1| last question

2K 55 1
                                    

I don't know if I'm the only one, but whenever I'm in a deep sleep and they start talking before I properly wake up, I don't understand shit they say. Who in their right minds starts talking as soon as they wake someone up? Who made them think that my brain would quickly process the words that leave their mouth? For any conversation to take place, you need to provide me with coffee first. This was a mistake my best friend, Jeremy, made repeatedly.

"Astrid...empire state building...caterpillar...today...remember?" I heard Jeremy say on the other side of the door, knocking with great volume. That was the other problem. People who think that being loud in the morning is a comforting thing. Any time before ten, we speak in hushed tones.

"What?" I groaned in a tiresome voice, not understanding a word he said.

"I said you have an interview at Pierce Corporation Limited at 8:30 today," he repeated, still banging his fist against the door. Ohhh, that's what he said. I rolled to the side to look at the time on my phone. 7:08am.

Shit.

I quickly fumbled out of bed, falling to the floor in the process. Rushing to the bathroom to get ready. 30 minutes. That's a record.

"Oh, thanks," I acknowledged, taking my resumé from his hands. "You had sex." I pointed out, strolling to the kitchen.

"I hate it when you do that. You need to stop profiling me." He pointed his finger at me in an accusing manner. I knew he hated when I psychoanalyzed him. It was fun for me. I was just sitting and watching someone, trying to find what made them tick.

"It's not profiling if it's so obvious." In all honesty, it was profiling. When you've lived with Jeremy for as long as I have, you tend to pick up on a few things. Particularly, his sex life because he is very active in that department.

"Let me tell you right now, he was great. It's hard to find the good ones nowadays." I laughed and glanced at my watch as I took a sip of my coffee. 7:55am. I washed out my mouth at the sink and wiped my mouth with a paper towel.

"Okay, I have to leave. Uh, wish me luck." I kissed his cheek and rushed out of the house to what I hope is my future job.

Jeremy has been my best friend since college. His parents aren't all that supportive of him, given the fact that he's gay. They literally disowned him. Since then, we've been inseparable. My family, on the other hand, is great. They wanted to provide for me but I wanted to be independent, do things on my own, and take care of myself. There have been a few bumps in the road of adulthood but we made it through. We had no choice anyway.

Looking up at the extremely tall building, I took a deep breath, wiped my sweaty hands along my skirt, held my chin up and walked up the stairs. I looked around to see ladies dressed in a manner that didn't seem professional. I raised my eyebrows at how they were touching up their makeup and unbuttoning their top buttons. Basically, they looked like---for a lack of a better word---whores.

I walked over to the blonde receptionist, who looked at me with a big smile and relief washed over her face. I guess she is happy with what she sees. She was relieved that I was not another one of the other ladies who were clearly not here for a job.

"Good morning, I'm Astrid Bloom. I'm here for the interview with Mr. Pierce," I told her and she nodded, going on her computer and clicking away on her keyboard.

"Oh, yeah, you're his 8:15. Take the elevator there; it's on the 20th floor," she pointed to the elevator to our left.

"Actually, no. I'm his 8:30," I corrected her.

"We told you 8:30 to see how early you would be. When Mr. Pierce gives a time, you should be 15–30 minutes early. No later," she informed me.

"Oh, alright then. Thank you ....." I trailed off, looking for a name somewhere.

"Blaire Simmonds." I smiled gratefully and walked to the elevator. It was a long way up, which gave me time to collect my thoughts and prepare myself for what would happen next. The elevator pinged and opened. I walked out and approached a big door with the name MR. PIERCE. I knocked gently enough for him to hear.

"Come in." I opened the door to see a man who looked to be in his late twenties or early thirties with his head down, scanning through files. I remained standing, waiting for him to acknowledge my presence.

"What are you waiting for, an invitation? Have a seat." He stretched forth his hand for my résumé, which I handed to him. I took a seat, watching him read through my file and finally close it to look at me. I almost gasped at how handsome he was. I've met good-looking guys but he was beautiful. He was more handsome than on the Internet.

"Astrid Bloom," he said. His deep British accent was not helping me in any way to concentrate. I could only clench my legs together and nod. I understand why the ladies downstairs were dressed that way. The job wasn't the goal. He was.

"3.9 G.P.A. You studied Criminology and Psychology. Straight A student," he listed my achievements along the years.

"Why are you here, darling?" he asked. He seemed to realize the effect he had on me and a smile tugged on the corner of his lips.

"I could've looked for any job in the world but I believe that a job like this could give me an insight into the world or the people in it," I answered and he narrowed his eyes, not looking pleased with my answer.

"Did you pick my company specifically?" he questioned, clasping his hands together and leaning forward a little. This gesture was something people used to intimidate the other party. I almost laughed at it.

"No sir. You simply had an open position to offer," I shrugged a shoulder with a small smile. He pursed his lips. He asked more demanding questions that got me a little nervous at first but I think I answered well.

"Okay, last question. What do you expect from being my personal assistant?" he asked. I took a minute to think about my answer.

"I did my research, sir. So to my knowledge, you have goals to further this company and it is my aim to help you get there." He kept a neutral expression and nodded. He pressed a button on his dialer on the desk.

"Blaire, tell those ladies to leave the building," he instructed and he went back to work. I assumed the interview was over, so I got up to leave but he called me back.

"Tomorrow, 7:30," he informed me with a stern face. In other words, arrive at 7:00 or you're fired. Message received, Mr. Pierce.

"So, did you get the job?" Jeremy asked as soon as I stepped through the door. His eyes were trained on the TV while watching Criminal Minds. Our favorite show.

"I mean, I guess it's fate." I paused, feigning a sad look, taking a seat beside him. He peered over at me and hugged me.

"It's okay, babe. There are other jobs," he said, pulling me into his chest and I nodded.

"Yeah, I guess it's fate that the job is definitely for me." I cracked a smile and he gently pushed me away, looking confused.

"I got the job!" I exclaimed, delirious with excitement. His eyes widened and we both got up and started dancing to absolutely no music, just in pure joy.

"We're definitely going out to celebrate. And you're going to get laid tonight," he said as soon as we calmed down and sat back on the couch.Can we just take this moment to appreciate how sexy Theo James is?❤ Like whewww😍😍

19/10/20

Au revoir......

Vote  |   Comment   |   Share

Hate To Want You (18+)Where stories live. Discover now