FALLING FOR MR J

Chapter 6

CHAPTER SIX

Some months later...
"Miss Honey, Mr Beezman will see you now."
An elderly woman calls out while I sit in the waiting room. I'm in what might be my new place of work.

Officer James made sure he took good care of me. He'd made it his mission to find a great apartment and a college for me. It's one that catered to my "art/skill" needs. He also made sure I could protect myself too with self-defence classes. I kinda kicked ass with it too, so much that this new job I have. Well, "potentially" have will be pretty ideal for me. I say "ideal" only because it's at an art dealer-art gallery.

Oh boy, this place is huge. On the main floor, it's got an enormous reception area. The second, third, and fifth floors are the main galleries. The sixth floor is where the cafeteria is, and above those are a shitload of offices. I'm assuming here, but I'm thinking it makes this place run. The thing that stands out the most, though, is their security. Holy crap, they're all over the place. Hell, it's understandable with all the artefacts and priceless paintings. Despite that, they look pretty intimidating. They're all dressed in black suits and with little earpieces fitted in their ears. They kinda remind me of something from men in black minus the shades. Yet the reason my self-defence skills will come in handy is that it has a few troublemakers. I know who'd of thought it? But yeah, it's had a few scum-bags try and rob the place.

After she tells me, my new potential boss will see me now, I stand on shaky legs and follow her orders. She tells me to head towards the building's lifts.

"Press floor ten and tell security you're Mr Beezman's noon appointment. Oh, and here. You'll need this just in case they don't believe you."

She precedes to hand me a card, one that says "Visitor." It also has my name on it. Unfortunately for me, it's not my actual name. No, it has my new name. I kinda like it, but I still reckon they could have done better. I mean, come on; Lacy-fucking-Honey. Seriously, I sound like a freaking stripper.

When the lift doors eventually open, I take in a deep breath before walking inside. I'm so nervous I don't even realise I'm still standing here. Not until the old woman prompts me to go on.

"Sorry, I guess I'm just a little nervous." She smiles and nods her head, telling me it happens all the time.

"But don't worry. Mr Beezman is a nice young chap. He'll look after you just like the rest."

Oh God, what the hell does that even mean? Just like the rest? Just how many secretaries did he have? Unless she's talking about the workers in general you know like all his employees? Jesus, I bloody hope so. If he's had more than a few secretaries, then I'm not holding out for me getting this job. Either his last secretaries weren't efficient enough or he's a twat? Please don't be the latter.

As the lift ascends to the tenth floor, my palm's heat up. Shit, I'm nervous. What if he takes an instant dislike to me? What if he decides I'm no good? I'd be pretty screwed. This is my chance to get in on it in the art world. Oh boy, the things I'd see in this place. No doubt it'll be amazing. Even though I'll be working for him being his gofer. Well, I'd still get to enjoy the gallery. Not only that, but the coffee. Yeah, it's kinda my new addiction. Spirits are far too expensive for me now. So I stick to coffee instead.

The lift comes to a stop and I jump because of it and while the doors open, my heart thuds wildly. It's almost like it's about to leave my chest. Holy crap, why the hell am I feeling so nervous? It's not like I've not had an interview before. I've had quite a few actually, but for some reason, I'm super nervous today. I'm guessing it's because I want this one? Hell especially, if it meant getting that bit closer to working with art? Well, I'm taking it.