Samantha Anderson
I held onto the notebook, hands shaking. I've never really considered myself to be a particularly nervous person. Today, however, I was a crumbling ball of anxiety. My stomach was in knots and I felt physically ill. It was nearing on embarrassing, although I don't think anyone saw me nearly trip on my heels as I was walking in.
At least, I hope to God above no one saw me.
Damn, that would be a fantastic way to start.
I was beginning an internship with a massive fashion company after graduating with a degree in design and style. I was definitely not the classy woman that most expected in a place like this, but I sure could play the part.
A man approached me. He had dark hair, all flying up in a styled manner. He wore a sleek navy suit with gold accents and a content facial expression. He exuded confidence and I recognized him almost immediately: Louis Tomlinson.
"Hello, Mr. Tomlinson," I smiled, hoping I appeared calmer than I felt. I put my shaking hand out to grasp his large, muscular one. How the heck did someone have muscular hands?
Mr. Tomlinson was the CEO and head designer at Tomlinson Designs. He was a big deal and I could hardly believe I was meeting him on my very first day. More often then not, interns did not meet CEOs so the very fact that I was meeting with him spoke volumes about his company and his character. It also did a number on my nerves and anxiety.
This man controlled my paycheck and one slip up would pretty much boot me out. Mr. Tomlinson did not need me; however, I sure as hell needed him.
"Hello, Ms.," he looked at his notes, searching for my name. He as holding a large portfolio, "Anderson! Welcome to Tomlinson Designs, we're excited to have you!"
"Thank you so much, I'm absolutely, thrilled to be here," I grinned, feeling my body relax a bit at his comforting gaze. He easily led me across the waiting room and towards his office. He gestured for me to take a seat in one of the leather chairs that sat in front of his desk. His office was, in one word, impeccable. The walls were clear glass, looking out across Soho with furniture that was all leather and a dark desk made of cherry wood. His office was nicer than my apartment.
It likely also costed a hell of a lot more. Designs were hung up all around the walls, with mannequins sitting in one end of the office. All of these helped show the creative aspect of his job beyond just his job as a CEO.
"So, you're interested in men's and women's design?" he asked, looking through my application. His fingers traced the words, obviously looking intently at my hard worked application. I'd spent hours pouring over it, so it was pleasant to see him actually caring about it.
"Yes, um, during my time at NYU for my undergrad we had to do some work with men's fashion so I got really interested, although I typically worked in women's. Then, when I got accepted to Parsons for my M.A. I guess it just sort of stuck with me," I explained, probably sounding like I was rambling. A nervous Samantha equalled a very, very talkative one.
"Very, very impressive. I see why we hired you," he grinned, referring to my credentials. "Well, you will be starting out as an assisting intern, for now. Which means you will be working alongside me, acting as more of an assistant than anything. My usual assistant is on maternity leave at this time so you will be filling in for her on top of classic intern duties: coffee runs, making copies, et cetera. I also hope to see you do some on-hands designing, just to gain the necessary experience you're looking for."
I nodded my head, overjoyed. He continued, "And, hopefully, if you do well, you will be brought on as a full-time, well-paid employee, but, like the rest of us, now is the time to pay your dues."
"That would really be wonderful, Mr. Tomlinson! Thank you, so much!" I exclaimed, crossing my heel clad leg and pulling at my skirt.
"Please, call me Louis," he said, lacing his fingers together, "As you know, Fashion Week is coming up within the next month or so. I have been fortunate enough to be organizing a runway show of my own. That is what we will be working on these next few weeks. Truthfully, you came at the perfect time to experience the fashion world."
"Thank you so, so much for this opportunity, Mr. To- Louis," I responded. My face hurt from all the smiling, but I was just so happy. When I had first gotten the call for the job I'd nearly cried, but it was all becoming so real that I could hardly fathom it.
"It's my pleasure, love," he laughed, his English accent making me swoon. "I'll show you to your office. Most of your work will start with typical intern projects: errands and grabbing me clothing from different stores and producers. It'll likely be pretty boring, but it is great to understand the business. Hopefully, you'll excel and we'll be able to do more with you from there."
I nodded my head, eager to begin, but surprised on one part of his discussion, "Office?"
"Of course, everyone here has their own office, even interns," he chuckled, running a hand through his dark hair. I couldn't help but appreciate how attractive and young he is. He had dark, brown hair that was incredibly sleek looking. He had slight stubble over his jaw and around his mouth, showing off his defined jaw. His eyes were bright and blue and they shined. His suit, though, was the real show stopper. It was crisp and well made and was a deep blue that matched his eyes. I just knew it was a Tomlinson Original. Everything about him screamed beautiful and complex and utterly unique.
