Georgia's View

Chapter 1

If I were to tell you the who, what, were, why, and even how would you care to take a moment and listen? Or would you rather do other things just to conjure up an excuse to not be bothered? Well if it couldn't hurt please sit down, cross your legs like a good woman should, and direct your eyes to me. Good. Okay my story begins.

February, 2002 10:52 pm. Thirty-twenty Olsenbaum Street, Louisiana.

"Ms. Ferst, Mr. Freedman is ready for you." "Alright, thanks." I say kindly as I walk along the beige colored squares of the marble floor at the Freedman & Architects Corporation Building. "Beautiful scenery". I mutter to myself as a way to coax my thoughts. Walking down this white painted hallway with these strategically placed wall lights flashing its bright glow in my line of sight makes me even more nervous than most would probably be at this time of night. Which brings me back to reality. Why am I here at this time at 8 minutes to 11:00? Yes I want this internship badly in fact, I prayed everyday for this moment to be present. Just never thought it would be close to 11:00. But we all know the saying that I know for a fact is indeed true. God works in mysterious ways and that mysterious way is me at a 60 floor skyscraper at 11:00pm on a Friday.

Walking into Mr. Freedman's office I notice a peculiar smell. It almost smelled like a decomposing body mixed with fresh fruit. Don't ask me how I detected that. I just had an inkling. "Ms. Ferst, I'm glad you could make it at this time of night. I know it's a little late but you should be my last client according to my roster." This handsome, beautiful, gorgeous man looked so clean-cut, fleet-footed, and powerful. I almost felt a strong invisible force pulling me towards him as if it were trying to indicate something. There's just something about this man and I can't quite put my finger on the word. "It's an honor to be of your acquaintance sir." I spat out without even giving a thought. "I hope you could help me with something that could alter my life forever. I traveled all this way to meet you and I'm certainly grateful for your time. I know you have tons and tons of work to complete so I'll try not to be much of a burden." Gosh Georgia take a breath! "Shhh, don't you worry about all that". I got what you need and I'm sure it will help you tremendously." His response made me cringe a bit. "Your portfolio please?" The muscular man responded with a thick accent as he extended his creamy beige arm out to me as an indication. The things my friends tell me. You can tell that I'm single. "Yes that I do have". I replied. I reached into my Micheal Kors cross body satchel I received for my twenty-second birthday from my aunt Lucy. I pulled out the teal portfolio folder and handed it to him. Dang. I just realized that there's dashes of purple nail liquor on the corners. Must've been my little sister Detrick. "Thank you. I will return this to you when I'm done reviewing it. I think I'll be pleased with what I'm about to see". He replied with a full smile. "You will be Mr. Freedman. You will be." I asserted myself.

A soft plush pillow with teal triangles under my hard head. Tight, naturally curly ringlets strewn around my mocha colored forehead with a dose of Italian flare. The sandman has done its daily duty. I hate eye crust. My eyes are open. Thank God that was a dream. You can tell I've read the whole series of the Fifty Shades of Grey trilogy. Yep, I've read those books. My mom doesn't know though. I've always been the sneaky type. You know the type that gets away with almost anything and everything and never feels an ounce of guilt.

I get up off my full size antique bed and head for my door to eat some breakfast. I thought I heard my mother call me down. Maybe I just heard her soft spoken voice in my head. Yeah, that could be. Once I reach to the bottom of the steps, I take a few more steps and enter through the threshold that welcomes you to the kitchen. Fresh bacon frying, flicking hot tiny spheres of grease from the teflon pan located on the left hand corner coil on the burner stove. My mother is nowhere in sight. I check the basement where our laundry room is. She's not there. I resume looking all through the rest of the house. Through the three bedrooms, den, living room, bathrooms, the backyard, the home office, and lastly the sunroom. No sight of her. Even her distinct rosy bodily aroma isn't lingering in all corners of the house either.