Meeting Her Team

A soft knock came on Venus' office door.

"Come in," she called, adjusting her blazer.

The door opened, and a tall, slender woman stepped in with a confident smile. Her dark brown skin glowed under the office light, and her curly afro bounced gently as she moved. Her eyes sparkled with intelligence.

"Good morning, ma'am. I'm Lucia Parker, a member of your team. I've come to take you to the conference room to meet the others."

Venus stood up quickly and smiled. "Lucia Parker. I love that name already. Please, call me Venus. Let's skip the formalities."

Lucia chuckled. "Alright, Venus. Follow me."

The two women walked side by side, exchanging a few light jokes as they headed towards the third conference room at the far end of the eleventh floor.

When they entered, three other team members stood waiting.

"Everyone, this is Venus, our new team lead," Lucia said, stepping aside.

Venus stepped forward, smiling warmly. "Good morning, team. I'm excited to meet you all. But before we talk about work, I want us to laugh first."

They looked at one another, curious.

Venus raised her hands playfully. "Yes, you heard me right. If we're going to work together, we better be comfortable enough to laugh together."

The room relaxed instantly. The tension faded.

She walked to the whiteboard and picked up a marker. In bold, she wrote: 'Equal team. Equal effort. Equal gain.'

Then she turned. "This is our rule. We're all equal here. We all must work hard so we can keep drinking the Copeland juice."

They laughed.

A short guy with dreads said, "Wait, what's Copeland juice?"

Venus gave him a straight face. "The AC, the coffee machine, the steady pay. That's the juice. If we don't work, we don't sip."

The room erupted in laughter.

Lucia whispered to another teammate, "I like her already."

Venus grinned. "Now, let's get to the real agenda. I need a personal assistant. But not just any PA. I want someone with a sense of humour. So, you have one chance—tell a joke. Make us laugh. That's the interview."

There was silence. Then the short guy raised his hand. "Okay, okay. Here goes nothing. Why don't skeletons fight each other"?

They all looked at him.

"Because they don't have the guts."

Lucia burst out laughing. Venus chuckled and nodded. "That's a good one. Who's next?"

A quiet lady in glasses gave her best shot, but the room barely giggled.

Then Lucia cleared her throat. "Let me try. Why did the tomato turn red"?

"Why?" Venus asked.

"Because it saw the salad dressing."

The room exploded in laughter. Even Venus held her stomach.

Venus raised her hand. "Done. Lucia Parker, congratulations. You're my personal assistant."

Lucia gasped. "For real?"

"Yes. You got the job with salad dressing."

Just then, Rose Williams walked past the glass wall of the conference room, heels clacking like gunshots. She peered in and rolled her eyes.

"This mad girl is turning this office into something else," she muttered, then continued walking.

Back in the conference room, the team was still enjoying the vibe.

Unknown to Venus, Raymond Copeland was sitting in his sleek office, watching the scene on his monitor with his hands folded beneath his chin. His lips twitched with amusement.

He chuckled softly. "I like her spirit. She's a leader."

He leant back in his chair and took a sip of his espresso.

Meanwhile, Venus clapped her hands together. "Alright, now that we've broken the ice and shared a few jokes, let's go through our roles. I want to know what each of you does. Don't worry, no pressure. Just be yourself."

One by one, they introduced themselves with cheerfulness.

Lucia was the first to speak, flashing a confident smile as she extended her hand.

"I'm Lucia Parker, your new personal assistant… well, hopefully your favorite too," she added with a playful wink.

A short guy with neat dreadlocks stepped forward next.

"Davis here. I'm the guy who makes numbers dance—I do data analysis. And I throw in a few jokes to keep things spicy."

Next was a tall, athletic guy with a friendly grin and a pen twirling between his fingers.

"Franklin the name. Logistics is my game. If anything needs to move from point A to B, I'm your guy."

Then came the soft-spoken lady with glasses and a calm presence.

"I'm Melanie. I handle research and background work. I don't talk much unless it's about cats… or facts."

She gave a small smile that lit up her face

Venus listened carefully to each one, asking a few follow-up questions, making eye contact, and even laughing at herself a few times.

"Look," she said finally, "I know I'm new here. Some of you probably didn't expect someone like me to show up and start leading. But I promise you—I'm here to learn from you too. If we work together, we'll all shine."

