Desolation // l.p.

Chapter I

"Sarah Fletcher, Mr. Payne will see you now." I stand up when I hear my name flow out of the young blondes ruby lips that I envy. I suddenly feel extremely self conscious as I watch numerous flawless women walk by. I stand up, dusting my skirt off and follow the woman. She guides me to a door down the hall, unlike mine, her feet do not falter when she walks in heels. She nods to me and leaves me at the door, I listen as her expensive heels click on the marble floor loudly. I knock on the door, scolding myself for hitting it too hard and being obnoxious. After a moment of no answer I take a deep breath before cautiously turning the silver door handle.

I'm surprised and suck in a breath when I find a young and extremely attractive man standing in the center of the room, adjusting his tie and holding an intense gaze that rests on me. He gives me a subtle smile before he returns to his desk and sits down, leaning back in his chair and watching me expectantly.

" Ms. Fletcher." Mr. Payne says knocking me out of my trance. His hazelnut eyes hold amusement at my dispense

" Um" I clear my throat before continuing,"yes, I'm sorry sir." I apologize and scurry over to sit in the leather chair in front of his slick oversized mahogany desk.

" It's quite alright, may I see your resume?" He says his eyes never leaving mine. I nod and open my bag, my nervous hands sift through the papers in it as I attempt to locate my paper. Him watching my every move isn't helping me as I struggle to find my resume. "Sorry," I apologize sheepishly for making him wait. Relief washes over me as I find my resume and pull it from the file, handing it over to him with a shaky hand. If he didn't know I was nervous before, he definitely does now. I watch him carelessly as his eyes scan over it.

" Well it looks as though you are qualified Ms.Fletcher." He says a ghost of a smile on his lips, I sit up straighter feeling slightly more confident from his appraisal.

"Thank you Mr.Payne." I reply gratefully, a smile threatening to appear on my face. He looks over me, as if he was observing me before he continues.

"It's Sarah, right?" He asks leaning forward, placing his elbows on his desk. I've never enjoyed someone saying my name as much as I did when it came from his lips, only because of his accent, of course. I nod, silently answering. I should try to keep my verbal communication to a minimum since I can't seem to do it right in front of him. "What school did you go to?" He asks and I panic. School history is supposed to be on my resume, did I not put it on?

"Did I forget to put that on my resume? I swear-" I speak quickly, embarrassed by my ignorance.

"No, it's on here... I just want to hear everything from you and not necessarily from a silly piece of paper." He says and places my resume facedown on his desk. I relax a little knowing I didn't prove myself as a complete amateur, but still thrown off by the fact that I find his request a bit peculiar. If he wasn't going to bother reading my transcript then why did I end up giving it to him? Why would he have even asked?

"University of Washington, Seattle Campus." I tell him dropping my eyes to my fingers and pick at my nails. It was an old habit I had managed to drop after high school, I guess it could be returning.

"Did you play any sports?" He questions and I want to laugh. This has to be fake, am I being recorded for some tv show or something?

"I was in the marching band." I shrug knowing it isn't much but it kept me busy.

"So you're interested in music?"

"Not necessarily, I was a color guard member. It kept me busy." I answer and move my eyes to the nameplate on his desk. Liam Payne. I hadn't known his first name coming into this interview.

"Oh so you're a dancer." He says with an expression filled with curiosity. I'm not sure why but the statement made me slightly uncomfortable.

"Not exactly, they aren't really the same thing." I point out knowing color guard has very little to do with flexibility and more to do with dexterity.

"Oh." He mentions and I suddenly hate myself for correcting him. "Do you have any family?" He asks and my eyes return to his flawless and clean shaven face, surprised by his abrupt question.

"What?" I ask making sure I heard him right.

"Family, do you have family?" I didn't know such personal questions were asked for job interviews.

"I have my mother, and a sister who lives in Florida. If that's what you mean." I hesitate answering, knowing how odd it is to tell a stranger this. Possibly even your future employer none-the-less.

"Your father?" He quirks an eyebrow and I let out a nervous laugh.

"A drunk who I haven't seen in fifteen years." I reply honestly, vaguely remembering anything else besides alcohol being my dad's priority. His expression falters for a moment and I realize I may have been a bit too blunt on my answer. I swallow the lump in my throat as I recall my mistake.

"What made you want to pursue publishing?" He changes the subject quickly and I'm relieved by it, he pulls a pen and notepad from a drawer in his desk and looks at me waiting for an answer.

"A love of literature, I guess."

"You guess?" He smirks as he jots something down onto the notepad.

"Well I mean- I know that's why. I just- I don't know why I said 'I guess'. It just sort of came out." I shake my head at the absurdity of my actions. Seriously, what is wrong with me? I never have this much trouble talking to a person.

"Do I make you nervous?" He asks with a hint of humor. His dark eyes stare intently into mine and I have to keep myself from physically losing my breath.

"A little bit, I guess." I say and mentally smack myself. 'I guess'. There it is again.

"I like your honesty." He says slowly and clicks his pen before placing it on his desk. "Clearly you have what it takes to work here." He mentions and I find myself disagreeing. Did he not see the difference between me and the working class barbie dolls out there? It's like putting a mcdonald's cheeseburger next to a fillet mignon.

"Yes, sir. Thank you." I reply still in favor of me getting this job despite my differences from the other employees.

" That's why I want you to be my personal assistant." My insides drop, what?

" I- I don't understand," I stutter a bit before building up the nerve to continue,"I applied to be a publisher not an assistant." I point out confused.

"Ms.Fletcher, this is my only offer," He says coldly and shrugging as if this is nothing important, as if my entire future doesn't depend on me getting this job. I gasp when he gets up from his desk and walks around so he is standing right in front of me. He bends down eye level with me and places his warm hands on my knees. His touch is burning me but I try not to let it show any effect. "So I suggest you take it."