Copyright 2016 fuIl_of_fun All Rights Reserved.
COPYRIGHT. This story "Leaving His Mark" including all chapters, prologues/epilogues, and associated content(fanfics,,teasers, and content within blogs, social networks and eReaders) is copyrighted under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
*************************************
Chapter One
"Anna, good you're here. Please come in and take a seat. I have some figures to recalculate so I won't take long and then we can discuss matters. " The familiar clear cut masculine voice welcomed my arrival. I proceeded towards the plush, chalk white pristine lounge chair that accompanied the shiny sleek black office desk, both the predominant centrepieces of the office. My boss sat idly outstretched in a curt manner behind the desk, hands crossed, looking directly at me, an engraved fountain pen lay outstretched beside his forearm. His crystal blue eyes following my every move as I perched on the edge of the chair and crossed my legs, my black heel almost touching the small bin that lay underneath. I glanced at Jackson Harris, taking in his appearance and gauging what particular mood he was in on this crisp Monday morning. His charcoal black hair was gelled into a slick comb over, an attempt to hide the underlying greys. His crisp navy suit was flawless, not a crease in sight. Although the first three buttons of his shirt were undone, a common action carried out when he was anxious about something rather significant. A sharp glint of light flickered out of the corner of my eye. It drew my sight to it's source, a gold wedding band.
I had met Freida Harris at the staff Christmas celebration ball five years previous. She was a hard-headed woman with an elaborate love for her husband. The two were a perfect match. Both possessed a desirable work ethic. Freida had her own chain of salons across the Big Apple earning her a credible reputation amongst A-listed celebrities and entrepreneurs alike. They had two children whom I'd never met. Jackson Harris was a private man and that was a well respected attribute amongst many including myself.
The clock that hung on the cool beige-coloured wall displayed that it was eight-fifty five. It's persistent ticking added to the thick tension that filled the room. I always stressed about time particularly where work was concerned. Officially, I wasn't expected to start work until quarter past nine but I liked being punctual. Mr Harris had requested my presence as soon as I had walked out of the elevator. I was aware of the three upcoming meetings scheduled for today involving updates concerning six properties our realtors represented for the three primary districts in Manhattan; Lenox Hill, Flatiron District and Carnegie Hill. Primarily, they are the "three gold mines" as referred to by Luxury Listings. The average penthouse between each district would fetch around $25,000,000. Our job is to send out our realtors who target those who are willing to merge in the purchase of properties and then re-sell to our target market. We have at least fifteen mergers that accompany us in the purchasing of property. Once we sell the property's the mergers choose to co-invest in, the profits are split. Specifically, my job is to tend to our finances. Our financial inputs and outputs, our gains and losses, our threats and strengths. The realtors that were due in today were our top three representatives.
I looked down onto the desk and saw the spread sheets that I had printed off yesterday in preparation for the meeting. I hoped I hadn't screwed anything up, I always checked over the figures and corresponded the information to prevent any potential errors or losses. God knows it could be the one weakness in ultimately securing a contract. Doubts flew through my mind. It would take me another half an hour to re-edit them and the realtors are due in at different times throughout the day.
The sun blazed through the large white paned windows. Our floor was on the top. The view was impeccable and I often enjoyed sipping a frothy cappuccino whilst pondering upon new ideas that would potentially rank the company on Forbes' top ten favourable investments whilst admiring the hustle and bustle of the world down below. That was one of the thrilling aspects of working here, setting a goal and achieving both the aspired goal and but also a whopping pay increase. I had proposed at least two promising ideas that had benefited the company and other surrounding businesses: we invest in businesses that furnish our properties. Be-it an aspiring contemporary furniture store or a DIY tools and services provider. They furnish our properties or fit windows whilst we keep our mergers happy. The idea went down a storm and as a result we have ten more mergers and I had a whopping pay check.
