Hailey D Bonnette
I finally locate the elevator after a few minutes and begin my ascent. My feet are already protesting from the sprint from my car. I’m certainly not one of those women who can conquer the world in heels.
The moment the elevator doors part, I draw in a sharp breath as I take in the office for the first time.
It’s a bit too posh for my liking. The walls are a soft cream, adorned with what I assume are works by renowned artists. The floors are a rich bronze marble.
Before I even step out of the elevator, I see men and women bustling about, all dressed to the hilt. I feel out of place.
The dress I picked for today only amplifies my sense of not belonging, and I’m too anxious to step out of the elevator.
The door begins to close, and I quickly dart out, not wanting to be any later than I already am.
I make my way to the desk at the center of the room. A beautiful brunette is seated behind it, a phone practically attached to her ear.
I clear my throat, not wanting to interrupt her call. I’m already late and just need to know where to go.
The woman arches her eyebrows at me and holds up a finger. Well, it’s not like I was planning to talk over her phone conversation.
A few minutes pass, and I start to suspect she’s doing this deliberately. She finally hangs up the phone and lifts her gaze to meet mine.
“Can I help you?” she asks, her tone dismissive. Her eyes drop to my dress before she lets out a snort.
I silently count to ten in my head, trying to keep my temper in check. The nerve of her!
“Yes, I’m here for a job. It’s my first day and I’m not sure where I need to go,” I tell her, my voice soft, feeling completely out of my element.
“You’re here for a job?” A soft chuckle escapes her overly plump, red-painted lips.
“Yes. I’m Mr. Ryder’s new assistant,” I say, a hint of pride in my voice. I was thrilled to finally land a job in the New York business scene.
“Sweetie, it’s not really a personal assistant position. You’re basically here to fetch things like a dog.”
She laughs again and I bite my tongue to keep from snapping. I only asked for simple directions.
“Well, the job ad said otherwise. Now, could you please point me in the right direction, and I will let you get back to doing whatever it is that you do,” I ask, striving to keep my voice steady.
I don’t need to start a fight on my first day.
She rolls her eyes and points to the elevator. “Mr. Claiborne’s office is on the top floor. You’re already late. He doesn’t appreciate that.”
Well, you kept me waiting for several minutes! I want to retort, but I hold my tongue, spinning on my heels—praying they don’t snap—and walking away.
I scramble back into the damn elevator, frantically pressing the door close button several times before hitting the button for the sixth floor.
Finally, the door closes and I’m on my way back up, still seething at the rude woman.
I could feel her judgmental gaze scanning my body the moment she saw me. It made me feel like I didn’t belong in a place like this. Not with my looks or my clothes.
The elevator dings. I quickly pull out my phone to check the time and see that it’s 7:15 a.m. Fifteen minutes late!
What can I tell my boss? Traffic? He’s not going to accept that as an excuse. Not when I should already be familiar with the traffic in our area.
Do I tell him and sound like I’m complaining about the women downstairs? He would only think I’m stirring up drama on my first day. That’s not the impression I was hoping to make.
When the doors finally open, the first thing I see is another desk, but this time the woman behind it isn’t on the phone. She looks up with a warm smile that eases the nerves coiling in my stomach.
Thank God, she seems friendly. I’d hate to encounter another person like that witch downstairs. This is the one I’ll be seeing every day, and I’d like to get along with her.
I put on a smile and approach the desk, already feeling a bit better than before.
“Hi, I’m Isabella. Today’s my first day. I’m Ryder’s new personal assistant,” I tell her, hoping I don’t get the same reaction from her as I did from the woman downstairs.
“Oh, yes, I’m Amanda, the one you spoke to on the phone. Congratulations, by the way.
“You’re a bit late, and Mr. Claiborne doesn’t like anyone to be late. In fact, he prefers everyone to be here a bit earlier than their starting time. It’s your first day, so I’m sure he will be fine with it.
Also, a heads up, don’t call him Ryder, he doesn’t like that. Always say Mr. Claiborne. His office is right through those wooden doors. Good luck on your first day!”
She points to his office and nods her head as the phone rings. She quickly picks it up, answering, “Good morning, this is Mr. Claiborne’s office, how may I assist you today?”
I leave her to her work and head to the office, feeling my anxiety clawing its way back up my throat.
I stand there for a few moments, taking slow, deep breaths before raising my hand and knocking on the door a few times to ensure he hears me.
I don’t want to sound like the police knocking, but I also don’t want to just stand here because he didn’t hear me.
I also don’t want him to think I’m later than I already am. Apparently, every minute counts around here.
Just as I’m about to knock again, I hear a deep, sexy voice that makes my heart skip a beat say, “Come in”.
Here we go, Izzy girl.