Maggie entered an impressive-looking office building carrying a boxed salad. She greeted the people at reception and walked to the elevators. She punched in her employee code and rode it upstairs, all the way to the 25th floor, where she walked into an open office space. There was space, desks here and there, greenery, lights, and no cubicles in sight. All in all, it looked really nice for as an office and even better for a place wherein hours a day were spent.
Maggie walked to her desk, sat down, logged into her computer, brought up her work and set the salad on the table. She scrolled through her work, reading the document while eating.
A couple of people walked by, exchanging greetings and idle chit-chat with her. She finished the salad and then concentrated on the open document on her screen.
A couple of hours later, she pressed a button and the printer next to her came alive and started pondering if it would work as it should or act like a printer -- which was synonymous to being a decent Hellspawn and trying to do anything but work properly. Maggie leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes, waiting.
Bits and pieces of a conversation reached her ears. A couple of her coworkers were discussing a job and someone who was on a leave. Maggie glanced at her printer, which tried to act all innocent but still refused to work. She sighed and stood up, heading to her coworkers.
"Hey Steve, what's up?" She asked.
"Jack's on a sick leave," Steve answered, "and me and Paula are up to our eyes with work. And Mr. Thomas needs someone to drive him to the bank, because the orders say he can't go alone."
Maggie quirked up her eyebrow, looking at him. "That's all?" She asked. "Oh well, if you can see that my job prints properly, I can go with Thomas."
"You can?" Said the woman sitting at the desk, Paula. "That would be awesome. Sure, we'll see that it prints properly! Thank you, Magenta!"
Maggie grimaced internally at her full name, as always, but nodded at the two and then headed to the door that said "Director, K. Thomas." She knocked on the door, then carefully opened it ajar and peeked into the room.
"Mr. Thomas?" Maggie queried.
"Ah, Magenta," Thomas said, "come in."
Maggie stepped into the room and closed the door behind her. She walked to the desk where Thomas sat. He was a guy in his fifties, maybe closer to sixty. Contrary to popular fiction, he wasn't an old bald fat guy with a greasy smile. He looked more like someone's young grandpa or a dad of a family. His dark brown hair had turned silver on his temples and his face had wrinkles, but he still looked good.
Maggie pointed towards the door. "Steve and Paula said that you needed an escort?"
"Ah, yes," Thomas said and picked up a suitcase from the floor. "I gotta deliver this to the bank and the company rules say I can't do that alone. Are you volunteering, Magenta?"
Maggie nodded at him.
"Yeah, I got all done for the day, just need to print it out. Steve and Paula promised to take care of that, so I can come and drive you," she answered.
Thomas smiled widely and stood up. "Wonderful!" He said, grabbing his coat. "We'll leave immediately then!"
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