Who Are The People Featured In 'Is This Working?: The Jobs We Do, Told By The People Who Do Them'?

Jason, a short-tempered playboy who needs a wife mainly for his business, met Kelsie with the help of his friend. He asked her directly to be his wife, but unfortunately, she turned him down. Kelsie, a simple but fierce lady, works in a coffee shop but needs a better job. After Jason asked her to be his wife, she cussed him out and walked out on him. She later got called for an interview at a big company, and that was where she saw that her boss was the same guy she threw curses at. They both secretly had it in mind to bend each other to their taste, but little did they know that in the process of doing that, they were going to find something else. Something unexpected. Something they were not prepared for. Something they were scared of. Love.

At the company's annual gala, the CEO announced that this year's top sales performer would receive a two-million-dollar year-end bonus. I was the top performer. However, my manager called me into his office the very next day and explained that the company was cutting costs and improving efficiency. As a result, my bonus had to be reduced. I initially assumed everyone's bonus was being cut. Then, I found out I was the only one getting shortchanged. Even worse, they handed my position to a useless coworker who could barely do the job. I understood everything immediately. 'So this is how it is. You're tossing me aside after you got what you wanted from me.' Fine. I stopped putting in any effort from that day forward. I clocked in, did the bare minimum, and watched the company slowly fall apart. Sales began to drop month after month. Even the major clients I had already secured began withdrawing their investments. That was when the CEO finally panicked. He showed up at my front door, begging me to fix things. I kicked the door open and looked down at him. "You think a garbage company like yours deserves my help?"

The contractions were ripping me in two. My vision was going dark. My husband, Don Vittorio, the man who ruled Chicago, squeezed my hand. His dark eyes burned with love. "Just a little longer, mia cara. You'll meet our baby soon." Sweat poured down my face. I still found the strength to smile for him. Then a nurse walked in. She held a syringe. I thought it was to stop the pain. But Vittorio’s hand fell away. He took a single step back. The needle sank into my arm. I heard Vittorio’s voice. It was cold steel. "Dose her carefully. She holds on until midnight. Not a minute sooner. Not until after Ornella delivers." And then I knew. He thought I married him for the money. He was stopping my labor. All for a sick Falcone family rule: the first son born is the next heir. Pain tore through me. I reached for him. Tears streamed down my face. I begged him to stop. He bit his lip. His voice was pure ice. "My brother is dead. Ornella carries his only heir. You will do as you are told. You and your child will not steal his birthright." The drug hit my veins. The violent squeeze in my belly, like some invisible hand, just… stopped.

"I… I can't hold it. I need to use the bathroom." The flight attendant in the interview slumps in her chair. Her face is twisted in pure agony. I've secretly fitted the chair with a vibrator, so the moment I press the switch, it jerks and rattles unpredictably. As I watch their faces turn red and their bodies tremble uncontrollably, a sense of supreme satisfaction washes over me. To my astonishment, one of the flight attendants hitches up her uniform skirt and insists I attend to her needs on the spot. …

"Alexia, don't take any of the company's holiday bonus boxes. You're not one of us—there's nothing for you." My manager, Kevin Davis, delivered the notice coldly, as if he were commenting on the weather—routine, impersonal. My hand stilled on the mouse. "The rest of you, come with me. We're heading to the company gala to collect your million-dollar bonuses!" My colleagues filed out in high spirits. I watched their retreating backs and answered with a bitter, "Okay." I was a contract worker. For seven years, I had always been the odd one out in the department. Our ID badges said it all—blue for full-time employees, gray for me. Time off was no different. Full-time employees had weekends; I got one day off a month. As for pay and benefits, they enjoyed meal allowances, housing subsidies, team outings, afternoon snacks, holiday gifts, year-end bonuses… I received a fixed salary of three thousand dollars a month. I sat down, opened my computer, and returned to the candlestick charts of my stocks. They didn't know that I was the company's largest anonymous individual shareholder. And they certainly didn't know that tonight, at the company gala, I would step onto the stage as the new Chairman—and my very first proposal would be to lay off their entire department.

After three grueling years of studying, I finally made it into the city agency. Then at a family banquet, I found out that my cousin, Gina Forrest—the one I'd seen at a hometown reunion—had also landed a job in the exact same unit. During the family dinner, right in front of our uncle, who happens to be a senior official, my cousin shoved a doctored confidential document into my hands. She suddenly shrieked, collapsed to the floor, and scattered the papers everywhere. "Clara! That's classified agency material! How could you sneak it out to show an outsider? Just for some lousy commission?" Our uncle slammed the table in rage, declaring he would uphold justice over family ties—have me fired on the spot and report me up the chain. Then, right in front of me, a line of on-screen text floated by. [Gina has really lost her mind. Doesn't she know the main character is the undercover inspection team leader sent specifically to investigate her?] [And look at the uncle still putting on his act. The team's car will be pulling up outside any minute.] Reading the on-screen text, I took a slow sip of tea and said to Gina, who was falling all over herself to prove her loyalty, "This document is classified, all right. But you changed the wrong part." Then I turned to my uncle and said, "And you just said you would uphold justice over family ties? Perfect. You can come back with me to the team and explain all those hiring violations over the past few years." Gina was stunned. The government system she had been killing herself to get into—I was the one in charge of evaluating her.