In The Office

Chapter one:

My palms are sweating. The tissue I've been holding is a ripped out watery mess now, my heart beat refuses to calm down and my eyes keep shifting to the clock hanging on the wall then at the seats around me that have been slowly emptying all morning. It's almost eleven now. I'm the only one left. The expressions of all the interviewees before me didn't help me figure out anything. Some of them came out laughing or smiling. Others came out sweating with wide eyes. One even came out crying. I began doubting myself the second I stepped into the lobby this morning. By the time I got off the elevator at the top floor I was already shaking, my feet almost tripping on themselves as I tried to walk to the assistant's desk. The fact that I'm wearing three inch heels for the first time in almost a year may have had something to do with that too.

Either way, I'm an anxious mess and I'm not even sure I can get through the interview let alone get the job. A little voice is telling me to calm down, that I am more than qualified for this, that I have paid my dues over and over again and now I'm ready for this. I wish I could believe it. I take in a deep breath and try to even my heartbeats. My phone vibrates and I pull it out of my purse.

How did it go?

It's Emma. She's been more worried about this than I am. She even stayed over last night to help me choose my outfit for today since I am less than gifted in that department. We settled on this white blouse, black pants and blazer, though she'd spent a good amount of time trying to convince me to go with a skirt that was way too short to be professional. The skirt, obviously, was hers and she wanted me to borrow it. It took some time to convince her that I will not wear something fit for a club to a job interview. As a compromise, I had agreed to wear these tortuous heels. I agree, they might have helped my confidence slightly, but they are not good for my balance.

Not yet. I type back. I'm going in next.

Her reply comes almost instantly.

Good luck. You're going to get it, don't worry about a thing.

I smile down at my phone and am about to answer when the assistant speaks. "Miss Parker, Mr Carson will see you now." Just as she finishes, a man walks out of the office. I recognize him as the interviewee who got in ten minutes ago. His face is pale as he wordlessly makes his way to the elevator.

I shoot up from my seat and press the side of my phone a few times until I hear the click of the lock screen. My heart picks up its pace once more and I make my way to the office. The assistant opens the door for me with an encouraging smile, the kind you give to a kid when they talk about all the gifts they want Santa to bring them. The kind that says, 'I'll let you dream. For now.'

I try to shake off these thoughts and step into the wide office. Its colors were clearly meant to intimidate. Black carpets with modern gold designs, dark grey walls, dark wood furniture and the ever so popular floor to ceiling window that covered a whole wall's worth. The man behind the desk had his head down when I entered, all I can see of him is his short dark curls and the top of his light grey suit. He shuffled a few papers, occasionally writing some notes as he gathered them. I stood silently waiting for him to acknowledge me. When twenty more seconds passed and he didn't, I softly cleared my throat not sure how else to proceed.

He didn't look up.so I spoke, "Good morning Mr Carson." Finally, he looked up and I met his dark green eyes behind a pair of thick rimmed glasses. Dark green eyes that I recognized all too well. "A-Adam?"

He stays frozen for a moment but no flicker of recognition crosses his face. I might be wrong but I think I see disappointment settle on his face. A short huff leaves his lips.

I can't stop myself as I step closer, ecstatic to see him after all these years. "It's me, Danny." In the years since high school my appearance changed a lot. I dropped the glasses and only wear them when working. I made a habit of straightening my wild curls and grew out my bangs but I really expected him to still recognize me. "I know I look different but-"

"I know who you are, Miss Parker." His voice is cold and curt. It had matured from the shy seventeen year old boy I knew but it's more than just that. It's harsh and borders on angry. "I was hoping it was just a similar name. And yet here you are. Daniella Parker in the flesh."

"You were hoping it wasn't me?" I ask, confused.

"Miss Parker I don't have all day and I have no intention of catching up so if that is why you're here I ask you to leave now and not waste anymore of my time."

His words hurt more than a blow to my chest. I feel the air get knocked out of me and my thoughts scatter all over the place. I don't know how to respond. "Ad-"

"If you wish to work here you'll have to address me as Mr Carson. If you don't then please." He gestures towards the door. "Shall we begin the interview then?"

Flustered I nod. In all the years since that day, I have fantasized about meeting Adam Williams in so many ways. But this was definitely not one of them. Still, I swallow my questions and my bruised pride and sit down in front of his desk. I need this job. I don't care if I have to sit here facing this man and let him insult me to get it. I will take it. If not for me, then for her sake.

"Very well," he says as he looks down at my resume. "You said here that you worked for a small firm in Wolfwoods. Were you fired or did you quit?"

"I quit."

"Why?"

"I had to move here to Manhattan for some personal reasons."

Adam doesn't blink. "Have you ever designed a hotel before?"

That was the question I dreaded the most. "Well, no. There aren't exactly a lot of hotels in Wolfwoods. It's a very small town and not very touristic. But I did design some inns and a motel in that area."

He nods and flips a page. "Do you prefer to work in groups or individually?"

"I do fine with both. In this field, it's rare to work completely alone there are always other jobs that have to help but I manage perfectly well on my own given the proper information and-" My phone beeps and my stomach clenches. I am sure I had it on vibrate. I checked it a dozen times just this morning. When Emma called it didn't beep either or- I must have set it on ringing earlier when I tried to lock it. I curse inwardly. I quickly pull it out and turn it completely off. "I'm so sorry I really did have it silenced the-"

"That's all I needed to hear." He shakes his head, "Thank you for coming." He gets back to his paperwork before I even look up at him. "Don't expect a call from us."

"Sir, that was a mistake. I don't usually have my phone ringing during work I-"

"It's not just the phone, Miss Parker. You have no experience designing hotels, you worked at a small time firm specialising in houses, and you have no understanding of acceptable social behavior."

"Excuse me?"

"I've had quite the cast this morning but you were the only one who barged in here calling me by my first name and chatting as if you were in a cafe and not a job interview."

"I had the right to be surprised." I defend. "I walk in here expecting to meet a Carson and I end up talking to a Williams whom I haven't seen in years."

"You should have done your research before coming here then."

"I did! And in no article or post did I find your picture or your last name that you seem to have changed."

"And do you expect me to hire you for your lack of research skills?" He asks calmly.

I'm seething. I want nothing more than to send a glass full of water at his unchanging stone carved face. I want to yell at him. Instead, I walk to the door as fast as I can before I do something I might regret.

As I open the door and step out I hear him throw one last jab. "Next time, miss Parker, rely on something more than the fact that you knew the CEO ten years ago and never contacted him since. We look for skills in this industry, not bad acting."

I don't answer him and close the door behind me. Of course he's acting like this. Our last encounter didn't exactly end with a warm goodbye. And that is entirely my fault.