Fakely HIS

Chapter 4

Have you ever had those dreams as a child where you felt like you wanted to suddenly be Cinderella living her fantasy?

I have.

I have always thought about those fairy tales in which I would get to play Cinderella dancing with my Prince Charming. I had always wanted to meet that Fairy Godmother, who would give me till midnight to be the most beautiful girl and dance with Prince Charming at the ball.

At this moment, I felt so damn close to being that. So damn close to being Cinderella and living my childhood dream.

I had Dale as my Fairy Godmother, dressing me up in the morning for my interview - which can be considered as The Ball from Cinderella's fairy tale - with the prince of the Manhattan family, Nicholas. Fine, Nicholas may not be my Prince Charming, but he was still someone who looked very handsome to me and he can most definitely be a prince. This was my modern fairytale. This was the most that I could get, without the reality of my life crashing into my dreams.

Shaking myself out of my thoughts, I walked to the receptionist lady who sat behind a desk outside the door that had the name that I wanted to see. Nicholas Manhattan, director.

"Hello. Good morning," the lady behind the table looked up at me as I stood before the table, greeting me in the same robotic way that she would have greeted anyone who came here, "May I help you?"

She was a middle aged woman. She would be approximately the same age my mom would have been if she was alive and that was almost fifty. She had blonde hair to her shoulder level that was straightened to perfection. There was no blemish or a wrinkle on her face, her face was flawless - or maybe she was just awesome with makeup and stuffs. All in all, she was a professional.

"Hi, I am Hayley Dixon," I greeted her with a small nervous smile of my own, the nerves that I had ditched back in the elevator slapping me in my face with full force again, "I am here to meet Mr. Manhattan."

"And your purpose, Miss. Dixon?" she inquired, still the same polite mask plastered to her face.

"Oh, sorry," I mumbled, fishing out the business card that Nicholas had given me, raising it for her to take, "I have an appointment scheduled with him at ten for an interview."

The receptionist woman got the card out of my hand, glancing over it before she gave it back to me, her actions quick and well-practiced – it was as if she had done this a hundreds of times before, which I am sure she has. She quickly went through her computer, before nodding her head looking up at me.

She smiled, "Mr. Manhattan is currently speaking to someone on phone," she waved her hand over to the big, black leather couch that was placed on the other side to where we stood near her table, closer to the wall and nodded, "If you can wait till then, it will be appreciated."

"Of course," I answered with a smile before walking over to the couch and taking a seat in it. The soft material of the leather couch hit me like a brick and I immediately wanted to curl into it, sleeping till the end of the world.

I pulled my phone out of my bag, thinking about texting James, but then at the last minute, I changed my mind and decided to text Dale instead because texting James and telling him that I was waiting outside his son's office to see him seemed a little over the top to me. I didn't want to be giving him a running commentary about what was happening with my interview every five minutes; if I texted James and started a conversation with him, I am sure that he would expect me to update him with everything about the interview every five minutes. Texting Dale on the other hand seemed like the most logical thing to do because I know that she is the only person that can calm my nerves better than I myself can do it.