The sound of slamming brings me back from my wrack of nerves; I look towards the office door of hell and wonder to myself why I was even here? I knew why I was here, I wanted this job badly every editor did it was the best firm in New York City, yet it came with an ugly price. Twiddling my clammy fingers the only sound is off tapping feet, shuffling and a telephone ringing. All the attendee’s where just as nervous as I was, a few minutes later a middle aged woman shuffles out of the office door of hell, her auburn hair covering her ashamed face yet you could tell by the heaves of her shoulders that she was crying. Maybe if I left now I could forget this whole thing and go back to my studio apartment?
“Miss Peterson?” I gulp uneasily too little too late. Standing on shaking legs I feel like bambi ready to be slaughtered, the receptionist smiles at me and I know it’s with amusement you could tell by the gleam in those dirty green eyes she enjoyed watching us all crack under the pressure of Jack Stone, the most talented man in all of history, okay so that was an over statement.
“Mr Stone is ready for you now.” Nodding in her direction I hesitantly walk towards the door, do I knock? Did the others knock? I look around at the other attendees with a wistful help me look, they’re all holding their breaths. I raise my hand to knock it quivering under pressure.
“Come in.” Even though I’m not in the same room as him I could feel the chill of his presence, could I do this? Yes, I had to, I have to give it a shot if not years from now I will be thinking about how I made the wrong choice sitting behind a make shift desk filled with stories and being under waged. Opening the doors I stare around his gigantic office, did anyone actually need something this big for answering the phone and staring at a computer all day? I hush at my mind as it goes into overdrive I was full of nerves it was as if being thrown into a hole full of snakes. The office was spacious, white of course, and each item of furniture was a mahogany brown from the desk, to the sofa in the corner, a fish tank stood by it and I wonder how someone so cold and calculated could be responsible for looking after fish or any kind of animal.
“Please take a seat.” Mr Stone says wavering his manicured hand towards the mahogany leather chair, smiling I sit down. He was as good looking as everyone had said, light brown stylised hair that screams wealth, his square jaw lined with stubble, to his crooked nose from the bar fight in Orlando, to his uncertain coco coloured eyes. “To tell you the truth Miss Peterson I would have thought of you to be a little bit older, how old are you?”
I chew at the inside of my mouth, it was the one thing I had worried about I was fresh out of graduation, no experience only qualifications. “I’m twenty three Mr Stone.” He runs his fingers from the top of his jaw down to his chin, repeating it as he looks at me his eyes calculating and cold, yet was hypnotising in such a way it made me blush uncontrollably.
“So Jane, can I call you Jane?” I nod as he looks at me, his hands now occupied by a ball made of elastic bands, it was as if his hands couldn’t keep still for more than a second. “What has possessed you to apply for a job at New York editing enterprise, with no experience what so ever?” I swallow and wonder if my mouth will be able to function, sitting up straight I look at him in his cold, dark haunting eyes and smile sweetly at him.
“Well as you can see by my references in front of you, my grades our one of the best in the city, yes Mr Stone I may not have any experience but I am a fast learner and I if I may would say by my own accord my high grades make up for that.” I smile at myself in my head at how pleased I was, my answer couldn’t have been any better. His hands actually stop twiddling the rubber ball in his hands and he turns to fully face me a gleam in his eyes.
“Yes of course Jane, your grades are very impressive and bare in mind it’s the only reason you are sat where you are now, but why would I want to waste my time babysitting an infant?” I swallow the tears threatening to leak, why was this man so harsh? I wonder how his wife coped with him and his shallow, evil alter ego.
YOU ARE READING
The Perfect Love AffairRomance
R- Rated. When twenty three year old Jane Peterson is accepted at New York editing enterprise her life is literally thrown upside down, she never expected her first relationship would be with a married man she called boss. He was cold, calculating...