Chapter Three
Celia Jones has meekly red hair with strands of blonde. She has hazel eyes that remind me too much of hazelnut cookies, my favorite kind of cookie besides cinnamon. She wears a black skirt with a bright red satin blouse that, fortunately, does not show her cleavage. Her black shoes click as she makes her way to the front desk where I am located. A black scarf is wrapped around her neck.
She wears a smile on her face as she stops in front of me.
“Hi! I’m Celia Jones. I’m a new employee.”
Oh God help me.
Her voice was very much preppy, with the high pitch voice and the happy tone. She was definitely a cheerleader in high school. Actually, she looked like she just came out of high school. Oh, she was probably going to kill me before the first ten minutes of the tour.
I don’t even bother putting on a smile. “Hello. I’m Sara Hart. I’ll be giving you a tour of the place.” Celia’s smile does not once falter. I shake her hand against my will; giving this damn tour is against my will.
“Nice to meet you,” she says. She is a very nice girl, but niceness won’t get you far in this business.
“Let’s get started, shall we?” I don’t wait for her reply; I walk passed her and open the doors. I make sure she is following, and she is. I press the elevator button and the doors open up. We walk in. I press the button for floor 2.
“We will start on floor 2 and go all the way up.”
She still has that smile. “What about floor 1?”
Seriously? “That’s the main floor, where you enter and exit the building. You were just down there.”
I see everything flicker in place in her mind. “Oh yes. Sorry.”
Dumb, dumb, dumb…
“That’s fine,” I say, letting out a loud sigh. “As you already know, our floor consists of the writing, ideas, stories, etc etc. Your job will be to come up with ideas and post them back to—”
“Actually, Mr. Rye hired me to be a journalist.” Her voice sounds very cocky, as if she knows what my job is and that she is happy to be higher than me.
Why the hell did Tristan hire her as a journalist when he knows I’ve been wanting that job opening? Oh, right. I don’t bow down to his every need, like Quinn. I don’t treat him like he is the King.
God dammit. I’m going to kill him one day.
My jaw clenches. “Did he now?” She nods. The elevator stops at floor 7 and one man stands there. Once he sees me and my glare, he waves his hand and says, “I’ll catch the next one.” The doors close. Smart move.
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Under His Spell
RomanceFour years ago, Amelia fell in love with Garrett, the first person to ever steal her heart. But he suddenly disappeared without leaving her a note or anything; she thinks it’s because she told her that she loved him that morning. So since that day...
