Her mind whirled and whirled like a hurricane. Never had she ever expected a guy to have such an effect on her. She just could not forget those forest green eyes and that sweet alluring voice he'd used to get her enthralled.
Keith had managed to plant a seed of turmoil within her and it bloody grew faster than Jack's Beanstalk.
"Ugghh!" She growled loudly causing the driver to look at her with concern. She stifled another one which followed pronto. She had to control her bewilderment in public.
But she couldn't help it! Keith was a mystery. A walking talking -damn fine- question mark and she had uncontrollable urges to find the answer.
He had her transfixed at his bad boy demeanour of which she had a glimpse for the first time on the roof. But the following morning, he transformed into a completely different person; his nature entirely disparate to what she had seen the night before. She was now sure as hell she wasn't dreaming.
And what about the words he whispered in the morning? What did they mean? What is he aiming at?
Her grip tightened on the black file containing her portfolio. She had almost forgotten about it in between talking to her mother and Keith.
What she assumed was that his words pointed to both the guys being the same.
Are they twins? She groaned silently.
Whenever her mind conjured up the morning scenario, the goosebumps rose again. She hated it wholly. She could not give a man the leverage of having that effect on her.
But he wasn't any other man-or men if they were two.
But somewhere deep inside was the real reason she was so preoccupied with him. She felt that he had gone through something to be the way he was. Something bad. And she could relate to that. She was different before her dad's death too. Not the anger issues part, but she wasn't obnoxious and rude and closed off.
Somehow, she'd felt that chasing away the demons under his bed would help her chase away her own.
And she could never let anyone else know of her demons.
Before she could let out a groan of realization, the driver signalled to her that her destination had arrived. As if suddenly remembering she had a task to complete, she ushered out of the cab and paid the driver. Strutting towards the building, her eyes landed on the big, bold sign at the centre of the structure which said 'Fashion Era' and she sighed in astonishment.
This was one of the companies she had never tried at. So disappointed by the refusal of the small businesses, aiming at getting a post here had felt aiming for the Sun. But now she had chosen to give this a chance as well. And each passing moment made her feel more and more that her decision was right.
The building itself was so tall, she had to crane her neck to have a glimpse of the pinnacle. It could very well constitute at least eight to ten floors.
Fashion Era was a company started by Marianne, her absolute fashion idol. This building was one of the many branches all around the world. The prospect of ever working there got Blair all giddy inside.
A bead of sweat rolled down the back of her neck, taunting her hard-headed determination. Was it nervousness? But the weather sure was quite hot in the mornings.
The company was a hotshot in the fashion market and working there was in fact, a huge deal.
She gulped. Another sweaty droplet slid down her forehead this time.
Definitely the weather. She assured herself.
The rumours were that the boss wasn't bad as well. As long as the boss behaved well, Blair wouldn't have problems. Well... she thought so.
Shrugging off her past misfortunes, she walked slowly towards a new beginning, promising no one but herself that she would not let herself down this time.
Promises are meant to be kept, right?
The sliding doors drifted apart with no requirements of any pushing-pulling struggles. As soon as she stepped in, her knees almost melted into butter at the sudden cool, air-conditioned atmosphere in complete contrast to the humid, sticky and torrid weather outside.
Her previous offices wouldn't even let her work in an air-conditioned environment. She flouted at the thought.
What she expected to be a frantic crowd of workers running from place to place turned out to be well-coordinated people working calmly in an organized manner.
Sure there were shouts for fabrics and other stuff but it all seemed as if it were planned.
Her first impression of the building was that of a five-star hotel. That was how beautifully decorated its interiors were. All kinds or railings or barricades were wrapped in thin, intricate, flower-like gold designs. The wall on the left was covered with tons of sketches of designs. The wall opposite to it held framed certificates and awards from prestigious competitions. Bright lighting, decently dressed receptionists, air conditioners were all somethings her previous workplaces lacked.
The more she looked at, the more it felt like a dream. A dream that she strongly willed to achieve.
Boy! She was excited. And nervous as well.
She wanted to trot her way to the reception but that would just make her appear as though she were stupid. So she took deep breaths and carefully walked towards the huge counter like a dog on a choke collar.
Her hands faltered when she was about to keep them on the counter. Covered with a glossy, black granite with embedded semi-precious stones, she just couldn't bring herself to touch it in a belief that she would spoil it.
Trashing the rubbish theory, she rang the tiny little golden bell which stood out in a pleasing contrast to its dark substructure. Its faint 'ting' amidst the hustle of the office pulled away the receptionist, from what looked like a busy gossip session with her fellow employee.
Her face immediately lit up which left Blair unable to figure out if it was true or fake. But nonetheless, she tried to reciprocate the same brightness through a smile she sacked on her face.
