I belong to Mr. Whitlock?

Chapter1

Mandy:

[One Week Later]

“Okay what if… I understand you’re on vacation in Morocco but… Please Mr. Silverman your deadline is coming up… In TWO weeks!” I stared at poor Isabel’s cubical as she’s once again fights with her one of her client for their work before the deadline. I know how frustrating it is.

“Mr.-Mr. Silverman please… I understand… Listen to me! I need you to call the company and explain your situation otherwise I need that draft by Thursday… Yes, I’m sure, I’ll say that… Bye-bye.” She hangs up then squeezes her eyes shut and begins to rub her face as a gesture of annoyance.

“You were doing great Izzy,” I call out smiling at her, she looks at me then gave me a tiresome smile.

“Yeah… Who knew working for Whitlock Company and Incorporated in Whitlock tower in Orlando Florida would be so busy?!” She chuckles as she pushes herself to the other side of her cubical in her office chair.

“I knew the minute I said yes,” I mummer but smiled when she looked at me. “Anyways are you going to the winter gala tonight?” I ask her, just trying to scout who is going and who’s not.

She shrugs. “I don’t know, I mean I went every year alone but now that I have someone I don’t think it’d be the same for me.” She sighs and continues to type in her computer.

Her brown curly hair seemed a little different than usual, maybe she got a haircut yesterday? I turn my attention back to my monitor and began to type my inputs in the story of my client. He’s writing a biography on Lady Gaga and to be honest, I kind of find it funny how she actually came up with the idea of wearing the meat. There’s a lot that I had read of her I didn’t actually get yet its Lady Gaga: who would get someone whose world is more incredible than mine.

“Andy,” I spun around to look at Jose who held in his hands a red thick binder filled of paper: here we go. “I need help.” I like Jose Garcia: he’s a cute Hispanic twenty year old guy who just started working here. I personally find him annoying at times when he always comes to me for help when he already knows the answers.

“There goes Mister I don’t know nada.” Isabel taunt from her side with a wide smirk on her face.

“Callate celosa,” Jose replied sticking his tongue out at her as she chuckles.

“Celosa de que idiota,” Isabel spat back at him with a daring smirk on her face.

I raised my hands then raised my voice a little, “No Spanish war! I’m a gringa so English please.”

“Now Jose, what do you need help with?”

“I need to see if in any of these binders there’s a section of verses of poetry.” He says opening the binder and setting it on my desk. He looked completely clueless.

“What kind of verse?”

“I don’t know the William Shakespeare kind.” I roll my eyes at him: what kind of answer is that!

“Jose, you were supposed to know all of this beforehand!” I spat at him like a mom would to her own son.

“I forgot about the poetry part, don’t yell at me!”

“I’m not yelling.” I sigh, “Why don’t you bring this over to my place and we’ll finish this before the gala tonight?” I looked at him with a sweet smile and he returned the gesture as he bends and kisses my forehead.

“Thank you Andy you’re the best!” He marches away into the other side of the cubicle’s leaving me and Isabel alone.

“He ain’t coming to our house with his work.” Isabel warned.

I look at her and winked. “That’s why we’re leaving way before he gets home.”