Amelia had everything- family, friends, a promising future- the sky was the limit. But just like that everything was taken from her. One moment she's planning her high school graduation party the next she's laying on a therapist's couch. It was as i...
"When I was fifteen I worked as an aide at my father's business in New York. However, I don't really consider that work. Most of the time I was just answering the phones and relaying information over to my father and his coworkers. And, I would occasionally run out for coffee," I explained.
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His eyebrows drew together. "How much were you getting paid for that?"
His question had me thinking back to those early summers when I was still in high school. The memories were still foggy but I vaguely remembered traveling to and from work with my father, all the while his business partners were on vacation. Between the ongoing bitching from my father and the consistent complaints from clients I was stuck as the unfortunate middle man. The middle man that wasted the summers away in a drafty, four floored building who was barely making enough to be considered pocket money. How much had I been paid?
Not friggin enough, that's for sure!
"About ten dollars a day," I replied. "Like I said, I don't consider that legitimate work."
For a second I thought I saw a hint of disappointment cross his eyes.
"Unfortunately, Ms. Peterson, a lot of what you have said is what is expected of you as an assistant. I do expect you to answer the phones and keep track of what times my sessions start and when they end."
My stomach dropped again in fear. I was blowing this interview.
"Dr. Broderick, I assure you that this job is no comparison to where I've worked. A job like this has more meaning to me than any other I've had in the past."
His expression remained unhinged. "How so?"
"If I were to work here, I would feel like I'm making a difference in people who are looking for help. I want to be a part of that help. Everything that I have listed on my resume. . . I was never used to my fullest potential."
Dr. Broderick leaned back in his chair. His eyes fell to his desk like he was entering a deep thought. "Your resume also mentions that you are currently an undergraduate at Macon University."
I nodded my head in confirmation. "Yes, I graduate next week."
"What is your major?" he asked
"Psychology. More specifically, clinical psychology." Had I not mentioned that on my resume? Christ, I read over the damn thing so many times I couldn't even recall if I even listed my contact information. Everything felt like a jumbled up blur.
I watched his head tilt to the side. His eyes narrowed back on me, only this time I felt them land on my lips. Once again his face went blank of all emotion. He studied my posture with great intensity as if he were waiting for me to break.
"How old are you?" His voice dropped to a more husky tone causing a chill to reach up my spine.
"How old do I look?" I wanted to ask. I've always appeared younger than my actual age. No matter what I wore, how I styled my hair, or how much makeup I used; I have always passed as a freshman in college. Keep in mind that my body was fully developed, however my face always kept its innocent feature.
Yeah, that's about the only thing innocent about you, sweetheart.
I answered without hesitation, "I just turned twenty three."
His brows raised in what I assumed was surprise. I knew for certain that I was not the only twenty three year old applying for this position. So why did he hold a look of disbelief in his eyes?
Did he not believe me? Or was it because of my age that he didn't believe I wasn't experienced enough?
Whatever the reason may be, he was taken back by my answer which only made me more distressed that I wasn't getting the job.
"Ms. Peterson, I'm sure you are well aware of the other people that have applied for this job. Most of which have come from your university." He folded his hands and leaned over his desk. The muscles in his arms shaped through his dress shirt. Sweet Jesus, this man was exquisite. "So, I want you to answer this next question with complete honesty." Oh, boy.
"Okay. . ." my voice was shaky.
"Of all the young women that have come to my office for an interview, what makes you any different from them?" I felt a twinge of degradation in his words.
My one brow raised. "Are you sure you want me to answer that question, Sir?" I waited until he nodded his head. My attention fell into my lap where my hands were starting to shake.
Don't let this man scare you into a bundle of nerves. Stand up to his audacious question since he appears to think very highly of himself. Even you will admit that beauty can dissolve to nothing if a person is narcissistic. Straighten your shoulders, look him dead in the eyes, and make his jaw drop. Now!
I pressed my back against the chair and held my chin up. "Of all the women that have come here for an interview. . .''our eyes locked. "I'm the only one that doesn't carry an agenda of ever sleeping with you." I kept my mouth from falling open over the words that had just slipped from my mouth.
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Hey Everyone! As I'm sure many of you have noticed, Amelia has not been paired to another 'actual' persona like Elijah has yet. (I'm still looking for the right character inspiration!) But note, that she does have dirty blonde hair and blue eyes.
