Patrick Bateman's new secretary (MATURE)

CHAPTER ONE: welcome to New York

    New York city, 1981
I stepped off of the airplane with caution. The flight had been long and uneventful, but What mattered was that I was finally here. A girl like me doesn't receive opportunities like this every day. I had dreamt about New York City ever since I was a little girl. Daddy used to tell me stories about the huge skyscrapers, and the mustard-yellow taxis scurrying around like ants below them. I collected my bags, and before I knew it, I had left the relative safety of the airport and took my first steps onto the streets of the big apple.
Pearce and Pearce was one of the most renowned companies in the world.
It was a financial hive full of eager yuppies, handling everything from mergers to investments- and soon, I would be in the middle of it. I picked up my suitcase and approached the nearest taxi, and gave the driver Janet's address.
    Janet was a childhood friend of mine who moved to New York about two years ago. When I told her that I was moving to New York too, She kindly offered me to stay with her whilst I found my feet. As soon as the taxi arrived at Janet's house, the door was flung open with a loud bang. Janet marched confidently down some steps to meet me. She was a vivacious young woman with luscious hair, a deep shade of plum, and striking blue eyes. She was gorgeous. No wonder her face was plastered all over vogue.
    She threw her arms around me and squealed. "Oh my god! It's been ages!" She exclaimed with delight.
She quickly ushered me inside and nodded towards a cracked red leather sofa. Janet's house was airy and open. It was spotted with wall hangings and large, leafy plants which sat happily in ceramic pots on the wooden boarded floor.
"Espresso martini? Or a sex on the beach?!" Janet cackled gleefully.
It was wonderful to see her again. Her energy was magnetic. I told her about the flight and asked her about her modelling career, the house, and the seemingly endless amount of men throwing themselves at her.
"One of them was 50, with a bald spot!" She laughed merrily.
I told her that I was about to start my career at Pearce and Pearce and her smile changed into an open mouth.
"Pearce and Pearce? Shut up!" She gasped.
She told me that some of her retired modelling friends had married men who worked there.
"Cindy, on god!," she exclaimed in her unmistakable accent, "marry one of those men and you'll never have to worry about money again!"
I told her that the job detailed helping Mr. P Bateman organise his day and allot time for meetings, conferences, lunches, and other important events.
"Like a personal assistant, I guess", I explained to Janet.
Janet put down her drink and squealed.
"Patrick Bateman?! oh Cindy, his daddy owns the company!" She said excitedly.
I stopped. I hadn't really given much thought about the position I was going to work - more just the fact that I got offered a position at Pearce and Pearce. Janet topped up my drink excitedly.
"Oh Cindy, you're so lucky! So, what are you going to wear to your first day?!"
She looked deadly serious. She nodded towards my suitcase.
I leant over and unzipped it.
I pulled out a pair of heels and a grey, professional - looking dress. Janet looked at me with disapproval. The dress had gotten awfully creased on the flight over.
Janet sighed.
"So your taste in clothes hasn't changed much I see," she said with a slight smirk.
"Come on!"
She grabbed my arm and pulled me up two long flights of stairs. She push open a heavy wooden door to reveal an empty white room. I stared at her, confused.
She walked towards the back of the room and began to reveal the biggest wardrobe I had ever seen.
"Sometimes I get to take home the clothes from shoots", she winked. "You know, as a thank you for doing what I do".
The wardrobe was bursting with dresses of all colours and patterns. Tops, tanks, bras and shoes displayed as if in a shop window. I gasped in amazement. Janet ran around hurriedly, picking up dresses and shoes and throwing them at me with excitement. I soon stood in the middle of a pile of designer dresses.
Janet stopped. "That one!" She gasped.
She handed me a black dress and a pair of red, glossy heels.
"Oh, and this!" She offered me a patterned, oversized blazer. She looked at me expectantly.
I slipped both legs into the dress and pulled it up to my shoulders. It fit perfectly. I put on the shoes and then placed the blazer on top. I stood in front of the mirror in awe of Janet's handiwork. She dived on top on me.
"Cindy you look incredible!" She exclaimed joyously.
I felt incredible. But why did I feel as if no outfit would ever be good enough to work at Pearce and Pearce? I smiled at Janet.
"Cindy, why don't we have some dinner to celebrate your new job?" She smiled.
I agreed. Janet hailed a cab and we jumped in the back.
"Straight to Dorcia," she smiled.
"Dorcia?" I asked, confused.
"Yeah!" Janet exclaimed gleefully. "It's the place to be Cindy," she said, knowingly. "Usually you have to wait forever to get a reservation, but I know a guy so I can eat there any time I like," she said triumphantly.
I smiled and let the realisation that I was finally living my childhood dreams wash over me. The can soon arrived at Dorcia.
It was spectacular - it oozed decadence, sophistication, and luxury.
It looked more like a palace than a restaurant - It was surrounded by the most expensive cars, emerged from which even more expensive people. The entrance was guarded by two men in red uniforms, ushering guests inside, taking coats, and asking for reservations.
Janet walked confidently up to the entrance. I scurried along behind her.
She slowly acknowledged both of the men and uttered two words-
"It's Janet."
The men hurriedly offered to take her coat and asked where she would like to sit, insisting that drinks would be delivered to the table immediately.
Janet and I found our table and sat down. Across the room was a group of young men in tailored suits. All of there eyes gravitated towards Janet, captured by her irresistibility. All except one.
I looked up from the table to find one man from the group staring not at Janet, but at me. His gaze was breathtaking, and held such power over me that I couldn't do anything else except stare back in disbelief.
"You know who that is, right?" Smirked Janet.
"Who?" I uttered.
"That's Patrick Bateman."

End of chapter one