I pulled down my pencil skirt which had begun to ride up in the front, and inhaled a sharp breath. I held the manilla folders tightly in my hands as I stepped onto the elevator, in complete terror of how the day was going to pan out.
It was my first day working as a secretary and hoped that I wouldn't make a mess of the opportunity like I always seemed to do.
I looked in the reflection of the brass metal that surrounded me, and saw a wide-eyed mess of a person staring back at me. I sighed, and pressed the floor button, tapping my short heel on the floor beneath me. There was a small room for error, especially for somebody as replaceable as me in this position of work. I had to get along and get work done. Or else I'd be out of a job in the big city of London which I could barely afford, even with two flatmates.
Soon enough, I stepped out onto the twelfth floor. I gulped and observed the workplace around me. It was a considerable office space, and it was a contrast to many of the dull and quaint workplaces I've seen in my lifetime. The walls and doors were painted a vibrant color, and although many of the people here chose to wear plain black and white, it was still nice.
I made my way up to a woman in her early thirties, who had a cigarette in one hand and a pencil which was scratching her beehive hairdo in another. I stood awkwardly at her desk for a good couple of seconds before she looked up at me with lifeless eyes.
"Can I help you?" She asked monotonously, like she'd repeated the phrase thousands of times that day. For all I knew, she probably did.
"Hi, it's my first day here working as a secretary and I was just wondering where Mr.McCartney's office is?"
"It's the third door to the right."
"Thank you." I gave her a smile, though it probably looked like a nervous twitch.
I proceeded to follow her direction and was met with a red door. I wasn't sure what to do after I got there, after all, I hadn't been briefed with anyone as to what my assignments were, or if I was even supposed to intrude and ask him myself. I opened the manilla folders and began to read the papers which were faxed over to me, searching for any assignments or directions which would lead me onto the right path.
I gasped and jumped when the door opened, and the papers which were once in my hands now were scattered all around the carpeted floors below me. Wincing internally, I slowly dragged my gaze upwards to see- Paul?
"Oh my god, I'm so sorry, I-" He stopped rambling as soon as he made eye contact with me. He froze in place.
My jaw went slack, and my heart fell to the floor.
All of his breath was visibly knocked out of him, and his facial expression matched that of a deer caught in headlights. "Oh wow, I wasn't expecting to see you here."
It took me a couple of moments to pull myself together and bring myself down towards the realm of reality to reply.
"Neither was I. You scared the living daylights out of me." I spoke out of breath, before crouching down and receiving the papers and the folder below me. I felt the awkwardness and tension choke me, and I wanted nothing more than to die right there.
"Im so sorry, I didn't mean to scare you." He spoke in a more gentle voice, which seemed to relax me. He had a voice like silk, and I swear it could comfort people all around the world. "Here let me help you."
"No it's all right, I think I've got all of them." I responded as soon as he began to bend down to help me.
I tucked the folders under my arm and looked up again. His brown eyes stared deeply into mine, as they did weeks before when we'd previously met. They were hauntingly beautiful, and I felt myself get goosebumps as he seemingly stared straight into my soul.
"Well, what are you doing here? I wouldn't expect you to turn up at my door. If I can recall, I'm pretty sure it was the other way around." He lightened the situation. His face exuded amusement as his eyes glimmered and his lips turned up slightly.
"Paul-" I began, before correcting myself,"Mr. McCartney."
He seemed to not hear me as to took his lip in-between his teeth and observed my attire. I could feel myself blushing, so I momentarily broke eye contact and looked at the desk. I was glad to see him again, but at the same time, I knew I was doomed.
There was no way I could work under the man whom I had relations with. It wouldn't work out, and one way or another, I'd be out of the job.
I was disappointed and dulled by the entire situation. I knew I would be fired, but I didn't realize how soon my final paycheck would come in the mail. I would've guessed a month previously, but by the looks of things, it was probably going to be a week.
Despite my mind scrambling as to how I'd survive on the streets, my heart was too busy as it gravitated towards the man in a dashing navy suit. He made my breath weak and my pulse strong, and I feared that I could do nothing about it; he stared at me like there was nobody else who mattered.
"You're wearing work attire, as well. Might I add that you look stunning in it? Though I suppose you look good in everything, don't you?" He smiled. "What brings you here, though? Because I'm guessing that you're not here for me."
His pouty lips reminded of me as to when they were on me, lighting me up with sensations which I wasn't quite familiar with. I could still feel his hands grasping my hips and his feathery light kiss lingering on my neck as he whispered sweet nothings.
"Actually-"
A woman in her late twenties called Paul's name and swaggered up to us. Her red painted lips smiled kindly at us, and I involuntarily coward in her presence. She made feel like nothing as her curvaceous presence stood before me, exuding confidence.
"Mr. McCartney, this is your new secretary."
As soon as the words left her mouth, I could see his eyes double in size. He looked at me momentarily before breaking eye contact, looking completely dumbfounded at this revelation.
"-I see you guys have already met, so there's no need for introductions." She glanced at me. "I think she will accommodate your needs and fit into the workplace nicely."
It didn't take long for him to be conscious of this information, nor did it take long for him to respond. "Well I should hope so." He turned towards me, fighting a smirk. "Well Miss, I think we'll get along quite well here."
I shrunk lower into the ground, mortified of the position I was placed in.
"Well, I think we should go. I need to brief you on your tasks." She turned towards me with a small smile. She turned back towards Paul once more and said goodbye before locking arms with mine and walking me over towards the break room.
I looked back towards Paul. He leaned on the secretary desk, staring at me darkly. I felt myself grow rather warm with that look alone, and I was sure he was aware of it too.
"Oh and Ms. Lincoln!" He spoke up before we strayed too far from earshot.
She turned around immediately. "Yes?"
"Can I have my secretary in my office as soon as your done? I need to give her the papers I need typed." I almost believed his words until I saw the way his eyes glimmered like a mischievous boy and his hands held onto my desk until they turned white.
What have I gotten myself into?
YOU ARE READING
Beatles Imagines
RandomJust a collection of some Beatles imagines I've written, that's all.