To Get The Ones We Hate

Chapter Three: Pause and Rewind

My alarm rang at 7:00am the following Monday. I groaned and turned over. The shrill sound of those electronic bells drove me mad. I hopelessly flailed my arms around my desk, hoping the to hit the snooze button. It worked. I settled back into my sleep induced state, when it finally hit me. Today was the first day of my new job. My eyelids shot open, and I speedily rolled out of bed. I felt dizzy after a few seconds; guess I got up too fast. I walked to the bathroom and turn the faucet on. Before I got in, I turned on the radio and let the soothing sounds of Erykah Badu fill the air.

The lukewarm water graced my skin as I showered. The best way to wake up. When I got up, the whole bathroom smelled like raspberries and vanilla; an aroma due to my favorite soap. When I was decent enough, I opened the window. The sky was cotton candy colored, and sunlight peaked over the houses in the distance. I left my bedroom and went to the front of my apartment for breakfast. I pulled out a bowl of Chocolate Special K from the cabinet. Summer was in 2 months, and I was trying to get my figure up to par. I sat on the couch and munched on the bowl of cereal as the music played in the background, when my phone vibrated. A text from Prod.

Amber! you should come by our hotel, room 629 later on today, so we can just.. chill. Like old times. If you're not too busy.

I smiled. The concert and the few minutes outside my apartment were exactly the ideal meaning of "chilling." I texted him back immediately.

Sure thing! I'll be over there after work. See you then!

I put my phone down and tossed the bowl in the sink to wash later. I was trying to keep it simple, yet professional when it came to my outfit. I put on a royal blue sheer top with three quarter length sleeves, with my black pencil shirt. I had on simple black ballerina flats. My hair was in curls. "That should do the trick," I said, twirling in the mirror. I put my phone, keys, wallet and makeup pouch in my purse, and headed out. I'm guessing Briana already left for work- I mean, she had to travel to New Jersey every morning- it was pin-drop silent upstairs.

I started my trek down the street to the train station; 30th Avenue on the N train. I wasn't used to the mass transit crowd at rush hour, because in L.A. I drove everywhere. I was basically maneuvering through a sea of people. My train was right in the station when I got to the track, so I hopped on, and headed to Manhattan. "This is 34th Street, Harold Square," the computerized voice said over the speaker. "My stop," I thought to myself. I got off the train and the building was right across the street from the exit. Butterflies fluttered inside me as I neared the skyscraper. It felt like the first day of school, without the adolescence and the algebra.

I went through the revolving doors of the building and went to the secretary's desk. "Hello," I said politely, "Which floor are the Morrison-Bradly Bank offices located?" She looked up at me and pointed, "Head straight to the elevators to your left, and the offices are on the 14th floor. If you're a guess, you must sign in here before entering." I shook my head, "No, I'm not a guest. I'm one of the new transfers from the Los Angeles branch." Her face lit up. "Oh, you must be Amber Ryan! We've been expecting you! My name is Rita," she said, standing up over her desk to shake my hand. I smiled back at Rita, "Nice to meet you." She handed me a thin piece of plastic, "You can take this temporary employee pass for now, until you can come back on some free time and get a new one." I continued smiling. "Thank you," I said as I walked towards the elevators. "No problem," she called, "and welcome to the New York branch!"

The elevator doors opened and I stepped inside. There was one other man in there, with a crisp suit, a brief case, and a cup of coffee in hand. We exchanged "good morning's" and continued on with our business. But, I couldn't help but feel that I knew him from somewhere. A name just wasn't coming to mind. I shook it off once the elevators opened on the fourteenth floor. The man got off the same time as me, but went in a different direction; whereas I headed straight for the receptionist. "Hi, I'm Amber Ryan, the transfer from the L.A. branch." The receptionist smiled similarly to the secretary downstairs. "Welcome, Amber! I'll lead you right to your desk." She stood up and escorted me throug the office. We finally stopped at a desk that was right in front of a window, a distinct enough location for me to remember later.