"Hello, Miss! Do you have an appointment?" She said, almost robotically as if it was the first thing that came to her mind.
"I don't," Blair answered politely but a second later added, "but I heard the company's been offering intern-"
She was interrupted even before she could continue.
"Ooh!" The receptionist squealed in delight as brought her palms to her face; which seemed highly unprofessional but her enthusiasm helped boost Blair's confidence. No matter how unreal it may seem. The receptionist held up a thin little finger gesturing 'a minute' and picked up an antique looking telephone and dialled a number. Everything there seemed to be in a theme: golden, antique and elegant.
Instead of tapping her fingers over the counter, Blair utilized the time the receptionist hushed over the phone to observe her. Her hair was up in a strict bun. Her face held very minimal make-up, which was odd as she worked for a fashion company. Her uniform consisted of a beige pencil skirt and a deep burgundy blouse. It looked modest and appealing at the same time.
She liked the style.
Then her eyes landed and stayed on the brooch that went unnoticed at the first glance. The elegant little accessory rested just above her left breast and complimented the outfit as a whole. It was a fine, silvery outline of a rose with a big, fat crystal sitting right at the centre.
Her eyes flipped over in search for the other worker to verify whether the brooch was a part of the uniform but the one had mysteriously managed to vanish.
All the distractions had managed to ease her nerves.
"Miss. Mary would like to see you in her office." The lady apprised, smiling at her as though she was a baby.
Blair felt uncomfortable under her adoring gaze. Habitually, her fingers pinched a small area of skin on her hip, something she had done from a very young age when trapped in uncomfortable situations. She nodded and turned around, trying not to show her expression of disdain.
Mary. That was the name of her boss.
Did she work directly under Marianne?
The question revolved around her head. Her final destination was to reach Marianne, not someone who worked for her.
But where is her office?
"Eighth floor. Towards the left. Last door." She pointed, thankfully to Blair's consciousness.
Sighing in relief, her eyes scanned the room for a grand and golden elevator and she was not let down. Towards the back, at the very centre was a stunning glass door to the elevator with ornamental gold patterns running from the bottom to the top. As she neared it, she spotted a few sequins stuck to it as well.
The interior designer of the place must've earned more than all the houses in her neighbourhood combined.
The mention of the neighbourhood brought back the memory of the confusing (hot) geek/bad boy(s). She envisioned the scenario again and she could almost feel his warm breaths fanning the base of her neck.
Oh, stop it, Blair!
That man was infuriating her. Without even having to be present.
Clenching her jaw, she reached out to press the button for the elevator. She leaned her weight on one of her legs and waited patiently till she could hear the slight 'ding' of the elevator.
It was huge. Wide enough to fit the whole community of oldies in her neighbourhood. The insides of the elevator were no less. A soft, velvety carpet lined the base. The walls, the door and the roof were made of see-through glass which only intensified her excitement.
Someone cleared their throat loudly and Blair turned to glare at the person with all the anger she could muster.
His eyes glared back with the same power. She realised that she hadn't entered the elevator. She walked in stiffly.
His intimidating stance and crisp ironed suit, however, made her withdraw her actions. He could be someone really important and the least she could do was not piss off someone like that on the very day of her interview.
Bowing her head a little, she hugged her file a little closer to her body to stop her fingers from pinching her hip. They were the only ones in the lift.
Peeking through her hair, she surveyed him. His hair was turning a bit grey near the ears. Minute wrinkles adorned his eyes, reflecting his age more precisely. He looked to be around his mid-forties.
Her eyes then fell to the gorgeous Armani suit appareling his virile frame, and boy! That looked like the most expensive suit she had ever laid her eyes on.
The box came to a halt and doors opened, letting the man step out to his destined floor. She watched him go when another figure came in the line of her vision.
Keith fricking Jones! What the hell is he doing here? Wait, no... where are his glasses?
Her hands rushed to the open-door button at the control panel but she turned out to be too slow since the elevator doors had already squeezed shut. Helplessly, her hands shot out to the doors and all she could do was watch his shadow scoot out of her sight.
Keith was back, or his probable twin because the guy who just walked away was the guy she talked to on the roof.
But her interview was more important. Yes. Definitely more important than some petty pretty neighbour.
He could be dealt with later but right now, she had the boss to woo.
Keith, you won't be out of my target anytime soon.
|||||| END OF CHAPTER 3 ||||||
This chapter totally honestly completely sucks! It's just horrible but I had to get it out of my mind. It's basically a draft which I'll be sure to edit later.
Forgive me for this horrid piece of work.
Word Count- 1992 words
Pears 🍐