the receptionist [h.s.]

part one: casell

"Hello, this is Jane from Casell. How may I help you?"

I had said that phrase probably more than a hundred times and it came so naturally to me that even when I wasn't at work, I'd pick up the phone and introduce myself that way.

I had gotten the job as a receptionist in my early twenties. Then, I thought that it would just be a job to pass time until I became a successful CEO or world-renown author. But it's been two years and those dreams are slowly slipping out of my grasp.

The workplace is divided into different groups: sales, marketing, accounting and design. I'm the only one in my group so I'm kind of the odd one out. I mean, the people here are friendly enough. Well, most of the people.

Sitting only a few feet away from me is Harry Styles, egotistical and arrogant accountant extrodinare. We didn't have a long history or anything; he just really got on my nerves.

    I watch him toss a pink eraser back and forth in his hands until I've completely zoned out. The ring of the telephone brings me back to my thoughts and I take the call.

"I will connect you right away." I say, once the woman speaks. Moments later, the phone by a sales rep rings and he answers it.

"Hey Jane." speaks Harry and my annoyance flares.

"Yes." I say, my expression blank.

"Tell Eric here about the sale I made that took him three months to get that I made in three minutes."

"I think we know the story, Styles." Eric mumbles.

"No, go on," Harry pushes. "Enlighten us."

"I'd rather not." I say, bringing my eyes back to the computer screen.

"You know, staring at a screen for so long isn't good for your eyes." Harry says.

"It's my job. And last time I checked, you weren't Doctor Oz."

Harry laughs and I roll my eyes. If only he wasn't here, then my job would be so much easier. The door opens and I look up to see Wren Brooks walk through, his dark brown hair messy and his equally dark eyes glowing.

"Hey." He says, approaching my desk. I smile and he gives me a quick kiss. Oh yeah, I forgot to mention: I have a boyfriend. A super cute, polite, British boyfriend of two years.

"I thought you were at work." I say.

"Come on, I couldn't miss your birthday." He says, handing me a cream colored box with a pink ribbon tied around it. I diligently untie the bow and smile at the sight of a red velvet cupcake.

"This is so cute! Thanks." I say. I hear Harry scoff in the background but I ignore it. Classic behavior.

"So I've got to head in but I'll see you tonight, okay? It's going to be great. Bye." he says, giving me another kiss.

"Bye." I say and watch as he leaves.

"How old are you turning today, Janie? Fifty-four?" Harry teases.

"Quit calling me that," I say. "And grow up." I'd always despised the annoying nickname he'd given me, which he'd use when he especially wanted to irk me.

"Happy birthday, Jane." says Eric. "It's gonna be a great party."

Harry raises his eyebrows. "Party?"

"Yeah, we're having a party for Jane. We've been planning it for weeks now. The invites and everything already went out." Eric explains and I try to give him a hint that he should stop talking about it but he didn't notice.

"Really now..." Harry says, staring directly at me.

I look back at Eric and I presume he finally gets the message. "Oh, well I mean it's nothing big. Not that your birthday's not special, Jane--"

"It's cool, Eric. I think he gets it."

"I've got plans, anyway. Whatever." Harry says, and goes back to throwing the darned eraser in the air.