Intentions

One

I was hired to fix some uppity rich white man's image. The irony being that he hasn't had any bad publicity, really more like no publicity. Good or bad. His parents hired my firm to help change the public's view of him, which is pretty much nonexistent at this point. Apparently, he is so closed off that the world hardly knows anything about him that doesn't pertain to his corporate business.

I'm not understanding why it matters so much but his parents are adamant that his public image, or lack thereof, needs a boost. And who am I to argue when I'm getting paid a pretty penny to do so? The reasons why aren't my business, my business is helping this stiff, uppity man appear more human than machine. So, here I am a week later, on my way to meet this man and get a feel for who he may be.

I step out of the cab and fix my clothes while looking up at the huge skyscraper this building turned out to be. Everything is gleaming steel and glass and the lobby looks so spotless, it's borderline creepy. Almost like nothing ever possibly happens down here. There is one desk towards a far corner with a long-haired blonde woman sitting and what looks to be a security guard in a black suit standing on the opposite side. Walking up to the receptionist I clear my throat politely to get her attention.

She doesn't move nor look up so I tap the counter and say "Excuse me." This woman really sits there and takes the longest time to look up at me then asks "What?". There's no need for all the attitude because I came to you politely and respectful. Bitch. Is everything I wanted to say but instead I took a breath and smiled then politely told her I had an appointment with her boss. "Do you really? What could you possibly need to see him about? He has more important things to do rather than talk to someone like you."

I was not going to argue with this girl so I walked away, took out my phone and dialed the number his parents gave me. On the first ring I heard a deep, smooth voice answer "Hello." I never called the number before because his parents told him the date and time of the meeting so I had no reason to. This was my first time hearing his voice and it was like melted chocolate. Smooth and warm, it was already giving me butterflies. "Good morning. This is Kat Alexander. Your parents hired me and we're supposed to have a meeting in a few minutes." There was a brief silence before I heard that voice, "Yes, I remember. Is there something wrong? Are you running late?", then a low chuckle came through the phone. "On the contrary, I'm downstairs being held and a bit insulted by your receptionist."

"I'll handle it. Give me a moment." Then I heard a click which I assume is him putting me on hold. There was a ringing and I turned to see the woman picking up her phone. There was a low murmur and then I saw her glance my way and flush while trying to answer her boss sounding like a stuttering mess. I turned slightly, so that I was facing the glass doors instead of her then heard her mutter, "Okay, I understand sir. I apologize."

The phone hung up and I felt someone approach behind me. Then I heard her clear her throat and say "Ms. Alexander, if you could step this way and follow me please?" I turned and followed behind as she led me to a bank of elevators in the corner behind her desk. We waited for the elevator to open and then she told me to step in and pressed the button for the top floor. Right before the doors closed, she held her hand out to stop it, looked at me and said "Ms. Alexander I apologize for my disrespect. I had no idea." I looked at her and smiled then said "Had you bothered to ask politely what it is that I needed, you would have known. Anyway, I accept your attempt at an apology. Next time try not to be so openly "prejudice", it's unprofessional." I could see her jaw tightening and when I finished speaking, she stiffly removed her arm from the doors.

With the doors closed and the elevator moving upward, I took a minute to make sure I was intact. One would assume I was doing this to make a good impression on a man, but that's not what it is. I'm just a neat freak and I dislike when I look disheveled or anything like that. I stared at my hair to make sure no curl was out of place, which was a useless attempt anyway. Compliments of having type 4 hair that was a long curtain of frizz no matter how hard I tried to tame it. It has a life of its own honestly. Fixing the bit hanging to the side of my forehead, I finished right before the elevator came to a stop and the doors slid open. I step off and start making my way down the silent corridor, the sound of my heels echoing off the tiled floor. I came to a stop in front of a pair of wooden double doors with a name plaque to the side that read Wyatt Parker.

I knocked twice and waited for that voice to tell me to come in. A quick second later I heard it, "Come in. Please close the door behind you and take a seat Ms. Alexander." The first thing I noticed, as I entered, were his eyes. Specifically, the fact that one was blue and the other brown, it gave him this slightly exotic look which worked. I sat down in the chair across from his desk and studied him while he took the time to shuffle around the dozens of papers that littered his desk. He was a handsome tanned man, with symmetrical features, a nice 5 o'clock shadow, short hair and black square glasses. He was extremely handsome and honestly not as "white-looking" as I'd assumed. I heard a throat clear and blinked when I realized I had been watching him so intently that I did not realize he had finished whatever it was he was doing. He sat back in his chair and nodded his head towards me which I assumed meant that he was ready for me to start speaking.

However, before I opened my mouth to say a word, he said "Kat Alexander, you're the woman my parents hired to sort me out. Is that correct?" I nodded and thought Duh, I told you that not less than five minutes ago but said, "I wouldn't use the word sort, exactly, but yes, that's accurate." I saw a smirk appear towards the corner of his mouth and watched as he got up and walked around to where I sat. Leaning on the front of his desk with his legs crossed at the ankles, he spoke again, "Okay, Alexander, what do you need to know?"