Amelia had everything- family, friends, a promising future- the sky was the limit. But just like that everything was taken from her. One moment she's planning her high school graduation party the next she's laying on a therapist's couch. It was as i...
I was standing in the doorway of this massive office that had to have been the same size of the waiting room, if not bigger. Two large bookcases stood tall on both sides of the room holding the works of various diverse authors and playwrights. Did he read all of these?
My eyes dragged across the rest of the room from left to right. A long, dark brown leather sofa settled beneath a framed oil painting of the sea. A short distance away were two tufted leather chairs that matched the shade of the sofa. For all the colors to blend so well together, as well as the pieces of furniture and art ...this man had to be a precisionist.
"Precisionist or not, he possesses a tasteful collection of books," I concluded in my thoughts.
"Ms. Peterson," a deep, alluring voice called out. My attention faded away from the book case to focus on where the voice was coming from. And there, sitting behind his gorgeous auburn desk was Dr. Broderick.
My god, he looked just like his pictures online. Nope. He looked better.
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My hands went cold. It felt like all the blood was rushing to my face. Was I blushing? All the man had done was say my name and already he was having an effect on me. My stomach continued to do back flips as I turned to face him.
I offered a weak smile to hide my jitteriness. "Dr. Broderick." Before I knew it, I was standing at his deck with my hand in his.
"It's nice to meet you," he said with a promising smile. "Please, take a seat. I have pulled up the resume that you have sent to Charlotte."
I am more than happy to take a seat in one of the chairs across from him. If I was to stand for another minute my legs were surely going to give out from under me. His eyes glided over the screen of his laptop, his face remained expressionless. There wasn't a flicker of admiration, nor apathy in his stare.
Man, this guy is hard to read.
After several minutes of him just scrolling through my resume, I continued my personal evaluation of the room. As well as him. The orderliness of his desk held similarities to his physical character. For starters, the folders that laid piled up next to his computer were stacked neatly without a single page sticking out. His clothes were fitted to his body as though they were tailored to his fit only him. His wavy brown hair was pulled away from his face with gel. My eyes followed his sharp jawline until they rested at his mouth. I shifted uncomfortably in my seat when the corner of his mouth pulled up.
He stopped scrolling through my resume to turn to look at me. "This is a very impressive resume."
I'm captivated by the depths of his crystal blue eyes. "Thank you." I held his gaze longer than I needed to, but I just couldn't bring myself to pull away. I sat up straight in my chair trying to hide the fact that this man was starting to make me anxious.
"Do you have any questions about any of my past occupations? I know that I have listed probably more than what was necessary."