Therefore, I was happy I had dressed my best today or else I would have felt highly underdressed, everyone looked beautiful and perfectly put together. A shop over to Saks had been made. My heart was happy. My wallet, however, was not.
"By the way," he began, standing in front of a door, "is that a new Gucci?"
I looked down at my bag I was holding and smiled, "It is, it's the Marmont, from this season."
"Well, love, you have marvelous taste. I just bought my fiancee the same bag, but in white. She's absolutely in love with it. I've always been a fan of the work, simple, yet stunning. Much more accessible compared to some of those other designers, " he smiled, getting a distant look on his face. He was obviously thinking of his unnamed girlfriend.Or the purse. Either way, I related.
"Anyways," he shook his head, "here is your office."
It was, once again, nicer than my apartment. The walls were painted an eggshell white, with a window covering one wall. While, Louis' office was more warm and chic, this room was modern and sophisticated. It was amazing that they were in the same office building. The individuality of each room amazed me.
There was a glass desk with a black and white patterned chair behind it. There was a creativity board on the left wall and a sleek, leather couch along the right. The room was beautiful and exactly my style.
How the hell was it mine? In now way did an assistant, let alone an intern, deserve this kind of office.
"This is my assistant's office, but you will be using it for the time being," Louis told me, "please, make yourself at home! I will be coming to collect you for a meeting in a half hour, I want you to sit in. It's with one of our biggest investors and clients. It'll be beneficial to meet him."
"Yes, sir," I grinned, walking him to the door. After shutting it behind him, I couldn't help but squeal, my heels girlishly stomping. I turned and faced the desk and window. I was stunned to see such a gorgeous view of the city.
My dreams were really coming true. I couldn't help but be thankful to find such an incredible and happening job right out of school. I had scoured job sites, praying to find something that actually appealed to me. The moment I saw this job I had applied immediately, not even stopping to think. This was all I could hope to do and more.
I set my bag on the desk and took a seat in the chair. My hand clattered against the computer keys, using the log ins Louis had given me. After getting my email and everything set up, I grabbed my cell phone and called my boyfriend, Lucas, not having any other work to do.
"Babe?" his comforting voice answered. I have been dating Luke for two years, after meeting him at an art gallery. It was sort of love at first sight. We'd both been observing the same piece. I'd made a considerably stupid comment and he corrected me, as he was an art major and very passionate about his art.
"Luke!" I squealed, trying to contain my excitement and keep my voice down to a semi-appropriate office level. "Oh my God!"
"Sammy, hey," he said, sounding distracted but happy to hear from me, "how's the new job going?"
"I have a freaking office, Luke," I muttered, continuing to observe my surroundings, "and my boss is so cool! Like he actually wants to know who I am and actually cares! I'll send you pictures of this place, it is seriously beautiful."
"That's great babe, what do you have to do for work?"
And we chatted for a good 15 minutes, me freaking out the entire time and typing on my computer. By the time we hung up, I was expecting Louis anytime.
I gathered my notebook and pen, hoping to take notes. I wanted to seem like I actually knew what was going on, even though I didn't have a clue. This was a whole different world than college.
"Samantha?" his soft, British voice called, opening the door. He peeked his head in, still looking effortlessly perfect.
"Mr. To- Louis, sir," I spoke up, standing up. I followed him out of the office, my heels clacking along. We passed the design rooms. They were filled with fashion forward people designing and editing designs. I was blown away with how in sync everyone looked. I hoped to be doing that one day.
"We have some of the best designers and models in the world working here. It is the perfect place for making connections, really," Louis said, gesturing to one of the rooms. I had to do a double take when I saw Francisco Lachowski. He was being fitted in a suit, probably for a photo shoot or something.
By the time we reached the board room, I was ready to faint. This was all too much to take in.
I opened the door for Louis, holding it open while he slipped in.
"Our guest will be here soon. Could you be a doll and grab the bottle of scotch from across the hall? It's in the other board room," Louis stated, taking a seat. "I don't normally encourage drinking on the job, but with this guy sometimes it's necessary."
I laughed and nodded my head, setting down my notebook on a chair in the corner of the room. I could only assume that that would be where I was to sit, as I wasn't actually part of the meeting but simply observing.
I went across the hall and immediately saw the bottle that Louis had been referring to. I grabbed a tray with the glass, amber colored liquid-filled bottle, and two glasses. When I re-entered the room, I came to realize Louis was no longer alone.
A man sat with his back to me. All I could see of him was a mass of curly, brown hair.
"Ah, Samantha, meet Mr. Harry Styles."