The clicking and typing stopped and I looked at Mr Harris and smiled. He was a really well likable man. "Now that's all finished, we have something to discuss." I thoroughly enjoy working for such a nice... "There's no easy way to put this and I won't patronise you by sugar coating it" Professional.. "Anna, as you know, we really value your contribution to this company and we have immense gratitude for everything that you have accomplished for Secureware." Sincere.."However, we feel that going forward we need a fresh outlook on things and that should reflect in our staff and uh.. overqualified individuals such as yourself may hinder our future progression. You have a textbook amount of amazing ideas but we just need a fresh look, a new beginning. We have two assistants here, as you know Claire and Elizabeth, they will take up where you leave off but I can assure you they will have a difficult job reaching the high expectations that you have established. I will write your recommendation for you and you can collect it here with the rest of your things sometime maybe later on towards the end of the week? I'm sincerely apologise and wish you well with your future involvements'' Piece of shit!
I looked at my boss of six years with my jaw down to my ankles. You have GOT to be kidding me! I could almost hear my conscience whispering an I told you so with a sneer. Overqualified? Fresh look? What utter bullshit! Jackson Harris clasped his hand together in an awkward manner. A sheet of sweat glistened along his forehead in the early morning Manhattan sun. He was nervous. More nervous than I think I've ever seen him. I even knew his bodily reactions when something irked him, better than he did in fact. I could feel my blood boil internally and it took every single ounce of self-restraint not to clobber him over the head with the fake plant that stood a few inches away from me. Usually, I would make it an utmost obligation to fulfil my job description with a calm, optimistic approach. Those days are certainly over now. That thought snapped my daze instantly into reality. My focus landed back on him. I was expecting someone to jump out and say April Fool's, even though it was September.
He was tugging at his grey striped Carino tie. I was biting my check so hard I could taste the metallic tang of blood. I refuse to give him and every other member of staff the satisfaction of seeing my switch flip and insane mode switch on. What irked me even more was how nonchalant he was about the whole thing, aside from the anxious reactions. Not even displaying an inch of compassion. Even his apology was forced and ever so formal. I had thought that as we had worked for so long together, he would at least have a remote ounce of respect for me but there was nothing. He played with the black pen that lay idly in front of him on the desk. I scoffed which caused him to glance up at me, holding my stare. Hm, maybe there is a ball sack there after all. I get an annual salary of $54,000 after tax for a position as head of Corporate Finance. Well at least I did.
I felt very uncomfortable, like I really needed to escape out of that claustrophobic space. I gathered my black briefcase which had been idly lying against my leg and glanced at him again, somewhere in the back of mind still clinging to the idea that this was a joke. I waited for him to snap out of it and realise what he was doing. But he was now removing invisible crumbs from his pristine tailored suit jacket., looking anywhere but straight ahead. Fine. I got up and walked across the ivory carpet. My legs were shaking with an unidentifiable emotion. At this rate, I just wanted to go home. I opened and closed it gently, not giving anyone the satisfaction of seeing how I really felt about the matter. I had walked out of this office many times, always returning to my own desk continuing with my assigned work. Now this would more than likely be the last time I would walk out of here. Recommendation? It better be screaming with adjectives. The good kind. Although with the way I was feeling, no words written on paper would compensate the betrayal I felt.
I remained calm and collected and walked towards the main doorway that centred the room, now full of pencil skirts and the blinding light of laptop screens. The familiar clicking of high heels and the furious tapping of keyboards filled my ears. Soon enough the sound of hushed voices would fill the room. Gossip spread like wild fire around here. I merely shrugged the thought away. I walked by each and every one of their staring, curiosity-filled faces. Claire and Elizabeth were by the coffee machine suppressing their smirks. I walked along the corridor, restraining myself from raising a certain finger in an inappropriate manner. No eye contact with anyone. I kept repeating the same mantra in my head. Yes I can do this almost there. With the elevator approaching, I strode the last step until I dived straight into the elevator.
