Million Dollar Devil

2.

"Fuck," I yell, putting my curler to the side and quickly sticking my burnt finger under running cold water.

The nerves are getting to me this morning. My heart has felt like it was constantly racing since I had gotten the email. But it wasn't the type of racing I felt before a shift at Lilacs, this was different. It was hopeful nerves, the good kind.

I take in my appearance. My brown curls sit almost perfectly in place, I give myself a mental pat on the back. My black fitted slacks hugs me just enough to remain appropriate, and my cream colored silky shirt is just elegant enough without being over the top.

Subconsciously I find myself practicing my smile in the mirror. Too big. Too fake. Don't scrunch your eyes. There, that's just right. Taking in my final appearance in the mirror, a wave of satisfaction washes over me. I like this me, I like this me a whole lot more than the one I saw looking back at me last night. I practice my perfectly staged smile before grabbing my keys and beginning to head into the city.

AKMO Inc. was a hedge fund, and that's just about all I can tell you. I wish I could say I understood what the hell I was reading when I googled it last night, but words like "exchange traded funds" were a little far over my high school educated head. What I can tell you is that the office is located on the top of a stunning high rise with a 360 degree panoramic view of NYC. A view I could definitely get used to.

I take it all in as I sit in the waiting room. Perfectly stiff black leather seats and copies of Investment Today Magazine characterized the sterile corporate environment. But nothing screamed "we are rich" the way the fridge of Voss water placed in the corner does. The seemly endless windows don't have a single smudge, and even the leaves of the plants looked as though they were in their perfect position. Not a single thing out of place, except me.

The perfectly manicured receptionist paid little to no attention to me during our short interaction. I don't mean to incite the classic trope of the average girl in the waiting room of a fashion forward luxury office, but I truly do stick out like a sore thumb. My devil Wears Prada moment I guess.

"Lillian," a man holding a sheet of paper appears in the doorway. I recognize him as Kyle Jennings, who I had been in contact with over the last week. He is handsome, tall and mildly intimidating. He studies my resume once more before scanning the room.

"Right, here! That's me," I say as I gather my purse off the floor. Standing up in the most rushed and ungraceful fashion, I brush my pants off with my hands for absolutely no reason other than it felt right at the moment. I give Kyle a shy smile and follow behind him as he gestures towards a hallway.

"Lillian, nice to meet you. I appreciate you making the time," he smiles politely as we enter a very plain white room with a large glass desk.

"No, thank you! I appreciate the opportunity. By the way, this location is just incredible," I say in awe.

"Yeah, I can't say I ever get tired of the view," he takes a sip of water before scanning over my resume once more, "So I see here you've done some administrative assistant temp jobs. We don't have to go deep into your job history as I have it right here, but I would love to know what you think makes you a good for for an executive assistant position."

"As you mentioned before, I have a lot of prior experience in assistant positions. I am extremely organized and my time management is one of my best skills. I definitely think my work ethic paired with my eagerness to learn make me a strong candidate for a role such as this." I take a deep breath realizing I practically forgot to breath as words spilled out of my mouth faster then anyone could possibly comprehend.

"I agree that those skills are definitely necessary for this position," he smiles politely, "Whoever I hire will actually be serving as the assistant to the CEO of AKMO, clearly that is a large role and therefore it will be incredible demanding at times. I just want to let you know, before we move forward, that this position often requires unexpected hours. Essentially you would be on call. Business moves very fast and we need to work quickly and often with short notice." he studies me intently, "Is that something you are comfortable with?"

Without thinking, "Yes, of course," slips out of my mouth.

"Great, that's good to hear," he nods affirmatively. He carried on with some rather general questions about possible scheduling and some hypotheticals. I felt well spoken, and I hoped he felt the same about me.

While I consider myself good at reading people, Kyle Jennings was apparently written in a different language. I scan his expressions but can never place a finger on what might have been going though his head. Did he like me? Did he think I was dumb? Possibly. He was impossible to read.

"Lillian, it was fantastic to meet you. I really appreciate you taking the time to chat with me, and for your open and intelligent answers. We are conducting a few more interviews today and will get back to our candidates by tomorrow night," his hand shoots out for a shake. I do my best to meet his solid grip.

"Great, I look forward to hearing from you," I say confidently before turning on my heels and heading back towards the elevator.

I felt good, I really did. I wanted this job, not just for the money but for my own well-being. I need to know that I'm capable of more, and in order to know that I needed proof.

Now all I had to do was wait another anxiety filled day and a half. The clock is ticking.

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AUTHORS NOTE:
Hello!  Thank you so much for choosing to give my story a read. If you like it, it would mean the world if you click on that star button!

Your comments and votes really do make my day and encourage me to continue this story! I'm so thankful that you've continued to stick with it. Writing this story is a dream of mine, and I am so excited to share it with you all!

Long live boss-assistant love story tropes!

All my love,
Alexandra