How To Get Over A Man

2:She Wears Prada.

Monday, a year after moving to The Wayne's Central…

Amelia pulled down the mirror and reapplied her lipstick which was a bold shade of bloody red. Then she smacked her lips, smirked at herself, and returned the lipstick to her bag before pulling out her shades. Her curly hair was pulled into a long bushy ponytail that was formed by a collection of several smaller tails, slicked down from the edges to the back. 

From behind the windshield of her Bentley, Amelia watched Cameron, the six-month-old security guard flirt with her employee who was responding with stupid grins.  Then she watched him bring out his phone with that face that men have whenever they wanna collect a girl's number and that's when she decided to step out. 

First, her left foot to make sure she planted her three-inch heels firmly on the floor before getting the rest of her body out, grabbing her handbag along. With a force released on purpose, her car door shut closed with a quick attention-seeking slam. 

Cameron and the employee jumped instantly, the phone tumbling out of his hands as his pale potato-looking face turned red. As she adjusted her well-placed Prada belt that held her white Prada power suit in place, she turned her attention to the employee who was having a hard time deciding whether to go past the door into the company or stay rooted at the spot. She looked like she had been caught red-handed with her hand in Amelia's safe because her expression was too ghastly for a cookie jar.

Amelia hated loitering. Her employees knew it and have seen her fire someone for it. When it's time for work you work, you don't waste time on stupid things like falling for a man's antics and the employee knew that well enough for her to start apologizing as soon as Amelia was within hearing distance.

"Miss Bronte, I-im so s-sorry. I-i didn't mean t-to… I j-just arrived and then Cameron was–"

"Me?" The security guard interjected immediately, eyes bulging out in fake surprise like he wasn't involved. His face turned ashen like he had been accused falsely when the poor lady had not even said anything.

The employee turned her head snappily towards him wanting to retort something but turned back to face Amelia.

She swallowed, beads of perspiration starting to decorate her already shiny forehead. "M-miss Bronte, l-like I-i said ma'am, I was just arriving and then… I-i I am s-sorry…"

Another thing she hated. Wasted speech AKA rambling. Why doesn't she just take a moment to breathe and produce meaningful words like an intelligent human being? Talking aimlessly with incoherent words was never beneficial, it made one seem awkward and dumb. 

"...but then I–"

"Ms. Tracy!" Amelia cut the nervous employee short, reading her name from the ID hanging by a rope around her neck. Her voice was of a medium octave but commandeering enough for Miss Tracy to seal her lips instantly.

"You're wasting time."

Tracy nodded in agreement even if she was still confused as to what to do.

"You should be in there working right?" Amelia angled her chin an authoritative inch.

Tracy's mouth fell open. "Ah! Yes ma'am. Yes!" She nodded, turned around swiftly and walked into the building, the automated doors opening and closing with a soft click behind her.

Now, him.

She redirected her gaze towards the security guard who was suddenly concentrating extra hard on his work, attending to the other employees that were just arriving. 

"Good morning Miss Bronte." They greeted, each of them in a timid voice all the while avoiding her gaze as they hurried through the automated doors.