Fascination

Chapter One

   "Oh, Bam. I knew you'd get the promotion." My mother squealed over the speaker phone.
   I laughed and stood from my new, plush chair, phone in hand, and walked to the large widows overlooking upper Manhattan. "Everyone knew I would get the promotion, mom. And what have I told you about calling me Bam? You know I hate that nick name."
   "Keep your panties on, no one can hear me. Besides, I don't think Allie suits your sparkling personality." She said, her sarcasm practically dripping through the phone line.
   "It suits my personality just fine, mom," I stifled a sigh, "hey, I've gotta go. Mr. Rowell wants to meet me in his office in ten minutes. I'll talk to you tomorrow, alright?" I moved back to my desk, just wanting to get his phone call over with my overbearing mother.
   "Alright, I love you. And honey, I'm so proud of you."
   "Thanks, mom." I said before hitting the end button and setting my phone on the desk as I examined my name plaque. It was a little cool seeing my name inscribed on something, even if it was just cheap metal
As I waited my ten minutes, fiddling with random things around the room, but I was surprised by a call from an unfamiliar number. After letting it ring, I went and listened to the voicemail. "Uh, hey, Allie. It's Mitch. You know, from last night. Listen, I had a great time and was wondering if you wanted to grab lunch? Anyways, call me back when you get the chance," the voicemail seemed like it was going to end, but the voice quickly popped back, "oh, and you forgot your lipgloss in my bathroom. You know, the dark MAC one. Okay... Bye." Then it ended.
'Fuck,' I though to myself, 'I loved that lipgloss.' I dropped my phone on my desk and left my office with a dramatic sigh.
The office was wild with coworkers and interns, all rushing around to make preparations or to finish projects before their deadline. I rushed to make an elevator in time and rode all the way up, bouncing on my heels and trying my best not to move around too much in the elevator that had to be packed past capacity.
Upon exiting the elevator, I was attacked by a petite little blonde with a clipboard, coffee, and a great manicure.
"Mr. Rowell is a very busy man, so don't waste his time." The petite blonde skipped introductions and immediately began with the necessities, walking swiftly in front of me, I rushed after her, practically jogging to keep up. "Don't use word fillers and if he asks you a question, don't bead around the bush. If you get nervous or don't know what to say, drink this." She handed me the warm, foam coffee and stopped in front of large double doors. "And don't forget," the blonde pulled a large grin, crinkling her eyes, "smile." I pulled my best smile and the blonde, apparently satisfied, left me alone in front of the intimidating doors.
   My legs shook slightly at the intimidation of the entire situation. Would Mr. Rowell like me? Would he regret his decision to promote me? I pushed out my confident side.
   Of course he'll like me. I'm fucking amazing. And regretting the promotion? I was the only person on floors two through ten that knew what they were doing. I've got this meeting in the bag.
   Confidently, I pushed open the doors and strode through them. The inside of the room was lit only by the light shining through the grey curtains over the windows, but it was still enough light to see the details of the room. A long, oak meeting table sat in the center of the room, but the desk chairs surrounding the table were all empty except for one at the opposite end of the room. In it sat Mr. Rowell.
   He was in his mid-to-late fifties, with grey hair streaked with black, decently wrinkled, tan skin, and beady black eyes that bore into your soul that were hidden between silver framed glasses. "Ah, Ms. Walters. Shut the door, please." I did as I was told and moved to the chair at the opposite end of the long table, opening my mouth to greet him. "Oh, don't sit all the way over there, I want to have a conversation with you. Not an interrogation."
   "Of course, sir." I pulled me smile as Blondie instructed me to and strode confidently across the room, extending me hand to Mr. Rowell. He stood and shook my hand firmly and waited until I sat to sit himself again. "I want to thank you for this promotion. It's a great-"
   "Yes, I know, Mr. Walters. You don't have to thank me profusely, you were the only person who deserved this position." He gave me a small smile, showing a good set of pearly whites. I couldn't help but think that he had to have been attractive back when he was my age.
   "Of course, sir. I just want you to know I'm appreciative."
   "As you should be. But you know what interested me most about you, Ms. Walters?" I shook my head. "Your background. You came from a small town in California all the way up here to the Big City. What pushed you out?"
   I took up a sip of my coffee. "Well, sir. It wasn't really what pushed me out, but what pulled me in. California's fantastic and all, and L.A. is just as amazing as New York. But when you watch T.V. and movies, it's all New York this and Big Apple that. You don't see much about California in the business way, it's mainly skateboarding, Hollywood, and surfing. I've just always wanted to live in this city, sir." I kept my smile.
   Rowell nodded and rubbed his chin with the side of his forefinger. Apparently my answer was still sinking in. "Fascinating answer, Ms. Walters. Why my corporation?"
   "It's the biggest of its kind in New York sir. So, of course, if I was attracted to the popularity of the city, I would be attracted to the popularity of this company."
   He nodded and absorbed my answer, a grin forming across his face. "And your home life? Your mother and father? Brothers and sisters?"
   His question stumped me and I stuttered. "Well, sir..."
   "Father, don't you think you've tortured this poor girl enough?" A voice saved me from answering.
   I turned in my chair to see a tall handsome man standing next to the open door. He looked strikingly similar to Mr. Rowell,-which could be explain with the father comment-with jet black hair, the same skin tone and deep, dark eyes. He smiled, showing an equally perfect set of teeth, and strode towards us.
   "I was just trying to get to know, Ms. Walters, William." I looked between the two as they were in the middle of a staring death match. The testosterone in the air was enough to suffocate me.
   William came and pulled out me chair. "I'm sure you were," he gave me a smile and helped me out of the chair, leading me towards the door with a hand to the small of my back. "Sorry to cut your meeting short, but I'm sure you understand, Ms. Walters." We stepped out into the hallways. "And I'm equally sure you're ecstatic about getting out of that room. Try and enjoy the rest of the day, don't let my nosy father ruin it." He surprised me with a kiss to the hand before shutting the door in my face.
   A million feelings and thoughts raced through my head, but the only thing that stuck out was the fact that I was going to screw that man, so help me God.