Jealousy | Scotty Sire X Reader (COMPLETED)

Chapter Six

The next morning, you awake to your phone buzzing repeatedly on your bedside table. You reach for it and turn it over to see the screen, seeing an unsaved number calling you. It looks familiar, though, so you answer it.

"Hello?" You say, your voice a little hoarse from literally just waking up.

"Hi! Is this Miss L/N?" A cheery voice asks through the phone.

"Uh--" you clear your throat, "yes, it is," You respond.

"Good morning, Miss! I'm calling to remind you of your meeting with Mr. Bowler today at 10 a.m., we can plan on you coming, correct?"

"Uh" You check the time, seeing it is 9:23, "yes.... Yes, yes you can," you stutter out, launching your ass out of bed and to the bathroom.

"Great! Is this the best number for you for future reference?"

"Yep, and this number the same for you?"

"Yes, this would be the best number to get in contact with us, or the company email,"

"Alright, thanks, have a good day!"

"Thank you, darling, you too!" The call ends and you immediately begin panicking more. You google the address on Maps, seeing that the building is only a ten minute drive from you. You breathe a slight sigh of relief before rushing through your morning routine, adding a little more here and there, making sure you look professional for this meeting. You wear some black and white grid patterned pants, with a solid black button up.

You leave the bathroom. Then, you slide on some nice, shiny shoes, grab your keys, and you're out the door.

You arrive at the tallass building in downtown L.A. at 9:54. You rush to the front door, stopping before the glass door to make sure your outfit is still decent before heading in. Opening the door, you slide in, smiling when you make eye contact with the lady behind the front desk.

"Hi!" you mutter with an awkward, little wave. You make your way to the desk. There is a small bowl of mints on the edge with a sign reading, "take one! :)". You reach your hand over and take one, popping it into your mouth.

"Hello, do you have an appointment?" She asks. She has her ginger hair pulled into a bun on the top of her head, few strands pulled out and curled to frame her face. Her glasses rested on the tip of her nose. She was pretty, sure, but you felt that she probably didn't like you. Or maybe she does and you're just being paranoid. Or, most likely, she feels completely indifferent towards you and wouldn't care if you were to murder someone right in front of her. Oh, God, I'm overthinking this too much, you need to chill out.

"Yes! Uh, Y/N L/N, 10 a.m.?" You reply when her words finally actually register in your head. She nods with a small smile and types into her computer standing from her chair. "Right this way," She says, leading you down a hall of doors to various offices. You try to read the name plates, but she is walking too fast and you can barely keep up, let alone read the signs. She turns to the right and we walk for a few more steps before coming upon a closed door. The curtains are pulled and there is no sign. The woman knocks.

"Come in," A gruff voice calls out through the door. The woman turns the handle and pushes the door open.

"Mr. Bowler, Miss L/N is here to see you," She says, standing beside you, as if she were presenting you. You awkwardly smile and wave again. Why do you keep waving?!

You assume Mr. Bowler to be the man sitting behind the large, dark, polished desk, with a Hawaiin button up shirt on, leaning back in his chair with the confidence of a man who owned the world. He has gold chains around his neck that shine in the light emanating from the giant windows on every wall. Along with windows, the walls are adorned with different records, framed and displayed as trophies.