INTRODUCTIONS
Trudging up the stairs of Wonderstorm Entertainment, Owen knew he was being punished. Well, he didn't know, exactly. But had a suspicion. Why else would they assign him to the Advertising Department for the next two weeks? Sure, Leo Kelly said it was because the ad people needed a little bit more understanding about Adrenalyne. But why couldn't they send Zach, or Terry, or one of the other countless programmers that had worked on the game? After all, Owen had DESIGNED the game - if he weren't up here this week, he could be downstairs designing more games.
But no, instead, Kelly had decided that his time was better spent up here with all the "business-types." The title was spoken as an anathema by the programmers downstairs, who often got fed up with the office staff that worked on the third and fourth floors of Wonderstorm. He was dressed in his typical ripped jeans, stained t-shirt, flip-flops, and eye-brow ring that he usually wore to work, but now he was passing people in suits, shirts & ties, and business ensembles. He groaned, but opened the door to the second floor's advertising department, his sticker-covered laptop under his arm. The minute the door was open, Owen cursed the company’s president again. This was all Kelly’s fault.
Inside, the whole office was sort of a peach color. Mauve? Salmon? Whatever it was, it made Owen sick, just at the sight of it. How did they expect him to leave his dungeon and come work up here?
There were three desks in the main room as Owen entered. One was to the far right, where a secretary, probably about his age, sat in front of a single door. To the left was another secretary, but around her desk were two doors behind her, and one to her left. Across from him was a conference room, overlooking Gaslamp Boulevard. And, to his direct right, just next to the door, was a young girl, probably college-aged, sitting at a desk that seemed to be almost an afterthought, more than anything else.
"You must be Mr. O'Connell," the secretary to his right said, standing up. She was a brunette, with extremely short hair. "I'm Chrissy, Joanna's assistant."
The name Chrissy didn't mean anything to him, but then, she was only a secretary. Joanna, Owen thought to himself, was definitely the one in charge of the advertising department. Joanna Zayres. He had heard her name around the company for the past three years, and linked it to someone important.
"Owen," the programmer told the woman as he shook her hand. "Mr. O'Connell makes it sound as if I’m sixty years old, or I'm in trouble."
The woman smiled and gave a small laugh, being friendly. As Owen glanced around the department again, Chrissy knocked on Joanna's door and told her that Owen was here.
For the next half hour, Owen was guided all around the office, being introduced to everyone. Joanna herself was only thirty-seven, but in a company like Wonderstorm, that made her the most senior member of the office.
The other secretary, seated at the far side of the main room, was the very pregnant Karen DeYoung. Karen served as the office manager, which basically meant that she was the secretary for the three advertising associates that populated the rest of the office.
The younger girl that Owen noticed as he walked in the door was Suzanne Eastman, a junior at the University of Babylon. She was actually taking the fall off of school to intern here at Wonderstorm. Her desk HAD been an afterthought, trying to cram her into the small department that had been crowded from the get-go.
Marcus Flannery and Spencer Wesley-Brandt made up the male members of the advertising staff. How they had ever got stuck working in such an awful-colored office, Owen didn't know. But he felt bad for the both of them. Marcus was in his early thirties, going prematurely grey. Spencer, on the other hand, was roughly twenty-eight, Owen guessed. Both advertising associates were well dressed, especially in comparison to Owen.
The third advertising associate was definitely the member of the staff that caught Owen's eye the most. Catherine McIntyre was his age, 23, and a recent graduate of Green College. She was tall, gorgeous, and had brown hair that fell to her shoulders, no further. Most of all, she was friendly, joking around with him in a way that made him feel more welcome than anyone else had.
"So we're dressing down today, huh?" Cat teased, getting an eyeful of the programmer.
Coming from anyone else, this might have been an insult, but Owen could tell that she was just joking around, trying to make friends. She wasn’t looking down on him; she was just amused to see someone so sloppy-looking trudge into relatively formal office.
Because of the limited space, Owen was given the conference room to call home for the next two weeks. Chrissy got him settled, and soon Owen was up and running on his laptop, e-mailing his friends downstairs about how awful it was up on the second floor. Seriously, mauve? He spent the morning meeting with Joanna, helping the director of the advertising department get a better feel of his game, Adrenalyne, and helping to come up with at least a tentative strategy of how Owen envisioned the advertising.
LUNCHTIME GAMBLING
To welcome Owen, the whole staff stayed around for lunch, making Owen feel obligated to remain himself. They ordered subs from a deli around the corner, and Suzanne ran down to get them. Everyone settled in around the large table in the conference room, making themselves comfortable in a way that Owen hadn’t yet – despite the fact that this was technically HIS office.
They chatted though, and everyone was fairly friendly. That is, until the subject of "Teaser" came up.
To be fair, it wasn't Cat that brought the game up. It was Karen who joked that Owen should take a stab at trying to knock out the office "Teaser" queen. Karen explained that Teaser was a simple puzzle game, in which the player just tried to work their way through increasingly difficult problems.
Owen smiled at the mention of the game, and smiled again when Suzanne asked him if he had ever played. Owen laughed, and responded by saying that he used to play the game all the time.
"Were you any good?" Marcus asked.
