Itty Bitty Stories

It Started Back Up Again When Mr. Porter Died

It Started Back Up Again When Mr. Porter Died

“He’s on floor 14.”

“Thank you.”

I hurry to the elevator, yanking my skirt down again. It keeps riding up because it’s a size too small, but whatever. As long as it’s a black pencil skirt I look presentable. When I get inside, I press the button for floor 14. I look in the mirror that’s attached to the side. Not one hair out of place from my bun, my lipstick is darker than blood, and my heels are already starting to hurt my feet. Perfect day for work.

Last week, I was working for a Mr. Porter. He owned this fancy company and he was on the older side of life. I was his assistant; working day and night, pretty much doing everything for him. He was such a sweet old man, like a second grandfather. He wasn’t going to last much longer, we all knew it. He died of old age, and I was without a job.

But apparently, as soon as I was on the market for a new job, I was asked to work for a different company. Me. Asked personally. Like, the day after Mr. Porter died. I said yes immediately, because there was no other option. I needed a job as soon as possible.

I know I’ll be working for a new guy, probably a really good lawyer or something along those lines. I’ll be answering phone calls, planning meetings, scheduling appointments, stuff like that. It’s what I was doing for Mr. Porter and it’s what I’ll be doing for this new guy.

The elevator dings, so I step out onto the floor. There’s an office towards the back of the floor, and a huge, fancy desk in the corner. Probably mine. I step towards the office and peer down the hallway. There’s more offices down there, but not as big as the one in front of me.

Hesitantly, I step into the biggest office. There’s a guy here, but his black suit back his turned to me. He’s facing a computer, typing away furiously. I clear my throat, trying to attempt a smile. “Hello, I’m Jessica Carter, I’m here for the assistant job?”

I don’t get a response right away. He continues typing away, ignoring me. Finally, after a couple of seconds, he stops and exits out the program. “Right. Your first task will to get me a coffee because it‘s 7 in the friggin morning. Get me a caramel ribbon crunch frappuccino with extra cream, alright, Jess?”

As soon as I register whose voice that is, the guy turns around to show off his wicked smirk. His brown hair is gelled professionally, combed with a nice wave to it. He’s not wearing the leather jacket or the white v-neck that I’ve seen him wear a thousand times before. Instead, a crisp suit takes it’s place. The only thing that’s the same is the old, history-filled smirk.

“No,” I automatically say. I drop the clipboard that the lady gave me in the main office, the one with all the appointments I’m suppose to schedule for today. I flip around, heels clacking fast to get to the door.

“Jessica - ”

My hand is pulled back and his lanky legs find the door before I do. He slams it shut, locking it. That’s not going to do anything, I can still open it. But he doesn’t seem to care as he gets closer to me. I breathe in deeply, trying to calm my self down, but that just makes it worse. The cologne he use to wear in high school drives through my brain like a screwdriver.