I took her advice seriously. She had been there much longer and knew the ropes. If I knew nothing else about people, it was that they were creatures of habit and that was not necessarily a bad thing. Sandra had been handling Ms. Schultz’s affairs with no assistance for quite some time, so any time-saving tips she had were like gold to me. By the time lunch rolled around, the documents were stacked neatly at each place around the long conference room table, along with the legal pad and three ball-point pens. Satisfied with my work so far, I grabbed my purse from inside my new desk drawer and headed out the door.
There were several places to eat in the lobby of the building I had noticed when I came the first time for my interview that looked appetizing. A Starbucks, of course, was the centerpiece of what appeared to be a small food court. The large, green and white logo poised directly above the cashier’s head to remind those that approached they were buying the best coffee Seattle had to offer. A Subway restaurant was right next to it, the warm smell of freshly baked bread wafting across the lobby made my stomach rumble as I approached. The short, pudgy woman behind the counter pulled on her disposable gloves as she looked at me expectantly. My eyes drifted across the menu before settling on my usual: Tuna on honey nine grain bread. I couldn’t help it, that was the sandwich I preferred at that particular restaurant and I never deviated from it.
I sat alone at a small, circular-shaped table and nibbled at the end of my six-inch sub. Watching as dozens of patrons scurried about the food court procuring their meal, I ate my lunch in silence. I liked to people watch from time to time, it made life interesting. Sometimes, I would imagine that I could hear their conversations from afar and give them a script to what I thought they may be talking about inside my head. They ignored my presence, like most people did, and on the chance that someone noticed me staring, I would pretend I was looking past them and out the large, plate-glass windows behind them.
The food was good and made me feel much better. I finished off the last few bites of my sandwich and washed it down with the rest of the large, unsweetened tea I had purchased to go with my meal. Several wadded-up napkins, a discarded sandwich wrapper and the empty beverage cup were tossed into a nearby trashcan and I placed the tray on top as many others had done. Satisfied and stuffed full to the brim, I rubbed my bloated stomach and headed back toward the elevators. I barely noticed the stuffiness as the car carried me back up to my floor.
Sandra greeted me with a smile when I emerged through the ceiling-to-floor doors into Ms. Schultz’s lobby. Smiling back, I dropped my handbag back into the large drawer on my right and turned my attention toward my computer. I moved the mouse on top of the desk, bringing the screen to life. There were two unread messages in my email and I clicked on them curiously. It was my first day, so I had not expected to receive too many communications until more people knew I was there. The first one was a simple welcome email from the IT Department. They had included instructions on how to make my email more prominently displayed and easier to access. Knowing I was working for the big boss, I guess they figured that I could use as much help as I could get. The second message was tagged urgent and a bright, red flag appeared to the right of the details. Seeing that it was from Regina Schultz, I clicked on the message as quickly as I could.
There had been a mix-up with the documents Sandra had instructed me to copy. Apparently, a last-minute change and that meant I had to get busy replacing those documents. Their meeting was merely an hour away, leaving me very little time to fix the oopsie. I was glad it was not my mistake that created more work for me, but it irritated me still to know that all the work I had done before going to lunch had been thwarted by someone else’s oversight. Nearly sighing out loud, I clicked on the paperclip icon to reveal the attachment to the email. Printing the original, which was nearly thirty pages, I worked my way toward the copier room to re-do what I had already done earlier that day.
The seconds were ticking by at lightning speed as the copier took its sweet time to print each page of the packet before switching to the next packet. Finally, with only twenty minutes to spare, the copies were finished and ready for me to remove from the output tray. Careful not to push the stacks together and mess up the neatly arranged documents, I picked the entire stack up and rushed out the door. My feet carried me quickly across the marble floor and down the long corridor toward the main reception area. As I rounded the corner, I picked up the pace, my vision trained on the floor in a concentrated effort to move swiftly. When I slammed into him, my papers went flying, floating slowly to the floor and landing in a disheveled mess in the middle of the hallway.
I looked up at the figure that stood before me. He was glaring down at me, a scowl on his face that I had disrupted his texting with my presence. As quickly as I could, I started to gather the paperwork back into one pile, knowing that I had the impossible task of fixing the mess once I reached the conference room. Thankfully, whoever created them had page-numbered the packets so it would be easier to figure out which page went where. I cursed myself for not stapling the packets before leaving the copier room.
“Why don’t you look where you’re going!” the young man offered no apology for failing to watch where he was going and running headlong into me. I glared back at him, the heat in my face spreading quickly, no doubt resulting in a bright, red hue. He was extremely attractive, and his figure made it obvious that he worked out constantly to maintain his physique. Dark hair topped his head and a neatly trimmed line of facial hair traced his jawline down and around his chin. Instead of helping me gather my papers, the man simply stepped around me and continued down the hallway without another word.
What a complete asshole! My mind interjected as I busied myself with picking up the mess that had been made of my packets. Not even an apology and it was he who was walking and texting! I huffed to myself as I stood up, carefully balancing the documents in my arms, and continued on my way. Making a mental not to steer clear of whoever he was in the future, I entered the conference room and laid the pile on the table. Frantically, I began to reorganize the pages into neat stacks. Once I was finished, with only a few minutes to spare, I scurried around the table to replace the one already in the stacks at each place with the new document.
