Dangerously Devoted

7

"Miss Evans, Mr. West would like to see you in his office" my eyes shifted from my cup of ice to the women standing beside me.

A crooked smile rested on her face when she was aware of my notice. She held her pen close to the ends of her dress while her hands gripped closed, waiting for my response.

My jaws are full of ice, and it would be foolish of me to attempt a conversation in this condition, so I simply nod while sending her back a smile.

She exits the room, and I finish crunching on the remaining ice in my mouth while emptying the rest in the sink and tossing the cup into the trash. I detach a paper towel and dab the moisture away from my lips.

I find it strange to be still considered 'Miss Evans' After being employed here for almost two months now; I'd prefer being acknowledged by my first name rather than my last.

I wasn't precisely as shocked by the people I still wasn't familiar with calling me by my last name. Still, the people I've grown close to and built a friendship with- it was odd and made me a bit uncomfortable, especially since I'd asked them to refer to me as Mia multiple times.

I make my way through the double sliding doors and into the hallway towards the direction of Mr. West's office. I can say Mr. West is one of the few people I hadn't built a relationship with; after the friendly conversation we shared at the cafe, he went right back to his dominant ways, and he hadn't uttered a word to me since.

'I know I'm continuously calling him Mr. West even when he told me to call him Arden, but about two weeks ago, I called him Arden, and he gave me a death stare.... never again.'

He'd just call me into his office when he needed things, mostly only ordering me around. I've gotten pretty used to his distance over time since my first day when everyone warned me of his arrogance and absence and just to do as told.

I took in their words, wanting my first experience at a job to go according and to look good on my record. After a few slip-ups and getting things mixed up, I've gotten pretty good at it; it wasn't hard to just grab a few coffees now and then, set up interviews, or even run to get him to lunch instead of getting food here. I find it very satisfying to stay in a routine, and it is one of the most accessible jobs in the building.

I approach the massive brown door that hides West's office just on the other side of it. This door brings me back to the first time I reached it. I always feel uneasy when I place my knuckles against the cold wood, hoping I don't embarrass myself as I did in my first interview.

I leave a gentle knock on the door and wrap my fingers around the knob, waiting on his approval for me to enter.

"Come in" his voice is cold and smooth; I reluctantly wanted to turn around and charge back to my desk, pretending no one ever came to get me.

I twist my hand on the knob, and it pushes open, revealing the sunlight through his sky-scraping windows with him sitting silently at his desk in the middle of the room.

As always, he doesn't acknowledge me; he just sits there with his pen gliding against his piece of paper and stopping ever so often to slide the head of the pen between his teeth.

The cool air wraps around me as I take a step into the room; after nearly two months of working here, I still can't go a day without shivering when I enter his office.