"Thank you, I look forward to seeing you then." I said brightly, hanging up the phone. It was more stressful than I had anticipated calling Joe's secretary. She was polite and we easily scheduled my interview for tomorrow afternoon when my shift at the bakery was over. She said Joe would be pleased that I had called within the day.
Now that I knew I had the interview tomorrow, I decided to pick out my clothes now so that I wouldn't stress myself out in the morning. My wardrobe suddenly seemed so much more intimidating. I pulled it open, absently flicking through my clothes and deciding, after much deliberation, on what would be appropriate to wear.
"This is it." I said to myself quietly, looking at the outfit laid out on my soft grey duvet. In front of me sat some creamy strappy gladiator sandals from ALDO, which I'd paired with some navy pleated front shorts as well as a bright yellow slash next crop top from Zara, and a pale pink Fossil bobble necklace along with my Zara pale pink tote that I'd brought to work today. It was a nice, put together and slightly professional outfit, and I decided it would look nice enough. I set aside the makeup I would wear as well, seeing as I had an hour between work and my interview I was going to keep the makeup the same all day and just change clothes between.
The clock beside my table read that it was nearly seven, so I decided it was time for tea. Living alone in a flat in central London is quite lonely, seeing as I live in a four room flat. One bedroom, one bathroom, a kitchen/dinner area, and a small sitting room. It was nicely decorated, though, the entire scheme surrounding a sophisticated black and white photograph I'd hung in the front room. The walls were a soft grey with white crown molding, the floors dark ebony wood. The couches were sleek and white, with different shades of grey pillows and blankets strewn about. There was a small dark wood coffee table and TV stand, as well as black and white photos of my family and friends hung throughout. The kitchen was bright and white and clean, save for the granite counters and silver appliances. There was a small nook with a four-seater table and four chairs next to a huge window that showed off the impressive city.
The table was white and vintage, as well as the chairs, though they each had different lightly coloured seats and dramatic vintage studs holding the material in place. My bedroom had black wood furniture, a puffy grey duvet, and lots of white pillows, though one wall had a huge canvas painting of Paris in the fall, where I lived until I was nine. It had beautiful shades of reds and oranges, the painting almost coming to life and making the room seem so much more dramatic.
I went to the kitchen and fixed myself some soup, eating it out of a small glass bowl and sipping some hot tea. When I was finished, my insides warm and sleepy, I took a short shower and climbed into bed, flicking the lights off and falling into a restless slumber. Tomorrow was just inches away.
~
"Morning!" I chirped, seeing Joe coming through the front door at exactly ten. He grinned at me and strode over, pulling out his wallet.
"Elizabeth! I'm glad you called so soon, and I can't wait for the interview this afternoon. I also can't wait to get my hands on these cupcakes, but that's a different story." Joe said, his stomach rumbling for effect. I laughed and handed him the white box, Sweet Escape printed in soft green cursive across the top. A small sticked had Joe's name and order printed neatly on the side, and a receipt rested on top.
"Okay, that's your dozen deluxe cupcakes." I smiled. "Decorated by yours truly." I added. Joe looked happy as he lifted the lid, slightly impressed. I'd iced each of the cupcakes with their appropriate flavour, the icing in a thick swirl on top. The red velvet had red gel drizzled on top of the cream cheese frosting, the vanilla custard with- you guessed it- custard spiralled on top, tiny little pearly ball shaped sprinkles on it. The Dutch chocolate ones had black fudge SE symbols on them, and I had to say even I wanted to eat one. I'd really overdone it with the lemon ones, though. There were small puffy cream frosting flowers on top, with a small sliver of lemon resting in the center.
"Impressive, very beautiful. Unfortunately, knowing the boys these will not last long." Joe chuckled sardonically. I laughed and shrugged, scanning his card in the register.
"That's the point! I can assure you they're delicious. Mama Megan's batter is to die for, and Harper is a magician at mixing frosting." I promised him, handing over the credit card.
"Thanks! I've got a meeting to get to, and I'll see you at three." Joe confirmed. I waved him off and he left the shop, the bell tinkling behind him.
The day seemed to creep by, a new customer every five or ten minutes. Harper had to make more tarts, because they were disappearing before my eyes. Finally, I checked my watch and saw that it was nearly two, breathing an audible sigh of relief when Liberty, a sweet girl who'd just moved here from Essex, walked through the door to take her shift. I gave her a hug and my apron, grabbed my bag, and waved a hasty goodbye before sprinting to my car and speeding home.
As soon as I was through the door I downed a glass of milk and a piece of toast, my daily lunch. I brushed my teeth, touched up my hair and makeup, and changed clothes before seeing I needed to get a move on or I would be late. I locked up my flat behind me and rode the lift down from the twelfth floor, climbed in my car and drove off the studio building.
The giant glass doors seemed quite intimidating, honestly, and I cringed when I pushed them open, entering a sleek lobby. I approached the desk and smiled nervously at the woman sitting at a computer, turning to look at me.
"I'm Elizabeth Watson, I'm here for an interview with Joe O'Neill?" I asked hesitantly. The girl nodded with a hint of recognition, picking up the phone and holding a finger up to me.
"Mister O'Neill? Your three o'clock is here to see you." She said in a tight tone. She nodded as he said something back, and then hung up.
"Alright Miss Watson, just take the lift to the fourth floor and it's room four-oh-three on your left. Good luck!" She said brightly, pointing down a hallway. I smiled greatfully and adjusted my top before heading to the lift, jabbing my finger onto the four button. As soon as the doors closed around me, I realised where I was. Oh, God.
