Chapter 4

Isabella

I was taken aback by what my eyes were reading, "Permanent Contract," as I looked up at my new boss. He was engrossed in a conversation in Arabic, and although I knew the language, I tried not to pay attention until he mentioned me.

"She's my new assistant, so if my mother asks, tell her it was challenging to find someone with good references and trustworthy," he said. The man nodded and smiled. I discreetly averted my gaze, and my heart raced as I saw the salary. I need to do thorough research to know how to excel in this position. I signed it without hesitation and then waited for their conversation to end. When they finished, I handed my contract to the man.

"Is everything all right, Miss Sanchez?" asked my new boss, Mr. Ashgar. I nodded politely. "Good, there's a restroom on this floor. Go out and turn right at the end, you'll find it. Change and discard that outfit you're wearing," he raised his eyebrows, and he noticed. "Unless you want to assassinate someone at any moment." I quickly shook my head without saying anything, as I knew what he meant. I left and finally took a breath. I entered the restroom and immediately changed into the new uniform. It was an extra size, and it felt comfortable, not tight at all. It was quite modest. Then I noticed something inside the bag where the uniform was kept. It was some kind of... Is it a veil? Oh, God. How do I put it on? The door opened, and a beautiful woman with perfectly styled blonde hair appeared. I noticed the scarf on her neck, but on the inside. She must have seen me hesitating.

"It goes on your neck," she pointed to hers.

"Oh, thank you," I said, and she smiled.

"You're welcome. Are you new?" she asked curiously.

"Yes, I just signed the contract," I replied. She raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms. She didn't say anything, as if she was waiting for me to put on the scarf correctly, not to help me, and so she did.

"Let me help you," she approached and helped me adjust it. She gestured for me to look at myself in the mirror. Surprisingly, it looked great.

"Thank you, it looks perfect," I said. She smiled.

"I'm Kate. I work in the payroll department, handling taxes and such," she extended her hand for a handshake.

"Pleasure to meet you, I'm Isabella, but most people call me 'Isa' for short," I smiled.

"That's a nice name," she said. I noticed she wanted to ask something but hesitated. I turned my gaze back to the mirror. "I heard you've come with Mr. Ashgar. Is that true?" I confirmed, adjusting my suit jacket.

"I'm his new personal assistant," she gasped, and I looked at her with a furrowed brow. "Is something wrong?" She shook her head, but it was clear that she was surprised.

"I hope you stay in the company," she said. Then she snorted, "I mean, they'll tell you the same thing anyway," she sighed. "Mr. Ashgar has a unique personality. If you pass the test..." I didn't mention that I already had a permanent contract. "Which is impossible, I wish you the best."

"But why...?" someone knocked on the door.

"Miss Sanchez, are you taking much longer?" It was a man's voice. I hurriedly said goodbye and left the restroom. When I exited, Mr. Ashgar came out of his office with the HR guy. They continued their conversation in Arabic, and I tried not to listen when I arrived. "Get that car, I want it tomorrow morning," he said. The man nodded and responded with a "Yes, Mr. Ashgar." Then he looked at me and showed a copy of a smile, without showing his teeth. The boss started walking, and I followed behind him, noticing the employees on the floor observing us from their workstations. He entered the elevator and waited for me to enter.

"Do you have everything ready to start the day? I'm going to show you what I want you to do from now on, so that Mrs. Eleanor won't have any valid complaints to come running to me about," he suddenly said before pressing the button for the executive floor.

"Yes, Mr. Ashgar," I replied. He turned his profiled face towards me.

"Just 'Mr.,' please," he nodded quickly, mentally noting that detail.

"Yes, Mr.," I said. He pressed the button, and instead of going up, we were going down.

"The traditions and customs of Arab culture have many differences compared to Western culture, and for the most part, there are rules and customs. First point: it's my own customs that you have to follow. I don't want surprises; they're unpleasant and put me in a bad mood. Second point: it's impolite to say a firm 'No.' Handshakes are common greetings and farewells. Long handshakes, interlocking arms, and walking hand-in-hand with other men are common in the Arab world, so don't be surprised if you have to travel with me to my home country. Fourth point..." he paused before pressing the button to immediately close the elevator doors. Now we were going up. "...contact between members of the opposite sex in public is considered off-limits. I only use my right hand for eating, touching, and presenting gifts," he made a brief pause, "Fifth point: prolonged eye contact during discussions is often expected. Prolonged eye contact with women is considered rude. It's offensive to ask a man about his wife or family member. Sixth point: when sitting, avoid stretching your legs in front of you or sitting higher than others..." another pause when we reached a floor before the executive floor. The doors opened, and he pressed the button to close them, now we were going down again. As we descended, he continued, "What's the next point?" he asked, testing me.

"Seventh," I said, and he nodded, seemingly satisfied.

"Seventh point: don't lean against walls," I quickly moved away from the wall. "Don't slouch in chairs or put your hands in your pockets. Double meanings are common in conversations. Don't speak loudly. Are you keeping up with everything? Or do I need to go back to some point?"

"I'm keeping up, sir," I said, mentally noting all the points.

"Good, the point..."

"Eighth, sir," he appeared pleased.

"Eighth point: meals are usually at the end of an event. Middle Eastern people consider it impolite to finish all the food on your plate," I raised my eyebrows in surprise. What if you're very hungry? Can't you eat it all? "Ninth point: take off your shoes at the entrance and leave them there before entering a house," he paused again. "Tenth point: hospitality, kindness, and generosity towards strangers are expressions of sacred duties..." the elevator finally stopped at the executive floor. "I want the contract you've signed to remain confidential. You've signed a non-disclosure agreement, and you can't divulge anything you see or hear. There can be consequences."

"Yes, sir," I replied politely.

"In my office, we'll discuss the remaining points you need to learn. If you happen to speak with Mrs. Eleanor, make her believe that you're still on a trial period."

"Okay, thank you, Mr. Ashgar," I said, feeling a mixture of nervousness and curiosity about what awaited me in this new position.