As soon as I had finished, the door opened, and people began filing in. Nodding in my direction as they circled the table and found their desired place, two women straightened the backs of their skirts before taking their seat. Close on their heels was a very well-dressed gentleman that wore a three-piece suit tailored to perfection. I recognized him right away as Devon Cole, the Director of Photography. He noticed me looking at him and smiled at me before taking a seat to the left of the head of the table. That place obviously reserved for Ms. Regina Schultz herself.
Murmuring voices filled the space as more people joined the meeting. They talked quietly amongst themselves, glancing nonchalantly in my direction from time to time as they waited for the meeting to begin. Ms. Schultz was running a few minutes behind I had been informed when I came in initially which made me breathe a sigh of relief. That bought me the extra few minutes I needed to clean up the mess that had been made by the inconsiderate man in the hallway who had left me in the middle of a pile of scattered papers as he hurried off on his own mission. I made a mental note to find out who he was later and give him a piece of my mind.
The meeting went off without a hitch, thank God. Ms. Shultz had introduced me to the group as her new intern and informed them all of my many writing talents. I blushed slightly as she spoke and looked at a spot on the table I had been concentrating on to keep my wits about me. The group looked at me curiously as she went on and on about my education, how quickly I had successfully completed one of the more difficult Journalism programs in the area and now Threads, Inc. was fortunate enough to have snatched me up before anyone else did. What they didn’t know was I was sitting in the middle of what I had dreamt about since I was very young and that I would not have dreamed of going anyw
here else.
After my lengthy, and somewhat embarrassing introduction, Ms. Shultz went on with the business at hand. They went through each packet I had prepared for them in advance, many of them scribbling notes either directly onto the pages or onto the legal pad I had been so kind as to provide for them. Smiling inside, as they were obviously quite pleased with my first assignment, I sat back, steno pad in hand and took notes mindlessly as Ms. Shultz addressed the group. When it was over, they stood in unison as Regina took her leave from the room. As she exited, they looked after her until the door closed securely behind her before returning to their previous conversations.
When the last of them had wandered out of the conference room and back to their prospective offices, I set about cleaning up the table and putting things back where I had found them. I was proud of myself and how my first meeting went, and I hummed cheerfully as I made the room appear as if no one had been in there at all. Before I turned off the lights and left the room for the day, I smiled to the empty space. With the exception of the little incident in the hallway, my first real day at Threads had gone exceptionally well and I drifted back to my office on cloud nine to wait out the rest of the afternoon.
Chapter 6
Reighn
I made it up to the fourteenth floor just in time. After the small hiccup in the corridor that cost me several precious seconds, I waltzed through the doors where I was instructed to go just in time to see Salley Chase with her arms waving frantically above her head. Salley rushed toward me when she saw me come through the door, a look of relief washing over her with each step she took. People scurried about the room setting up for the photoshoot with either mounds of equipment or costuming in their arms. On the far wall, a backdrop had been set up and two gentlemen busied themselves with setting up reflective umbrellas to the sides. Ms. Chase grasped my arm gently and ushered me toward a doorway on the opposite side of the room.
Once inside the small room, which was not much bigger than a janitor’s closet I was sure, Salley lowered her gaze and eyed me seriously. I opened my mouth several times to utter a quick excuse but thought better of it and closed it again. My agent gaped at me for several seconds, saying nothing. She had expected me to spew forth a million excuses for running late and was clearly surprised when I did not. Instead I turned and sifted through the garments that had been placed on a rolling clothing rack against the wall to the left of the doorway. Each outfit was numbered. A large card with a subsequent digit had been stuck inside the plastic sleeve on the front of the garment bag. Pulling the one that had the first number in the sequence off the rack, I turned and wordlessly started to disrobe.
Salley was used to my Shenanigans. I was the star of the show and things happened on my time, even if they did have a schedule to adhere to. What she did not know was that some random girl I had a head-on collision with, who my mind vaguely registered looked somewhat average, had thwarted my efforts. Although she was pretty and the glimpse I caught of her legs beneath her pencil skirt told me that she was in great physical shape, I was irritated by the delay she had caused. When I slammed into her unexpectantly in the hallway she had tripped me up, otherwise I would have been nearly on time. I had planned on surprising Salley by being punctual and would have succeeded had it not been for that untimely run-in. Inside my head, I had made a mental note to find out where the girl worked and say something not-so-nice to her boss about her. She would get a talking to simply for being a nuisance to me, of that I was sure. Unfortunately, Salley had heard it all and it would do me no good to give her my excuses. Even if it was the truth that time.
Instead of trying to convince Ms. Chase of the facts, I simply started to disrobe. She drew in a sharp breath and decided it was better to just let it go. Salley went to work helping me by unzipping the garment bag that contained whatever I was to wear for the first segment of the shoot. After I undressed I was left standing in my boxer briefs in the center of the tiny space. Salley took the pants from the hangar and handed them gingerly to me. I slid them on and reached my hand out and waited for the button down. Sliding each arm into the garment and fastening a few buttons on the front, I turned toward the full-length mirror I had noticed propped up against the far wall.
