Hold The Door, Please | ONC 2022

7. Floor: 55

Haylie

I can't believe I was standing only a couple feet away from Kayla Maywin. For some reason, part of me thought she probably had her own private elevator.

While I could sense the uncomfortable tension coming off of everyone else in the elevator, Will seemed oddly friendly with her. I'm almost desperate to figure out his identity, but now is not the time to play detective.

After the three of them have left, people begin trailing back into the elevator. I notice Will standing to the side, politely waiting for everyone else to enter first. Strategically slowing down my pace, I time it so that I'll be the last one to enter.

I quickly slip in at the end, just as the doors begin to slide shut.

Unfortunately, in my effort to rush, my heel gets caught in the gap between the elevator and the floor. Everything starts to move in slow motion as I manage to avoid rolling my ankle, but I slip and am sent tumbling forwards. Despite bracing myself, a quiet oof escapes my lungs as I hit what feels like a solid brick wall.

The brick wall turns out to be a chest made up of hard muscles. Before the force of the impact against Will's chest can send me stumbling backwards and landing on my butt, a strong arm quickly reaches out to steady me. 

I bite my lip as my eyes warily follow the length of the arm up to the face of none other than Will. My heart pounds against my ribcage as I feel my burning face turning redder than a tomato. He gives me a slight smirk when our eyes meet and I freeze for a moment. His eyes are a rich dark brown, darker than any I've seen before. They're inexplicably intriguing, as if there's something hidden behind them.

Reality suddenly hits me like a bus when I register the fact that I'm still staring. "S-sorry," I whisper awkwardly, straightening myself back up and stepping to the side of him. My heart is pounding so loudly in my ears that I can't even tell if he responded.

On the bright side, my plan worked – I'm standing next to Will.

On the not-so-bright side, my plan turns out not to be the greatest plan after all, when the realization hits me – I have no idea what to say. It's frustratingly out of character for me, but I'm apparently incapable of doing anything about it right now. I end up standing there in silence as my scattered and flustered brain tries to regather my thoughts.

As I turn to peek at him, I realize he's already looking at me. Will gives me a sly smirk and a slight raise of an eyebrow when he catches me looking.

Mortified, I immediately turn away to hide my face and pretend to dig through my bag to look for something. My cheeks burn, and I'm probably dissolving my makeup away again. Just as I've accepted the fact that I have no choice but to do nothing and sit in my embarrassment, I spot my resume. I figure I might as well actually take it out. It wouldn't hurt to review it to prepare my talking points for the interview. At the bottom is a neon yellow post-it note with a summary.

Head of human resources - 3 years.

Accounting intern - 6 months.

Bookkeeping intern - 4 months.

What a waste of time the last three years have been. Hell, I've wasted half of my twenties with Randall. I've endured being nothing but his scapegoat this whole time. He'd parrot the line, "Sorry, take it up with HR," over and over again – as if I had anything to do with his idiotic decisions.

Even so, part of me still feels guilty, having lied to Randall about today, after all. He is technically my boss, and I owe it to him to be honest – despite how much of a pain in the ass he is.