AMELIA POV
"Hi! Sienna Lang here, I'm a reporter from the Franklin News, I have an appointment with Mr Parker"
The young, perky looking receptionist's eyes bulge out of her head, looking as animated as a character from the cartoon network.
She quickly looks down at my computer then back to me. Taking in my professional pantsuit, notepad and shiny black wig pulled into an elegant bun, then back to her screen.
"I don't see an appoint-"
"Look I really don't have time for this, I have three more interviews lined up at bigger and better companies If you'd prefer I just see them, Mr Parker gave me the impression he was serious and committed but if I'm going to be put on a waiting list then-"
"NO! No... um, I'll just go ask him!"
The poor young lady then scuttles away, tripping in her heels in her state of distress. Taking this opportunity, I quickly round the desk, taking a seat, and search the computer. A wispy black hair falls into my eyeline as I absent-mindedly pushes it behind my ear.
Making sure to download all the information regarding the company, its practices, and of course Mr Parker I sit and watch as the download number begins to rise.
43%
All schedules, calendars, notes, meetings and phone calls related to dear Mr Parker is so easily pulled into my grasp.
57%
Having nothing more to do than wait, I look up at the corner of the room. Zeroing in on the security camera and gracing it a little wave.
71%
Having ensured before my escapade that every roll of video taken of me at this specific location would loop, showing only an impatient reporter waiting at the front of the desk whilst Ms Perky, the assistant scurries off.
94%
I hear the distinct sound of stilettos hitting carpet. Ms Perky is on her way back.
97%
Unbothered, I stand up and straighten my pantsuit jacket. Grabs my things, I wait for that last 3% to click over.
Ms Perky, only 10 seconds later, rounds the corner breathing rapidly as she scans the lobby. Sienna Lang having already grown impatient and walked out.
Nearing tears Ms Perky slumps down in her chair and begins her work again. Seeing nothing amiss.
As life for Perky continues, I waltz down the street, USB in hand and my thoughts focused on ridding myself of the horrendous black wig.
~~~
That afternoon I finds myself seated in a plush, cream booth sipping on a coffee and watching a scene unfold over the lip of my mug.
Seated in the table in front of me was Mr Parker, on his scheduled lunch meeting, with a broad-shouldered African American man clad in an Armani suit that clung to his biceps. His brows slashed across his face, a permanent frown etched into stone on his chiselled face.
Such a contrast to Mr Parker's sun-kissed tan, lined with wrinkles. His face looking as though it were weighed down with time. His forty years looking closer to fifty. Silver sprinkled hair and a frail body, yet still radiating power and confidence.
The testosterone protruding from the table almost drowned me. Its waves emitting so strongly, I felt it wrap around my neck, slipping down my throat.
But I was accustomed to drowning. Their forceful waves appearing as simple ripples in a pond compared to the trained killers I lived with.
So rather than reacting, I simply sipped my coffee and remained unnoticed whilst cataloguing the lunch-mates movements.
After much discussion, Mr Parker finally pulls out a wad of files from his briefcase at the leg of his chair. With care he passes them over, Chiselled Jaw's interest now peaked.
Soon after, the two end the lunch with a simple handshake and go their seperate ways. Mr Parker holding the lapels of his jacket and his now empty briefcase as he steps into his awaiting car.
Chiselled Jaw also makes his way toward his own car. But moments before he can exit the quaint coffee house, I clumsily bump into his shoulder, almost falling over in the process.
I manage to steady myself with a hand to his muscular shoulder and a sheepish smile. Chiselled Jaw's lips tightening to a thin line as though attempting to mask his annoyance at the blundering girl.
"Oh my gosh I am SO sorry! I am just so clumsy. Are you ok? Should I grab some napkins? Honestly my mum was right I need to watch where I'm go-"
"-Its fine." He interrupts, visibly aggravated.
With one last 'sorry' thrown at him, Chiselled Jaw exits the shop, entering his car as I stand inside smugly. Feeling a vibration against my leg where my phone rests, signalling the tracker had activated.
YOU ARE READING
Her Shadows
Romance~ A World Painted Grey: Book 1 ~ Already incapacitated, I drag his limp body toward the smoking car. Fastening him back into his seat, seatbelt back in place. Then I grip his skull with my glove-clad hands and ram his head into the steering wheel. O...
