Chapter Four
Emily gripped her portfolio tightly in her hands as she walked inside the building that housed Alec’s offices. The building was sixty stories tall, and his offices took up ten floors. She had changed her outfit four times before she had left. Emily was sure that Sareh would have told her she looked straight from Amish country again, but she wanted to make sure she felt comfortable during the interview.
The main floor of the building was larger and more luxurious than any apartment Emily had ever seen before. It was sinking in now, against the backdrop of where Alec worked, how massively rich he was. Sure, he might go to clubs where normal people went, and even buy coffee from the tiny store Emily worked at, but Emily needed to remember he was billionaire status.
She took a deep breath and walked across the lobby. There was a fountain nearby, shooting up jets of water that changed color. People with phones either plastered to the sides of their heads or glued to their hands walked by, clearly on missions. All she saw around her were designer labels. The receptionist behind the marble desk looked supremely busy, and Emily felt bad even speaking for her.
“I have an interview with Alec Richardson-“
“He has his own receptionist on floor fifty.” The woman didn’t look up and kept typing away.
Emily slunk away from the desk, feeling silly. Her palms were sweating as she got into the elevator and clicked the button. A woman was in the corner of the elevator, lecturing someone loudly on some mistake they’d made. The woman got out on floor twenty and the rest of the ride was blissfully empty.
The doors slid open and Emily stepped out into a waiting room. The words RICHARDSON ESTATES were on the bottom of the granite desk in gold lettering. There was a glass table with chairs to wait in, and a flat screen TV showed the news. It was nicer than her apartment. Emily walked up to the desk, where a thin Hispanic lady looked up at her.
“Hi. I’m Emily Camp. I have an interview at 10 a.m. with Mr. Richardson.”
The woman’s eyes darted down to her outfit briefly, as if to say: No you don’t, honey. Instead, she clicked on the computer a few times.
“ID please.”
“Oh! Sure.”
Emily fumbled through her purse for a minute before handing the woman her ID. The woman checked it and handed it back to her.
“You can have a seat over there. You’re early.”
Tucking a string of brown hair behind her ear, Emily sat gingerly down in one of the seats that faced the TV. She wondered if the lady had only checked her ID because she didn’t look like anyone Alec normally brought in, or if she did that to everyone. She caught herself rubbing her palms on her dress and made herself stop. Her throat felt parched. The TV seemed to blend together in front of her eyes as she debated how she was going to handle this interview. Sure, Emily loved to write, but why would Alec take her on for a men’s magazine?
Ten minutes past when the interview was supposed to start, the woman called her name. Emily leapt up out of the chair.
“We’re going to go to floor sixty. I’ll take you up. You need a key card to get to the floor.”
She nodded meekly and trailed after her into the elevator. The woman scanned a key card and the elevator took them up to floor sixty. The doors slid open and Emily stepped out.
This floor was different from the open and well-lit main floor. The windows were mostly shuttered, letting dim morning light in. The floors had been replaced with hardwood, and a long, dark red carpet with butterflies on it led to the big oak desk the receptionist was sitting behind. She gave a little wave to the woman behind Emily, who was already stepping back inside the elevator.
The woman got up and rushed over, “Hi! I’m Brandy,” She shook Emily’s hand, “I’m Alec’s personal assistant. Did you find the place okay?”
“Yes. Thank you.”
“You look nervous, dear, you okay?”
Brandy’s face was kind. She was an older woman with a forehead that wasn’t moving, probably due to the Botox in her face. Her dress looked like something from a 50’s magazine, but she had thrown it together with modern accessories. It was cute and something Emily would have worn if she’d had any idea what the hell she was doing with clothes.
“Some water would be nice. Just a sip. Before I go in.”
Brandy patted her shoulder and went over to a water cooler by her desk, and came back with a cup. Emily drank it all quickly.
“You’re cute as pie,” Brandy said. “What are you interviewing for?”
“I’m trying to get a position on the men’s magazine.”
“Oh! I know he’s had a hard time finding writers. Good luck.”
Emily mumbled a thanks and steeled herself to step inside his office. Brandy knocked twice and then opened the door, letting Emily step in before her. She almost stopped herself from walking in. The office was gorgeous. The desk was huge and there was a sitting area to one side. The windows were large and let in the morning sun, which slanted on the desk, lighting it up. Emily could hear a TV from somewhere, and spotted a halfway-shut door on the right side.
Alec looked up from his computer and smiled over the rim of his glasses. Emily couldn’t help but find it cute, and told herself to stop.
“Mr. Richardson, here is Emily for her interview.”
“Thank you.”
