CHAPTER ONE
“Miss Fontaine?”
I glance up at the intimidatingly stunning receptionist hovering a few feet away and raise my hand neurotically, my distressed nerves getting the best of me.
Why are you raising your hand like you’re in middle school?
I immediately drop it like lightning into my lap, glancing fleetingly to the scattered individuals waiting in the enormous lobby as I have been. “That’s me.”
She smiles politely, showcasing a flawless set of pearly white teeth. “Right this way.”
I stand and proceed to follow her down the long white hallway. I look around in awe at the innovative architecture of the building: the immaculate marble floors, the high-end sculptures that resemble nothing of consequence, the pungent smell of genuine leather furniture circulating in the air.
Everything is so clean. This place practically screams new money. My throat is already tight from nervousness. I don’t think I’ve ever stepped into a business this arresting, this elevated.
Another stunning raven-haired woman dressed in all black is sitting behind a sleek desk of the same color, typing away on her computer. She notices me approaching and another Stepford smile blinds me.
Okay, nowI’m uncomfortable.
I don’t fit in here at all. These girls are like supermodels. Were they picked up at a runway show or something? I take in the semi-casual outfit I stupidly picked for this momentous occasion with distaste. It’s a light gray dress, but I’m starting to think flats were maybe not the best choice. The woman’s Louboutins clink against the shiny marble floor and I groan inwardly.
How does she afford Louboutins?
They must be paid really well here. The thought comforts me for a fleeting moment until she stops at a lofty doorway.
“Head right in, Miss Fontaine. She is expecting you.”
“Thank you.” I turn the brass doorknob with shaky fingers and flash a smile at the elderly woman perched behind another black desk, just like the one in the lobby. She is sporting a navy blue pantsuit and looks impeccably groomed, her silver hair smoothed back into a tight bun, not a stray strand out of place. She regards me cordially, finding me fidgeting at the threshold of the room.
“Come in. Take a seat.” She gestures to the plush leather seat in front of her. “No need to be shy.”
She continues typing as I sit, patting down my ironed dress. The room is bright and beautiful, the New York skyline in the window taking up a whole wall behind her. I can already imagine they pay their decorator a fortune.
“That’s a gorgeous orchid,” I observe conversationally, checking out the violet flower on her desk.
“They are my favorite,” she states. “I’m sorry I’m being so rude. I’m almost finished. I have to get this to Mr. Scott within the hour.”
“I understand. Take your time, Mrs. Lindley.”
“Doris is fine. I’m extremely informal, something you won’t see often from Mr. Scott, just an FYI, if you get the job.”
She taps a few more minutes before she sighs and turns to me. “Finished and sent. Now, Darcy…may I call you Darcy?”
“Of course.”
She gathers some papers, and by the look of them, I believe they are my information and resume. “Adam has said many great things about you and this resumeisimpressive, even given your lack of experience in this type of work. I see you’ve taken many computer classes and trust me, you will need that for this job. Mr. Scott is a very busy man and will rely on you to be able to help him fast and efficiently. Is that something you think you can do?”
“Yes. Absolutely.”
She nods decisively and looks down at the papers again. I twist my fingers nervously in my lap. I need this job. I need to be able to pay my rent this month. Everything rests on this.
You can’t blow it.
“There’s no need to be nervous, Miss Fontaine. This job is basically yours. I just have a couple of questions to ask and we’ll be done.”
Holy shit!Did she just say I got the job?
***
