Mr. Arrogant

Chapter Three

Xenon INC

"Failure is a feeling long before it becomes an actual result. It's a vulnerability that breeds with self-doubt and then is escalated, often deliberately, by fear...." Michelle Obama's deep voice flows through my room, making her words sink into my foggy brain.

Every morning, I play an inspirational audiobook to get my brain cleared up and to motivate me for the day. Talking about failure motivates me to succeed and prove people wrong.

Who am I kidding! I just need some inspiration for my first official day at work. Inspiration of seeking the end goal and not ripping people's heads off.

Staring at the black pants suit, I try to gather my thoughts. Yes, the company is basically dominated by men. A lot of guys won't take my pitches seriously because I'm a girl. Everyone is going to push me down. But I need to stay strong. I need to push down those assholes that dare to threaten me.

Satisfied with my little pep talk, I go through my daily routine.

First step, taking a hot shower. I love hot showers, especially at 6 am. The water slides down my skin, warming up and waking me. My tense muscles slowly unlock and relax.

Second step, lotioning. I moisturize my smooth tanned legs with my favorite lotion. The one that smells like the ocean breeze. The one that reminds me of home.

Then I wing the rest, depending on how much time I have. I either choose between makeup or breakfast. Usually food wins. But because today is a special day, I decided to look at the implied status of the company.

The last step of my routine is getting dressed. The black pants suit stands out on my crocheted pale yellow bedding. It commands power and attention.

Finally fully dressed, I turn to my full length mirror. A confident powerful woman gazes back at me. Gray eyes framed by a thin line of black, makes the color pop out even more. Her lips are painted a pretty pink, highlighting the exotic bone structure of her face. A silky white dress shirt clings to her curves, hinting at the lush figure underneath the clothing. A pinstripe blazer and pants, gives off the aura of a woman with power, a woman that takes charge. And her beige strappy heels, touch on the childish femininity beneath all the power.

Damn, the woman staring back at me, looks like a businesswoman. A smile spreads across my face, the feeling of success rushes through my body.

Glancing at the clock, I grab my glasses and purse. With success pumping through my veins, I walk out of my tiny NYC studio apartment with confidence.

"Looking good, Ms. Hamiliton." Mr. Matin, the complex manager, calls out. The entrance of my apartment complex is busy with people hustling to get to work and starting the day.

"Thanks Sam!" He looks at me with a knowing smile. Samuel Martin is a 62 year old with a loving smile. Anyone can't help but smile back at his goofy greetings.

"Big day, right? Don't worry darling, you're going to be great!" Sam looks at me with joy. He knows how much this job means to me. It basically was my goal for the last five years, the untouchable goal but I accomplished it.

I grin at him, a grin that says more than words could, I walk out of the air conditioned building into the morning atmosphere of New York City. Traffic already bustles along the road. People honk and curse at one another as they cut each other off. Bright yellow taxis line up along the curb, waiting for someone to claim them.

People walk back and forth on the sidewalk. Men in suits and a briefcase in their hands. Women dressed in fitness clothes, getting an early workout before facing the day. Other people are looking half dead and chugging coffee to get caffeinated. And the majority of people look stressed about getting to work.