I belong to Mr. Whitlock?

Prologue

Mandy:

Carrying a cardboard box filled with white printing paper for the supply closet isn’t exactly my job, yet here I am; in my three inch incredibly tight black pumps, black pencil skirt, a long sleeve black button up shirt. I wore my brown hair in a tight ponytail. I don’t have to dress to impress since I’m an editor but I choose to. I should have left work two hours ago but someone forgot to put these papers where they go and since I don’t want my boss to start yelling at the entire editing department for not being neat, I might as well do it.

Walking these never ending white wall with grey rug halls makes one really think how boring their job can be at times. The supply closet is only after this right narrow turn then I can go home: finally.

Once I took the turn, the box was pushed against my stomach making my arms release at once and sending my none stable feet backwards. In a blink of an eye I tripped on my own foot and fell on my ass with a loud girlish yelp. I squeeze my eyes shut for a second trying to capture what had just happened as a manly voice spoke.

“Are you alright?” I open my eyes right when the man that seems I had ran into grabbed my arm and helped me rise to my feet.

I took in a good look of him: I’ve never seen him around here before… maybe he’s new… Who knows?  He had semi long black hair that was brushed back but gently fell forward; his eyes were light brown of what I saw also he has a manly narrow nose and a bold chin.  He was handsome: very handsome… He also wore a black suit and matching dress shoes: and yes… I can look at a person one time very quick and remember everything that was on them… perks of being in the writing industries.

“Are you alright?” He asked me again this time his voice seeming a little annoyed.

“I am,” I brush myself then crotched down so I could pick up the pieces of paper that has fallen from the box and some of the papers I grabbed weren’t mine so I handed it back to Mr. Handsome.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, and be careful next time.” I spat as kindly as I could.

Once I had everything in my hands and ready to go I glanced one more time up at him, he seemed to want to say something then he raised an eyebrow instead: how can he do that!

“Are you a writer?” He asks politely.

“No, I’m an editor.”I say flatly wanting for him to back away so I could continue my journey to the supply closet.

He hums under his breath then smiles at me. “That’s odd… All editors should have left two hours ago, what are you still doing here?” I glare at him this time, I couldn’t be nice to someone who’s asking questions plus doesn’t say sorry for bumping into me.

“Who are you to be asking me this anyways?” I walked pass him then turned around to see him staring after me his expressing unreadable. “Plus should you apply that story to yourself since obviously you’re not an author, and I’ve never seen you in the editing department either.” I nod my head as my sign of departure is coming and looked into his daring brown eyes and stormed away.

“What an ass, he didn’t even dare say sorry!”