The Devil's Assistant (Watty Awards Finalist 2011)

I'm slowly going to be editing this book over the year. The first chapter has had an edit but if you find any mistakes then please let me know. Other than that - I hope you like it.

Chapter 1

Being twenty two and a single mother was never my ambition. My ambitions were be someone -- someone important. But even with all that, I never figured having kids was on the cards. They disliked me and I disliked them. From my point of view, not having them was for the best. But, one drunken night with a charming businessman from America had led me to where I was that fateful day. 

With my head titled to the sky, I tried to see the top of the huge building looming over the Thames, its brothers and sisters standing just as tall on either side. I was in Canary Wharf, the business district of central London. Yet, my thoughts were elsewhere.

My fingers itched to call the child minder for the fifth time in twenty minutes, and I fidgeted every few seconds when the nerves became too much. My life had irrevocably changed that night with the American. I had oddly woken up with a strange sense that something was going to happen and then this morning – right then it still persisted, that same pesky feeling coursed through my veins and played havoc on my jittery nerves.  Something was going to happen – I only hoped it would be for the better. My frantically beating heart hoping so too but, no matter the muttered reassurances, it only thundered louder with each step I took towards my future.

                Taking deep breaths, I tried to calm myself down, or at least distract myself with the new job jitters. Danny would be fine with a sitter, I hoped. Still, my fingers fumbled with the catch on my bag over and over again. I managed to stop myself from actually retrieving my phone by making myself look constipated -- squeezing my eyes tightly shut, and biting my lower lip with intense concentration made me look less than professional.

It was only when I had calmed down enough that I actually stepped towards the glass doors of Satani Media.  My fingers clutched tightly around the straps of my bag as my feet jolted to a halt. I dragged in a sharp breath as my eyes caught sight of a slightly haggard woman in the  reflective surface of doors. She was wearing the same pencil skirt and bright red blouse that I was -- she even had the same hairstyle. It only took a moment for recognition to settle in. That haggard looking woman was me.  

I appraised myself in the glass and smiled slightly. My favourite red shirt fit me a little snugger than the last time I had worn it, and my hips were a little wider too. I have to agree with Mari on this one, my boobs have definitely gotten bigger.

After a quick check of my hair, I was forced forwards due to a few impatient growls behind me.  I called some hasty apologies to the disgruntled suits, but they ignored me. Each pushed past making sure to give me a little jab as they barged their way into the building. I don’t think I had ever seen people so eager to work before.  Stroking down my hair, I sent a scowl after them - Jackasses.

Satisfied that I looked presentable, I allowed myself to take in my surroundings. With childlike curiosity, I stepped forward into my future. Opulent was an understatement in relation to this masterpiece. Sleek and glossy, the brightly lit lobby was seductively alluring. The lighting highlighted all of its good features making it all feel so welcoming, but I could tell it was all face. The strict colour scheme of black and white kept it professional. And there was something else. I couldn’t help but feel that there was something different about the building too,

 I shook my head. Day one and I’m already going crazy.

After an initial sweep of the lobby, my eyes fell upon the sleek marble topped desk. It ran the length of the wall to my right, and was manned by a girl with a headset. She did not seem to understand the concept of working attire. The blonde twiggy girl was so scantily dressed, that I felt cold just looking at her.

Stepping forward, I plastered a fake smile on my face and clicked my way across the shiny polished floors. I only paused when I stood directly before her.  Wanting to make a good impression, I straightened my shoulders and tried to make my painful smile even brighter.