The Enterprise

Chapter 1

Sasha sipped her coffee. Sweet and thick, heavy with cream and sugar. Her friend Cara teases her about the way she drinks it. "The donut of breakfast drinks," she called her coffee. She figured this morning that she deserved it. She had a brunch interview in 20 minutes. She'd never heard of such a thing, but for this job, she'd interview naked and standing on her head if they asked. Four times what she made now, and a bonus package to die for. And while it was best to approach these promises with a skeptical eye, she thought the company's emphasis on "nurturing our employees' personal growth" at least offered a faint hope of work/life balance. So, she sipped her caramel chai latte with extra whipped cream and two shots of caramel sauce and prepared herself.

She knew she was at the top of her field, so getting an interview wasn't a surprise. But the compensation offered? That was downright shocking. She didn't know that positions like this even existed in her industry. She didn't know her skills could be worth this much to anyone. Well, she was hoping they were anyway. On paper, she had everything they were looking for, but who knew? Maybe they were only posting this for legal reasons, and the position would actually go to the boss's nephew Chad, or Alice, the office suckup, or whoever filled those roles there. So she was justifiably nervous as she nibbled on the second plate of the unlimited donut holes that were served with brunch here. She hadn't realized she'd gone through them until the server dropped by with a third, which she nervously started to decline. He frowned at her. "I've seen 30 interviewees come through here over the last week, and I'll tell you this because I like the look of you." He said, staring at her intently. "I hope you brought your appetite to the interview because those who left theirs behind didn't get a second." He dropped the third full plate, picked up the empty, and whisked it away without waiting for her assent.

Immediately in his wake, a handsome middle-aged man with salt-and-pepper hair swept up to the table and intoduced himself. "Hello, I'm John. " he said, as she stood to shake his hand. "Thank you for meeting me for such an unconventional interview. I feel like we get a better sense of how our candidates will fit into our corporate family in this setting. Please, eat up!." He heaped most of the third plate of donut holes onto her plate and slid into the seat across from her. "I hope you don't mind, but I've already ordered. I find people are shy about getting what they really want in this context, so I just make sure that there's a little bit of everything and no one goes hungry."

She nodded, glancing down uneasily at the plate of donut holes in front of her. She recalled the server's words and dug into the unwanted plate as if it was her first. They exchanged pleasantries over pastries, and it seemed like no time flat until two plates were brought to the table. 'Plates?' She thought. 'Platters, maybe.' Eggs benedict, home fries, fruit, avocado toast, all crowding an over-full, and oversize, plate. She dutifully polished it off while listening to John describe the job, the perks, and benefits, fortunately exactly as generous as presented in the job listing. As the server cleared the plates, she described her qualifications and how she envisioned herself fitting into the role he'd described, so focused she barely noticed that as the empty plates were removed, they were simply replaced with new ones, laden with bacon, and sausage and eggs and hashbrowns smothered with cheese. She leaned back after delivering her qualifications, eyes widening as she noticed the newly laid feast in front of her. She swallowed heavily, less nervous about the interview performance she had just delivered than about the one that clearly still lay before her.

She had always been a big eater. Despite her petite frame, she'd always been the one causing people to wonder where she put it all. But she was now three plates of donut holes, eggs benedict, home fries, avocado toast, and then some into the meal, and she was expected to keep going? But that perks package... she dug into her next round of breakfast with renewed gusto, packing in the next platter while he described his team and their expertise and interests. She felt she was lucky that he was carrying the conversation now. Her stomach was full to bursting. She could barely think straight as she struggled to finish forkful after forkful. She was so full, but she realized the server wasn't wrong. Every time she slowed down, John's eyes narrowed all but imperceptibly. So she shoveled the second huge platter down in record time and thanked her lucky stars that she had opted for a loose blouse with flattering vertical stripes this morning, since even its loose folds starting to feel a little close for comfort.

Another visit from the server. Another change of topic, this one to where she saw the team and herself going for the next five years. Standard fare. Fortunately, she had thought these answers through thoroughly because she was struggling to concentrate through the ache in her abused middle. Unfortunately, this brought another round of breakfast - nine-layer pancakes drowning in syrup, topped with whipped cream and berries. Yet she made it through that, too. Emerging with her waistband groaning, blouse plastered to her bloated middle, she leaned back and grinned. Surely, she had nailed this interview!

Maybe, maybe not. But most definitely, not yet. It was time to talk about travel. First was Mexico. Accompanied by huevos rancheros. Next were their European offices. For France, there were crepes, for Russia... syrniki. For Belgium, of course, the waffles. She was deliciously, deliriously overstuffed. Beyond full, with sweat running down her face, the outline of her navel clearly visible through her now painted-on blouse, she panted and groaned under her breath, but she didn't stop. Brötchen and sausage and cheese, pastel de nata, sandwiches with kalles kaviar, tostadas con tomate y aceite - she ate her way around their European offices, each so delicious but so filling. Her mind swam, her blouse so tight the side seams dug into her flesh until finally, on the kolaches course, it ripped along one side. She reddened, mortified, but John simply clapped in delight. "Hungary will be delighted to know they won!" There is a small betting pool as to whose cuisine will be the death of the candidate's wardrobe. Her head spun. 'Betting pool? What kind of workplace was this again?'.

She leaned back in her seat. She had no choice. She couldn't sit up straight anymore if she tried. She belched loudly and thought she couldn't blush any redder. But John simply clapped her on the shoulder and said, "Yes, I think you'll fit in just fine. A toast to your success as the newest member of our team!". She grinned and shook his hand, her head swimming unexpectedly as she stood. She groanes inwardly as she leaned forward and heard the *plink* sound of one of her buttons hitting the tabletop, unable to contain the meal. She sat down abruptly, hoping he hadn't noticed, but if he did, he gracefully ignored it and a mimosa she didn't remember ordering was placed in her hand. She drank deep, hoping to drown her embaradsment. Her head swam even harder, and the table seemed to tilt sideways. As her vision went dark all she could think was "at least I got the job!".

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