Once Upon a Taxi (ON HOLD)

1. "Floor It!"

   Finally, I reached the building. To say it was huge would be an understatement. I walked up to the front desk, where a middle aged lady was sitting. She smiled warmly as I walked up to her.

   “Hi, I’m Valerie Summers. It’s my first day today.” I said politely, trying to give a good impression.

   The lady quickly checked something on her computer. “Ah, yes. You’re the new assistant to Mr. Reyes’ son.”

   I nodded. “Would you mind telling me where I have to go?”

   She pointed to the elevator where a man just walked in, strangely enough; his figure reminded me of the same man who stole my taxi. I brushed that thought off and concluded that I was probably just hallucinating due to my lack of sleep.

 “Take that to the thirty-fourth floor and it’s going to be the second room on your right. Knock first though, the lad has privacy issues and not to mention some attitude problems. Try not to take anything he says to heart.” The lady continued.

“Okay, thank you.” I walked over to the elevator and pressed the up button. Oh god, I really hope he’s not some spoiled brat who’s going to make me get his coffee and do his annoying little errands all the time. On the bright side though, at least the job pays well.

   I got inside the elevator, feeling uneasy and pressed the button to take me to the thirty-fourth floor. I knew it was a long way up, so I used the couple seconds I had to try to best prepare myself. My intentions were to keep this job under all conditions. From the way I see it, this job may be the only option I actually have available to me, in the time being.

   I could see my reflection in the mirror, on the elevator. My curly brown hair was tied into a neat bun, with some wispy strands escaping. My best friend, Becky helped me choose out my outfit.

   The outfit she had chose consisted of a frilly floral print top, tucked in a high waist black pencil skirt. I was carrying a beige purse which matched my nude heels. If I had gone shopping by myself, I would never have chosen this outfit. Good thing Becky wants to be a fashion designer.

   The elevator dinged and I found the second door to the right. Not bothering to read the name plate, I knocked twice on the door. 

   “Come in.” A familiar voice said.

  My face blanched. 

 Oh crap! I know that voice! The taxi thief! Okay, I just need to stay calm. It’s probably not even him. I mean what are the odds that I would see him here. It’s probably just someone who sounds like him. Men usually sound the same anyways, except for the ones with extremely squeaky voices. Or extremely low voices. Or thick accented voices or—

   The door opened cutting me off from my internal freak out. I was staring at my feet. Then slowly, I moved my gaze to the leather shoes in front of me. Whoa, they looked expensive. Slowly, my eyes moved past his, what I assumed to be, thousand dollar suit. 

   Gathering up my courage and trying my best to stuff it in my mouth and swallow it, I looked up to meet the same blue eyes from before. I quickly glanced down, not paying much detailed attention to his facial features. I don’t know why, but it feels like I know the taxi thief from somewhere. Maybe I've seen him before in a mall or something.  

   “Are you just going to stare at me all day or come inside?” He spoke in his deep voice, raising one eyebrow. Another quick glance at his face, showed me that whatever emotions a person was supposed to have on their face, this man had wiped them straight off.

   Okay Valerie, just walk inside and introduce yourself. Apologize for the taxi thing and then just start again. Buy him coffee, he seems to like that and hopefully you’ll be forgiven. I mentally gave myself a thumbs-up for the smart idea.

    Walking inside his office, I noticed how messy it was, and the strong scent of coffee felt like it was slapping me in the face. He had some pictures hung up on his wall that caught my eye. I think I went as white as a ghost.

Crap.

Crap.

Crap.

 The realization dawned upon me, as a tank full of memories threatened to explode. The man sitting in front of me was the same man I had hoped to never meet again in all my years of living. Just to confirm it, I read the name tag he had on his desk. Maybe he won’t remember me. I pondered at the thought, and concluding that he has probably and hopefully forgotten me by now. It’s been years and I’m a forgettable person anyways! No need to worry.

   Hesitantly, I looked up to see him sitting at his desk, that familiar, yet sinister smirk was aimed in my direction.

  “Miss Summers, so we meet again.”

A/N:

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