Student Secret

Chapter 25 : Caught Up

Some years had passed. You'd matured beyond your university days into a well-rounded woman. Having taken some time out to travel and work, you were finally ready to find your place in the legal world. Find a job, truly start fresh.

On a chilly winter morning, you tugged the collar of your shirt - leaving it open enough to spin the imagination of any prying eyes, but closed enough to hold dignity.
You slid into heels and placed your phone in your pocket.
The only remaining constant of your differing appearance was the necklace resting against the inners of your collarbone. You wore it with fading pride.

Closing your hotel room door and rushing downstairs, you catch the nearest yellow New York taxi and slide into the backseat.
A short journey later and you'd arrived at your destination. Stepping out, you pay the man a generous tip. He winks before driving away.
You check your watch - you're a little early. You take a minute to absorb the building. A multi-story legal giant, with the head offices occupying the penthouse.

You checked your email one final time.
"Yelena Belova. That's who I'm looking for." You spoke aloud.

You found yourself with your back to the mirrored side of the elevator, waiting as you ascended intermittently through floors.
A short ding indicated your arrival on the 98th floor. One floor from the top.
A blonde woman, shorter than you, greeted you as the doors slid open. She shook your hand, her demeanour stern. She had green eyes and intricate eyeliner on, a fitted suit - a dark, forest green. Though you towered above her, there was a tangible confidence that she exuded which made you feel minute.

"Miss Y/L/N?"
You nodded, grinning timidly in her direction.
"You can call me, Y/N. You must be Miss Belova?"
"Call me Yelena."
You nodded once again, following her as she turned on her heels and led you through the offices.
"You're early."
You couldn't read her tone. Was she annoyed?
"I'm sorry. I don't like being late."
"Don't apologise, it's a good thing."
She turned her head momentarily, half smiling your way.

She stopped outside an office at the complete opposing end of the building that itself took up most of the floor.
"She'll be with you in just a moment."
As Yelena turned to walk away, you instinctively grabbed her arm to stop her.
She turned, staring at your hand on her wrist. You hadn't noticed the inappropriate gesture yet as you had other questions plaguing your mind.
"Sorry, who? From the e-mail I'd assumed you'd be interviewing me."
Yelena removed her hand from your grasp and ran it up the outers of your arm.
"No. She likes to keep herself somewhat anonymous to possible candidates."
You stared at her blankly, unsure of how you'd take that information.
"Don't be scared, she won't bite. Maybe I'll see you after?"
She pulled your chin down with her index finger, so that your eye level would somehow align with hers.
You nodded, plastering a familiar fake grin on your face.

You were then stood alone outside the door of this office, leant against the glass. It was mirrored, but you were sure it was one sided. Therefore, whoever was inside could see your slouch. You weren't particularly bothered.

The door cracked open a little and you shot up from your position, running your hands down the front of your shirt to straighten it out.
The corridor was empty bar you and the unexpected figure.
As soon as you lifted your head, your heart ached - the painful hole still alive in your chest stretched a little more.
Those same eyes and the reddened hair that seemed shorter than before.

She folded her arms at the sight of you, pursing her lips together after drawing in a prolonged breath.
"Y/N..."
You hadn't heard your name slip past her lips in what felt like a lifetime. She said it quietly, as if still trying to keep you a secret.
She returned to her office as you followed, taking the seat before her desk - still not uttering a word.
She inhaled your appearance, her eyes running the length of you as you crossed your legs and stared up at her from your seat.
"You're grown." she spoke softly, adjusting some papers on her desk.
You nodded, still unsure what to make of the situation.

Just as you'd accepted an existence moving beyond her, there she is. Right in front of you.
"Did you know?" you spoke up at her.
"Hm?"
"Did you know it was me who applied for this job?"
She nodded, finally taking her seat and folding her arms in her lap. She was ageing like a bottle of fine, expensive wine. She suited the authority and wore the status as if it were her own skin.

"Shall we begin the interview?"
She bundled some sheets into her hand as you stood up swiftly, turning to leave.
"You know this is wrong."
She rushed after you as you approached the door. Her hand gripped yours as you twisted the handle to the door. She closed it shut with her foot and placed herself in the space between your body and the exit.
"Stay and do the interview...please."

She leant forward a little, touching her forehead to your shoulder ever so slightly. Your body magnified into her touch, your hand twitching beneath her skin as you ached to run your fingers through her hair - the same way you'd used to.

Returning to your seat, she ran her hand the length of your shoulders - along your back - before slowly returning to her own.
"So, Y/N." she cleared her throat as you stared her down - your gaze clearly rendering her uncomfortable.
"What about this position at Belova PC interested you?"
You took a moment to compose your response.
"Before I answer, may I ask something?, Miss...Mrs?,"
Her face grew sour. The second option clearly the disgusting opt.
"Mrs...Romanoff. Why is this firm under Belova's name when I know fine well you own it."
She drew her bottom lip between her teeth as her eyes ate you up.
"I can't have the past catching up to me."
You laughed a little, leaning back into your chair and unfolding your legs - watching her expression falter as they fell open ever so slightly.

"Yet here I am, all caught up with you."