Amidst Silver and Rust

02 | Attitude

The remainder of the day goes by without a hindrance. Clients come and go as I sit at my desk attempting to perfect the following week's itinerary and occasionally fetch documents for Mason. Our first meeting together is scheduled to take place with a potential client at 11 a.m. on Monday and I can already feel an all too familiar ache forming between my shoulder blades.

My phone rings, pulling me from my work and I immediately press down on the receiver when I see Mason's extension flashing on the screen.

"Yes Mr. Warfield?"

"I'm stepping out. Please have my car ready."

"Right away, sir."

I peer over at Roy who immediately calls the first floor to have Mason's car brought out. He seems incredibly pleased with himself once he takes care of the task and seconds later Mason emerges from his office.

"Walk with me Ms. Kepner. There are things we need to discuss."

I don't bother looking up from my desk. "I thought you didn't find my clothing seemly enough to be seen in public with."

A string of curse words arises in my brain and I turn to see his jaw clenched before instructing me to gather my things and follow him out.

We make our way toward the elevator and he gently presses his hand on the small of my back inviting me to step in once the doors open. His index finger presses down on the button for the lobby and an uneasy feeling spreads throughout my body but I ignore it, unsure of what to make of it.

"If you're going to fire me, you might as well do it now," I say turning to face him as I clutch my coat in front of me. "I'm not equipped for this."

He remains quiet for at least six floors with his hands in his pockets before addressing me.

"My grandfather warned me about you when he filled me in on the company's personnel. He also said that you were the best assistant he ever had under his employment and that I'd be a fool to get rid of you simply because you have a minor problem with authority. Do not make me regret keeping you on as my assistant, Ms. Kepner. You may have properly fulfilled your duties to my grandfather but you have yet to efficaciously fulfill mine."

I bite down on the inside of my cheek in order to keep myself from saying something I might regret as the elevator whirrs. I take notice of the smell of his cologne, it is incredibly inviting simply because I have never smelled anything like it and somehow it instigates images in my brain of cold bark laced with notes of menthol and tobacco.

"I'll do better, Mr. Warfield," I utter simply because of his grandfather's conviction in my ability to do the job.

Mason presses the emergency button causing the elevator to come to an abrupt halt and I instinctively reach for the metal, bar handle along the rear wall.

"For fuck's same Ms. Kepner I prefer Mason. How many times must I repeat myself?"

I form my hands into fists beneath the fabric of my coat. "What difference does it make what I call you? I'm just trying to do my job."

He chuckles and I narrow my eyes at him.

"Does the job include spitting out snide remarks and having a piss-poor attitude? If it does, remind me to have you make some adjustments to the job description."

He presses the emergency button once more and we begin moving again. I'm fully aware of the fact that I'm acting out of line but I am simply too proud, a personal trait that I have yet to attempt to obliterate.