“At least the clothes are actually stylish this time,” I finally broke the silence. Salley breathed an audible sigh of relief. “Remember the last time? I could not believe they expected me to wear a freaking cable-knit sweater and plaid pants. I felt like I was posing for an advertisement in a golf magazine,” I laughed at the notion and Ms. Chase quickly joined me. I had my ideas about what was fashionable, just like everyone did. Fashion was one of those things that was subject to personal taste and I had made it a point to demand only the best. The reflection in the mirror made me smile as I turned in several directions to check the fit. Noting a few things that needed adjusting, I pointed them out to Salley who scribbled them down onto a small pad of paper. When I was finally ready, I turned toward the exit and grasped the doorknob in my hand.
All eyes were on me when I opened the door. My mouth went dry for a brief second and I felt my heart beating in my throat. Once the initial anxiety subsided however, I was ready to take on the world. I strutted out of the makeshift dressing room and toward the area that was clearly set up to do my makeup and hair. I lowered myself onto the high, folding chair that had been set up in front of a mirror with large lightbulbs fixed around the frame. No sooner than I had turned toward my reflection than what seemed like a dozen people transcended upon me. Within a few minutes, my hair and makeup were flawlessly applied, and I was ready to get started.
I stood in front of the lens of the photographer, turning slightly with each flash to change my pose. He encouraged me to let my instincts to take control as I reached up with my hand and rested one steepled finger on my chin for another shot. It was hot under the lights, and the tight-fitting clothing I wore did not help, but I rode it out until he was finished taking pictures in that outfit. I changed quickly into the next and then the next, the photographer taking several dozen shots of me in each one. When I finally dawned the last garment and zipped the jacket into place, I was getting quite tired. The flash was starting to annoy me, and my head began to pound each time.
Toward the end of the photo shoot, a tall, fit blonde joined me wearing next to nothing. It was a welcome distraction and I embraced her presence in the same manner I always did. My intention was to convince my new co-start that I was the cat’s meow and, with any luck, end up taking her in some sexual fashion. We stood in the middle of the staged area, her large, man-made breasts pressed firmly up against my hard pectorals. I bounced them slightly as we stood waiting, eliciting an amused look from the young model. When she smiled up at me, the familiar glimmer in her eyes, I knew I had her.
As soon as we were finished with the task at hand, I was ready to get out of dodge in a hurry. Instead, I stuck around to see where my new conquest would lead. I anticipated that she would do little to resist, as no one ever told me no, and that was good to know. Somewhere from across the room, Salley called her over, at which time I learned her name. Brittney, how typical. I imagined that her mother was a huge fan of Brittney Spears and named her bleach blonde daughter accordingly. It was no matter to me what her name was, but it did make it easier to play the game.
Ms. Chase exchanged words with her for several moments, occasionally glancing over her shoulder in my direction as she spoke. It occurred to me that Salley was busying herself with the task of closing the deal for me, which would definitely make my job much easier. Brittney spared me a look over her shoulder, a sexy smile gracing her full lips, before turning her attention back to whatever my agent was saying. Instead of hanging around, I grabbed a towel off the rack that stood nearby, wiped the sweat from my brow that had formed under the intense glare of the lights and tossed it into the receptacle that waited to receive it. When I was finished, I stalked off in the direction of the dressing area that had been prepared for me.
Not ten minutes after I was safely inside and sitting in the chair they had kindly provided for me, I heard a timid knock at the door. Clearly an afterthought, but at least they had realized I may need to sit down after hours of standing at attention in front of the lens. Smiling to myself knowing full well who was waiting for me on the other side, I glanced in the mirror opposite where I sat and smoothed down a few stray hairs that had managed to displace themselves despite practically an entire tub of gel. I stood up and crossed the small space, clearing my throat loudly before grasping the doorknob and turning.
Brittney greeted me with a smile, her mouth the new focus of my attention. Her lips her plump and full, painted a bright shade of red that complimented her skin tone delightfully. At that moment, all I could think about was getting my hard cock inside her mouth. I returned her gesture and stepped aside, allowing her to enter before closing and locking the door behind her. She sighed softly as I reached out and touched her shoulder, my hand squeezing firmly as I used my other hand to move her golden locks to the side. Motioning for her to move forward and have a seat, she obliged and lowered herself into the chair I had previously occupied.
My hands worked their magic, massaging her tense shoulders and neck with expert care. I had become accustomed to wooing some women to do what I wanted by first offering them a rub down or other comforting gesture. She rolled her head to the side, a soft moan escaping her lips as I continued to knead her muscles. When I felt that she was conditioned properly, I made my move. Leaning forward, I planted a soft kiss on her neck, next to her shoulder that I had been caring for. Brittney responded immediately, rolling her head farther to the side to allow me better access. I smiled at her in the mirror as her eyes drifted up and met mine.
Make it Reighn (A Threads Inc. Saga Book 1) Page 7
