Ok, I quickly glance at the matronly receptionist hoping she doesn’t see that I’m about to have a panic attack. I tried taking deep breaths to calm the erratic beating of my heart. It wasn’t working.
Here I am, in the outer office of the city’s most powerful businessman, waiting to see him, for an interview to be his P.A. Who the hell in their right mind would be calm? Maybe a sip of water will help. I reached out to take the glass of ice water offered to me by the receptionist with trembling hand. As soon as I picked it up, the water started to alarmingly make waves and threaten to spill. Horrified of the thought that I might spill the water all over my ill-fitting suit, I hastily place the glass back down on the marble-topped coffee table with a loud clink that had me wincing on the inside. Of course it had to be crystal!
I couldn’t bear sitting on the pristine white sofa while waiting and abruptly stood on wobbly heels. They were my only pair and they looked like they belong to a retirement home for shoes. Feeling the stare of the receptionist, I gave her weak smile before saying, “My legs were cramping.”
Her disapproving stare turned to one of amusement as she smiled kindly back at me before returning to her typing. I looked around the office. It’s vast ceiling and floor-to-wall window on one side was three times the size of my cramped apartment. Not knowing what to do, I walked over to a set of photographs hanging on the wall nearest to me.
Surprisingly, it felt out of place in this room, especially after I spotted a Vaughn painting and I suspect that it’s not a reproduction but an original. The photos were your typical 4-by-6 and all in black and white. They were all photos of two persons, a man with a Chevron moustache and a woman with a wavy centre-parted hair. Their clothes were from the 70s, both wearing bell-bottomed jeans, a loose peasant top on the woman and tight-fitting buttoned down shirt on the man. The woman was breathtakingly beautiful and it was quite obvious in some of these grainy photographs that they were a couple and very much in love.
Before I even thought about it, I asked, “Who are they? They’re beautiful.”
Embarrassed, I turn to the receptionist who gave me a warm smile, “They’re Mr. Griffin’s parents.”
“Oh. I’m sorry.” My cheeks heated up further, I must look like a tomato by now.
I’ve done some research on Griffin industries at the Public Library computers when I was told that I had to get this job and one of the first things I discovered was that both his parents died in a tragic car accident but there were no photos of them. There was also the fact that Alexander Griffin was illegitimate.
With a softened voice the receptionist replied, “Don’t be. You’re the first person who asked about those photos you know. All the others who’ve been in this office either walk past it or suggests that they be take down because they don’t fit in his office.”
I turned away to look at the photos again. “It’s nice that he-“
“Gladys, please send Ms Ray in.”
“Well that’s Mr. Griffin, well do go on dear, his office is at the end of the hallway.”
Feeling suddenly cold, the realisation of who I was going to meet and why I’m doing this has me trembling once more.
I nodded in thanks, afraid to speak before walking into the spacious hallway.
It felt like forever before I finally reached the door, turned the knob and walked in. My side-swept bangs decided to escape and cover my eyes as I stepped in and closed the door behind me. Pushing my auburn hair to the side, I found myself the subject of deep blue eyes that had me frozen on the spot. Damn, they were beautiful eyes and were set in an equally handsome face. I knew he was handsome from the tabloid photos I’ve seen on newsstands but in real life, his presence was overpowering. I continued standing there paralysed and pretty much terrified of this man, very much doubting the success of my task.