Brandy nodded and, as she turned around, she gave a playful wink to Emily, shutting the door behind her.
“Please, have a seat.”
Emily nodded and sat down stiffly in a plush chair across his desk. She felt as if she was at the principal’s office and was going to get into trouble. Alec’s face was kind, though, which helped lessen her worry.
“How are you?”
“Good. How are you?” Her voice was raspy again, and Emily loathed herself at that moment.
“Get home safely last night?” He sounded way older than twenty-four.
“Yes, sir.”
“So formal?” His eyebrows shot up, “You didn’t seem to be that formal last night.”
“I…uhm, well, you know, it was a club. Different atmosphere and all.”
He looked at her again and she could feel her palms begin to sweat and her heart race. Was she nervous or was it because he was so handsome and was looking at her?
“You brought your portfolio?”
Emily nodded and slid it onto the desk. Alec began to look through it, his eyes scanning some of her pieces, while others he just flipped through.
“I’ve never seen you with glasses before.” Emily blurted out.
Alec glanced up at her, “I need them just for reading.”
Emily fell silent again, feeling silly. She wasn’t sure why she was this nervous. She had always felt confident in her writing abilities. But having him look at her work and look at her seemed to twist her stomach into knots.
Finally, after easily twenty minutes, he closed the portfolio. “You have some strong pieces in here.”
Some? She thought to herself but didn’t speak.
Alec kept going, “Others need some work. They lack world experience. Sheltered views, I would say.”
Any jitters that Emily had been feeling over Alec were suddenly slammed from her brain as she heard his criticism.
“Excuse me?”
He shrugged and leaned back in his chair, “You said you just moved to the city, right? It shows, in your writing.”
“Cities aren’t the only place in the world, though. Are you saying everyone who lives outside of a city is sheltered?”
“I’m merely saying that some of your writing shows you haven’t experienced much.”
Emily stood up suddenly. “I’m fine when someone attacks my writing. But at this point, you’re attacking me, directly, about how I live my life, and my upbringing.”
“That seems a little extreme, doesn’t it?”
“No. You just made a sweeping generalization about people who don�
�t live in cities, and frankly –“
“You’re hired.”
“I – wait. What?”
Alec had a small smirk on his face now, “I said you’re hired. For an internship, Emily, I can’t give you more than that. You’ll have to work your way up to a paying job so you might want to keep your coffee shop job.”
“I don’t understand. You said my work was…”
“And it’s true. It seems sheltered. But I don’t think it’s because you just moved to the city. I only said that to get a rise out of you. I liked the woman I saw last night: she was confident and knew what she wanted. Not this quiet, meek thing sitting in front of me.”
Emily’s mind flicked back to them pressed nearly against each other in the club, his words brushing against her neck, sending shivers along her back. She tried to push it out of her head.
“I…thank you, sir.” She mumbled, feeling abashed now at her outburst.
“You start in two days. Nine a.m. Report to floor fifty-six. I’m there often, overseeing the first issue.”
Emily nodded as Alec handed her back her portfolio, “Thank you so much.”
Their eyes locked for a moment and Emily felt that warmth began to spread from her toes to her head. She tried to ignore it. Alec held out his hand.
“Welcome to the team.”
She shook his hand and the touch was electric. Her skin felt briefly as if it was alight with flame. Did he feel it, too? His face hadn’t changed. Emily pulled her hand away, self-conscious of the fact that it could be sweaty, and left his office, clutching her portfolio.
Once Emily was safely back in the main lobby, she was able to let out the breath she felt she had been holding since she had stepped inside. Not a full job then, just an internship. But better than nothing. She would prove herself at this magazine. She’d write pieces that didn’t show how sheltered she was.
“Oh, look who it is.”
Emily looked to her left and saw Ayumi. She was dressed in a tailored suit, her hair bouncing in curls that looked as if they had taken hours to get just right. Her makeup was still bright and her almond eyes were looking at Emily as if she had just landed a prize.
“Oh, hi! Um, Ayumi, right?”
She slinked over to Emily, “Mind telling me about your roommate?”
“Excuse me? Sareh?”
“Yes, that’s right. Is she looking for a publicist?”
“What? No? I think she isn’t.”
“Listen, here’s my card. Be a pal and give it to her, won’t you?”
Ayumi slid a glossy card into Emily’s hand before walking away towards the elevators. She looked down at it. All it had was Ayumi’s name and a number, with a small logo of a horse or something underneath it. Weird, Emily thought, slipping the card in her purse and heading for the exit.
The Billionaire's Intern, Book One: Life in a New City Page 5
