Smitten

Chapter 3

"That was a memorable day to me, for it made great changes in me. But, it is the same with any life. Imagine one selected day struck out of it, and think how different its course would have been. Pause you who read this, and think for a moment of the long chain of iron or gold, of thorns or flowers, that would have bound you, but for the formation of the first link on one memorable day."

Charles Dickens
~~~

One of many things that truly fascinates me about time, in general, is its continuity; I mean we really don't experience it as stopping and starting. Our life span is too short for that. But what most intrigues me is its intrinsic order of things from past to present to future, and the beauty of it all consists of the connections of events, they can be psychological and physical, it doesn't really matter, what really matters is their ability to lead to this sort of version of presentism, as of the universe existed just for this exact moment while being unconscious the whole time.

But then again, it's debatable, unlike the fact that I'm nervous as fuck, and my freaking palms are drenched in sweat while standing in front of a large set of electric gates, and the huge mansion that features six floors and is set in the heart of the Upper East Side that only the upper-crust is worthy to call home.

Fortunately, the address is a short distance away from the subway station. God forbid if I ever get the job, and I have to walk long distances for the three upcoming scorching hot months. I'm not that brave to deliberately submit myself to that kind of soul-crushing torture.

I look around the impressively calm neighborhood, still debating whether or not I should be here. Maybe I should just call and make something up about not being able to do the job, lying isn't a problem.

This is a bad idea, I should go back home and forget about the whole thing, it's too much, my body's reaction to Michael Harrington is too much for me to handle on a daily bases.

I'm supposed to go to college, hook up with hot older guys-preferably professors- and forget all about Michael Harrington. for fuck's sake, that is the plan, then what on earth am I doing in front of the guy's house?

It's not my damn fault, my traitorous body cannot be professional no matter how my brain orders it to be.

But I'd love to know more about the Sob, it's no secret, that he intrigues me. I can't deny that thing about him that easily steals my attention, I can feel it deep inside me, it's like it speaks to my body while invading my brain.

If only it goes both ways, I'm just another silly girl in a world that is crammed full of stupid, desperate people.

It's a never-ending battle, and my enthusiasm for this interview is dampening further by the minute.

"Just do it. Don't overthink it." I tell myself, I'm here for the money nothing else.

Puffing out a breath, I straighten my shoulders and walk over to the intercom. before I get to press the bottom, I hear a buzzing sound, and the gates start opening, taking me by surprise.

My heart starts to thump harder in my chest, and my stomach churns.
I dart my head around but I don't see any visible surveillance cameras.

Damn it.

I must look stupid lurking in front of the mansion. What did I think?
As if they didn't think of security to protect their billion-dollar asses. Besides the whole residential area seems fully reimagined with the highest level of finishes and technology.

I pull myself together and move a foot in front of the other. It's hard. But I do it. I walk through the gates just in time the front door clicks open, revealing a middle-aged woman.