Hidden Trauma

Chapter 2

Kate

In the main entrance, two huge modern chandeliers hang from the ceiling. They consist of white and gold silver spheres all connected with metal wires. The gray rug lying beneath the cream colored couch is furnished with a coffee table, and the receptionist desk is to the right of the main doors.

I wonder if the other branch in London looks like this. Mr. Beckham is from England. He's never told me from what part exactly, but you can't exactly miss him and his wife's thick English accent. Mr. Beckham has a Law firm here in the U.S. and one in London. The man is incredibly successful, and filthy rich.

Mrs. Strack, the main lobby receptionist, is already here, as usual. She's the only person who gets here earlier than me.

"Good morning Mrs. Strack." I greet her with a warm smile.

"Oh good morning Kate! Ready for today?"

"I sure am...ready for it to be over."

"Oh stop, it won't be that bad! Try to make the most of it, will you?"

"I'll try. Have a good one!" I reply over my shoulders, making my way to the elevators.

"Thanks darling, you too."

Mrs. Strack is a tall brunette woman, in her mid fifties. She comes to work everyday wearing a blazer and pencil skirt, and her hair is always pulled into a side bun. Her nails are always perfectly painted in a french manicure, and the crimson red lipstick she wears is a tone too dark for her pale complexion.

I finally reached the elevator doors and press the 'up' button over and over again. I know it won't make the elevator get there any faster, but it gives me peace of mind...and it's fun. My sister and I always see how many times we can press the button before the elevator doors open.

The loud ding breaks my streak of 37 clicks. Not bad. I step inside and watch the button light up for the top floor. This building has 11 floors, not very big if you ask me. Most of the floors consist of waiting rooms and offices to the 83 attorneys and legal counselors that make up this firm.

The 11th floor is the best floor in my opinion. It has a great view of the harbor, and it's probably why Mr. Beckham originally chose to have his office on this floor. This is also the floor where all the representatives from each department have their offices.

The elevator doors open, I step out and look around. It's silent. I walk into the large waiting area. The receptionist desk is a sleek dark gray color with an intricate metal detail in the front of the desk and on the wall, and four tiny lamps hang from the ceiling. To the left of the desk is the waiting area where blue comfy armchairs are spread out and the coffee tables are decorated nicely with green fake plants and books that no one ever actually reads.

I start walking down the hall that leads into the office place and turn sharply to the right, the way to my desk, when I feel my feet slip under me. As my butt slams into the ground, my head bangs into the wall.

"Shit." I curse, almost as a second nature.

I look up, the back of my head aching, and see the most attractive man I have ever seen in my life. His straight light brown hair is swept back, and his bright green-blue eyes gaze into mine as time freezes in this moment.

"Apologies Miss." He says, his slight British accent a dead giveaway. I know exactly who this is. My new boss.

"Here let me help you up." He put his arm around my waist and helps me back onto my feet.

"Thanks."

"Of course. Though I am very sorry you got hurt. Let me see if I can find you some ice for your head." He runs off before I get the chance to tell him I was fine and didn't need anything.