Davis gave a nod. "I respect that."

Melanie gave a small smile. "It's the first time I've laughed this much at work."

Franklin chuckled. "Same here."

Lucia leaned closer. "I think we're going to be just fine, Venus."

Venus looked around at their faces. This was her team. Her beginning.

And even though she didn't know what tomorrow held, one thing was certain—she wasn't going to walk this journey alone.

The conference room had just emptied, and her new team had gone off laughing and chatting towards the staff cafeteria. She smiled to herself. It had been a good start.

Miss Lucia Parker had proven herself witty, confident, and engaging—earning the spot as her personal assistant through a round of jokes that had everyone laughing hard enough to cry.

Venus could already tell that Lucia would be a great partner.

But while the others went off to lunch, Venus had her mind set on something else.

She pulled out the printed company handbook, a stack of project files that had been neatly arranged on her desk earlier that morning, and opened her laptop.

Her fingers moved quickly, scanning through the project timelines, reports, and campaign data.

She mumbled to herself with a slight frown, "Let me understand this territory well before I start calling myself the Queen of the 11th floor."

About fifteen minutes passed in quiet focus.

Then came a soft knock.

Venus looked up. "Come in," she said, sliding the document she was reading to one side.

A young man in a neat, dark green uniform stepped into the room holding a stylish lunch carrier bag in both hands. He had a friendly but professional air.

"Delivery for Miss Venus," he announced, offering the bag with a slight bow.

Venus blinked, looking at the bag like it might explode.

"I didn't order any food," she said cautiously.

"It was ordered for you," the man replied politely. "Premium lunch pack. It's already paid for, with your name written right here."

He turned the bag around. Her name was indeed printed in a lovely cursive font.

She frowned, shaking her head slowly. "Sorry, but I won't touch it."

The delivery man looked slightly surprised. "Ma'am?"

She stood up, walked around her desk, and folded her arms. "I appreciate the gesture, but my grandmother drilled something into my head for years. Don't eat or drink anything when you don't know the source. So, kindly take it back. No offence."

The man hesitated, then dipped his hand into his pocket and pulled out his phone. Without another word, he dialled a number.

Venus narrowed her eyes and watched him closely.

"Yes, sir," the delivery man said. "She refused. She said she won't eat it because she doesn't know the source."

There was a pause. Then, his face lit up, and he nodded. "Okay, sir. I'll wait."

Moments later, Venus's desk phone rang. She walked over and picked up the receiver.

"Hello, this is Venus."

"It's Copeland," came the smooth, confident voice of the CEO.

Venus's heart skipped. "Oh—Mr. Copeland. Good afternoon, sir."

"Venus, relax. It's just lunch," he said, his tone lighter than usual.

"And it's safe. I call it the 'Copeland Juice, according to you' special. Every department head gets one when they survive their first meeting without a team meltdown."

Venus blinked. "So you listened to our conversation during the meeting? And this is like a welcome package?"

"You could say that," he chuckled. "A reward for not throwing coffee at anyone on day one."

Venus laughed, placing a hand on her hip. "Ah, so this is a bribe. You want me to behave for the rest of the day?"

"Exactly," Raymond said, amused. "You cracked the code."

"Well, next time, maybe send the 'Copeland Juice' with a name tag and your signature. Or a face ID scanner. You know, for safety."

Raymond burst into laughter over the line—a rich, unrestrained laugh that surprised even him. "Venus, you're something else. It's been a while since someone made me laugh like this."

She grinned. "Then get ready, sir. I'm full of surprises."

"I'm counting on it."

They paused for a beat. Then Raymond added, "Enjoy your lunch, Ms. Phillips."

"Yes, sir. And thank you… for the juice."

She hung up with a smile playing on her lips, looked over at the delivery man, and said, "Alright. I'll take it now. But if I start floating or seeing stars, you're the first person I'll call."

The man chuckled and handed her the bag.

As she sat down and unwrapped the lunch, a fragrant spread of jollof rice, grilled chicken, steamed veggies, a fruit parfait, and a sealed bottle of something labeled "Copeland Juice"—she shook her head, still smiling.

"This office is full of drama, and surprise gourmet meals," she said softly. "What a life."