chapter 65

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Chapter 65

I stood in front of the mirror and nervously blew out a breath, trying to calm myself down. I used my hands to smooth down my hair before stopping to look at myself. I was wearing a crisp, white shirt, black blazer and a black pencil skirt with my black Louboutins. I quickly sprayed my Coco Mademoiselle perfume on my neck before grabbing my bag and leaving.

I arrived at work half an hour early as I was worried the traffic would make me late, so I went to the Starbucks which was across the road 'YAY!' I thought, and bought a latte to give me a caffeine boost before my first day at work. I sat in a table near the window and watched as my colleagues for the next year headed into work. My phone beeped as I told myself I'd head over in five minutes. I was surprised to find three messages that I hadn't heard.

Louis: 'You'll kill it! So proud of you. Good luck babe! Xx'

Mum: 'Good luck hunny, we're so proud of you, we know you'll do well. Love mum and dad xxxx'

Lucas: 'Good luck knob head! You'll be fine!'

Caleb: 'Don't screw up. Good luck!'

I rolled my eyes to my brothers, it was typical, we'd always abused each other, even when we had something nice to say. I replied to each of them before turning my phone off and putting it in my bag. I quickly ate a mint before heading over the road.

I pulled open the door of the large glass building and stepped inside. I headed over to the receptionist to ask where I should go, but before I got there a large man interrupted my stride.

'You must be Aria!' He boomed. His voice was powerful and loud, totally the voice a high class barrister would have. He reached out a hand for me to shake which I took before replying.

'That's right. You must be Mr. Barlow' My entire arm went as he pumped my hand up and down. 'It's a pleasure to meet you.'

'Likewise' He bellowed. I flinched inwardly at the volume; it was going to take some getting used to. 'You'll be working with me for the next 6 months before you go into doing your own thing. Now, I'll show you where you'll be working.' Before I could thank him for the opportunity he'd started marching towards the lift. He pressed the button and stepped back, gesturing for me to head in first.

He was obviously one of those people that didn't like talking in lifts as he made a point of standing in front of me, facing the doors. I took the opportunity to take him in. He was about 6'3, muscular, with dark, greying hair that contrasted with his pale, aging skin. When I'd spoken to him the first thing I'd noticed were his shocking green eyes. He stood with his back straight, shoulders back and his strong hands clasped behind his back. He was definitely intimidating. No wonder he was so good in a court room.

The lift stopped and the doors smoothly swept open, revealing a large office surrounded by glass. There was one large wooden desk which faced the lift with a set of chairs, a massive bookcase that I was completely envious of, I could have easily filled it, a water fountain and a large, soft looking sofa. There were filing cabinets against one of the walls and a top of the range Apple computer on the desk. It was bright and spacious, an office I would love to have in the future. As we walked into the room I noticed a door leading off to another room. The wall between the rooms was also glass, I could see another, smaller desk with an Apple computer that matched the one in the bigger room. There was a smaller bookcase and only two filing cabinets. There was a small sofa that looked lumpy and nowhere near as grand as the one in Mr. Barlow's office.

'Well, this is my office.' He said, gesturing to the room. 'That's yours through there. You can make it your own, bring in pictures, plants, whatever you want, I don't mind. It's yours now.' He said with a smile. 'We have to be at the court in about half an hour so we haven't got much time. We're on floor 7 and I'll get your identity pass to you later. We'd best get going.' He grabbed an expensive looking coat from the back of his desk chair and made his way back to the lift. I hadn't moved from where I'd stood once I'd entered the room, so I spun around and entered the lift again.

While the lift descended I plucked up the courage to speak. 'I'd just like to thank you for this experience Mr. Barlow. I'm very grateful.' Unfortunately, it was to his back as he was stood in front of me again.

To my surprise he turned around and spoke. 'It's my pleasure. I hope you enjoy your time here.' I suddenly felt uncomfortable when his gaze swept down on my body. 'You're already dressed the part. I've had people here before looking like they've just stepped out of a camping trip.' He smiled before turning around again. 'And call me Steve, Mr. Barlow sounds so formal. I simply can't be doing with it.'

He was so formal and powerful looking I didn't know if I'd be able to do it but I'd definitely feel bad if I didn't do as he said, so I had no choice. I followed him out of the building, practically running to keep up with his long stride. 'Did you drive here?' he asked as we waited by the side of the road.

'Yeah, the traffic wasn't as bad as I'd expected.' I looked down the road to see if I could guess which car was his. I highly doubted it was the banged up fiesta that came chugging down the road.

'It will get worse. Which car is yours?' He frowned as he looked around, clearly doing what I was.

'The blue VW beetle opposite Starbucks' I grinned.

'Wow, a girl that appreciates vintage cars. I'm impressed!' His voice was so loud it didn't need to be raised over the sound of the traffic, whereas when I spoke, I practically had to shout so he could hear.

'I grew up with brothers and a father that were mad about cars.' I smiled, just as a swanky Rolls Royce pulled up in front of us. 'Wow.' I mumbled.

'And that...' he smiled '...is my car. Come on, hop in.' The driver got out and held the door open for me. I slid inside. The cream leather was surprisingly warm against my legs.

'This is impressive.' I set my hands in my lap, on top of my bag, not wanting to touch anything and get fingerprints on it.

'Thank you.'

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