I breathed a sigh of relief. I checked my hair in the mirror on the elevator wall and instantly regretted doing so. My previously neatly perfected hair had a few awkward strands jutting out in all positions. I groaned in either frustration or embarrassment, I couldn't tell which emotion. My cheeks were flushed and my green blouse was creased. I I looked like I just had a quickie in the nearest cubicle. I fixed myself as much as I could. Good God, I am a twenty three year old woman with the mentality of a six year old. I tucked the loose tendrils of my chestnut brown wavy hair behind my ear, attracting my beloved pearl earrings, a family heirloom passed down from my great great-grandmother. I stroked them in an act of admiration. I brushed my eyelashes up, half-attempting to curl them slightly. A half-ass attempt to make it look as though there was a pulse through my veins. My dark brown eyes stared back at me, dilated under the dim light of the elevator. The slight trail of freckles across my nose were peeping through. I let out a curse and sunk back against the wall. I sighed, holding my head in my hands in an attempt to shake my pessimistic thoughts out with onto each floor that the elevator passed by.
There was a ping and the doors opened.
I stepped out into the lobby on the ground floor of the building. To my right, the receptionist was flicking through a Vogue magazine, obviously unaffected by my presence. I took that as my prime opportunity and quickly ran through the front doors onto the street where many citizens stared at me like I had just committed a crime. I inhaled deeply, trying to make sense of the predicament I was now in. Each second, each moment that composed the incident I had just undergone crept back as a vivid flashback. I felt dizzy and had to hold my head in my hands in an attempt to grasp my self-control. I pushed each thought to the back of my mind and saw an approaching yellow cab heading in my direction. I held my hand out and gathered my briefcase as it arrived. I clambered in and threw a ten dollar note at him and told him my address. My head laid back against the cold, dense leather seat. I glanced out the window. The traffic was crazy as every other day in NYC. I loved living here. Everything about it attracted my attention. From the hustle and bustle during the day to the amazing array of night life. If I were to remain here, I would have to get another job. My rent was $900 per month, divided between myself and Julie, my room-mate. I had to think ahead. As soon as I would get home, I would have to start searching for another job. One that would meet the monthly demands of the life of which I've grown to adore.
We arrived outside my apartment in less than ten minutes. During the entire journey I barely moved and never said a word, just barely keeping my thoughts to myself. I grabbed my briefcase, shoved my hands into my skirt pocket and grabbed the keys, unlocking the door. I walked in and dropped my briefcase, nudging it to the side with my foot. I ran a hand through my hair and kicked off my heel and a half whilst leavening out my breathing. I had to stay calm and refrain myself from blurting everything out to Julie.
I walked into the living room to find her armed with a make-up bag in one hand and a backless black shimmer dress in the other. Her back was facing me. I went to retreat out of the living room when I felt a hand on my arm. "Oh no you don't." She dragged me back onto the leather sofa. "I know what happened.'' I raised an eyebrow and she pointed towards the envelope on the coffee table. "Pink slip. Sorry I opened it, the mailman said it was for me." I rolled my eyes. Not that it mattered, it just fuelled my reality into perspective.
I leaned back into the sofa, sighing in defeat. I felt like curling up into a ball in the corner with a bottle of Gallo and a Nicholas Sparks novel. Jules had alternative plans. '' We are going out to Ecstasy tonight. I picked up a new dress for you at that new boutique on the corner of St Mark's. You can protest all you want, Ana. You need to go out, regain your social life and just forget for even a short period of time. Besides, we haven't had a night out in ages. You have some money stashed away and if it comes to it, I'll pay your rent until you get back on your feet" Julie was a PA for Damian White, a co-owner of one of the most successful accountancy firms in Manhattan. She was ambitious in every sense of the word and one heck of an employee. She deserved to be where she was and I hated to admit that I agreed with her. The problem I had though was that Julie, my so-called beloved best friend, would abandon me to go hit on some potential "acquaintance" while I'd be stuck at the bar, by myself, looking like a depressed fifty-year old having a mid-life crisis and giving the bartender an earache. Oh, the anticipation is killing me.
*****************************************************************************
And that is Chapter One out of the way.
Also, this has been edited almost six times and if you guys can spot any more mistakes, please notify me of them.
Thanks and Happy Reading!