane: "Why didn't she or her assistant call the office?"
Atlas: "Um, well, I actually, uh, used a friend of mine to get her the script. And I guess my friend gave her my cell."
Sloane: "Why can't you just mail the script?"
Atlas: "I could, I guess. But she wanted a mini-meeting."
Sloane: "Why would she want that?" I'm hiding my nervousness well despite the fact that Sloane is very leery.
Atlas: "Uh, I don't know." Dammit, my brain isn't working fast enough.
Sloane: "Well I need you here. Tell her she's not allowed to waste my assistant's time. I don't give a flying f**k if she works for XXX or a strip club, the only reason to have a meeting is if they want the f**king script."
Atlas: "Look, I think my friend is trying to set us up-- she'll always trying to do that. I should take the meeting, you know, give her the ole wink and nod, get her to advance the script. And it won't be a super-long meeting anyway. I think she just wants to make sure our mutual friend wasn't exaggerating or whatever."
Sloane: "You're a whore, Atlas."
Atlas: "Which would make you my pimp if I sell the script. And I don't think I need to remind you about the money relationships between pimps and 'hos."

Sloane rolls his eyes, waves his arm dismissively again and heads back into his office.

I call after him: "So that's a yes on the meeting?"


Looking like this means Aliotta Fagina in this town wants you.