Oh, Jesus. Not today, any day but today, please.
“God, where are they,” I whispered as I dug through my purse.
I knew I should’ve gotten a bigger key chain, something that I couldn’t easily lose.
I looked at my watch and saw it was time to head out the door, “Shit!”
I stopped digging for a moment and tilted my head to the ceiling. I took a deep breath and tried like hell not to get too worked up because then I would start sweating and I worked too hard on my makeup to mess it up because of some freakin’ keys!
I sighed as I looked around the room, trying to retrace my steps and, right there, on the counter were my keys.
I huffed in annoyance and quickly snatched them up before patting myself down to make sure I had everything: my cellphone, keys, and purse.
I pulled the door open and then shut and locked it before walking down the hall and out of the apartment building.
The office building was about ten minutes away, but because of Houston traffic, I decided to leave an extra ten minutes early.
I pulled up to the large black daunting building and for the first time in a long time, I felt anxiety settle in my stomach like a cement block. I rested my forehead against the steering wheel and took a few deep breaths.
It’s okay, totally okay. If I don’t get the job then whatever. It’s their loss.
Even as I tried to force myself to not care so much my leg as shaking from how much I actually cared.
I wanted this job so bad. I knew it paid well and just to say I worked here... it would be a dream come true—especially if I got to meet the CEO. I knew from business magazines that he was older but completely breathtaking. Even just five minutes with the man would do me in for a lifetime.
I sat up straight at the thought. No, I didn’t want to meet him. I would make a complete and utter fool of myself. I would try my hardest to steer clear of him.
A knock sounded in the window and I jumped before looking at the older gentleman smiling down at me. I rolled my window down a fraction, “Hi, my name is Henry. I’m the valet, would you like me to...”
Oh, yeah. I probably can’t just sit in front of the building for the next—I looked at the clock on the dash—ten minutes, I guess.
I cleared my throat, “Yeah, sorry.”
He pulled my door open and before I got out I rolled the window up.
I backed away from the car, “So, I just...And you’ll..?” I’d never been somewhere with a valet so I wasn’t exactly for sure how the process worked.
“I’ll take good care of your car for you, miss,” he stated in a gentle voice and somehow it helped to calm me.
“Thank you,” I murmured and turned around to look at the doors of the building.
“Do you mind me asking what your name is, miss,” he asked from behind me.
I turned back around, “Daisy.”
He smiled lightly, “Good luck, Ms. Daisy.”
I smiled lightly as well, “Thank you, Henry.”
I took a deep breath and forced my feet to start moving towards the door. I yanked it open a little too forcefully but by the grace of God, no one was in the lobby except the woman at the front desk.
“Good morning and welcome to Blackstone Inc. How can I help you?”
She had long blonde hair and clearly she was older than me, probably in her 30′s. Her blue eyes were lined with a dark liner and the hot pink button up she wore complimented her tanned skin.
“Hi,” I cleared my throat before taking another deep breath, “My name is Daisy Mitchell and I’m here for an interview. I’m about ten minutes early, sorry.”
She began typing on her computer before she pulled a sticky note off the pad and wrote a six digit code on it.
“Head up to the 25th floor and when prompted by the automated voice type in this code on the keypad,” she handed me the sticky note with a smile.
Code? Did every floor need a code for entry?
I took it and smiled, “Thank you.”
“Good luck, Daisy,” she said before turning her head back to the computer.
I turned and saw the elevator opening and people walking out. I made it just as the last person was stepping off.
I shut my eyes as the doors closed and I took a deep breath to steady and calm myself.
When I opened my eyes again to press the floor number I saw that the building only had 25 floors.
I felt the blood rush from my face. My interview was on the top floor? Isn’t that usually where the CEO works?
I could feel myself start to hyperventilate as the elevator started ascending.
I had only ever seen this man on tv or in magazines and though he was a sight to see, I didn’t think I wanted to meet him in person. The Blackstone brothers had a reputation for being hard and took shit from no one. They expected greatness and wouldn’t accept anything less. I could only hope that I held up to the task.
Thankfully, no one else needed the elevator while I was in it so I didn’t have to awkwardly answer small talk questions.
When the automated female voice came over the speaker asking for the code I punched it in with a shaking hand and watched as the doors opened.
The first thing I noticed was the dark hardwood floor and marble walls as I walked on slightly shaking knees down the short hallway. I saw that it opened to a large office with a wall of floor to ceiling windows overlooking the city.
“Please, come in and sit. I’ll be with you in a moment,” I heard a deep baritone voice call from further inside the office and it made my insides melt.
That was his voice? He sounded youthful but the command was clear behind the politeness.
I took my time walking down the hall as I admired the artwork that hung on the walls. They were all so beautiful and quite a few of them were abstract.
When I finally walked into the open office and turned to the right I saw him sitting behind a large white desk.
His black hair was styled longer on the top than the sides and pushed back with gel. His dark facial hair was styled short and the navy suit he was wearing strained against his shoulders and arms. He was even better looking in person. Even the way his chest moved with every breath he took had his suit straining.
I could see why the brothers were held in such high regards. His style was modern and masculine: the dark hardwood floors offset with the white desk and chairs. The dark wood bookshelf behind him held books and various nautical nicknacks.
He raised his pen cap to his lips and placed it between his teeth a moment before bringing it back to the paper to jot something down.
I smoothed my hands over my knee-length emerald green dress that I knew fit my curves well. It strained against my large chest and hips and I knew it was sure to catch his eye.
“Please, do sit,” he said lightly, gesturing with his pen to the two white leather chairs with his head still looking down at the papers on his desk.
I tried to walk as confidently as I could in my beige heels, but I couldn't stop my hands from slightly shaking as I sat down on the edge of the chair.
“Your name,” he asked gently, his eyes still trained to the desk and his tongue parting his lips to wet the bottom.
I wondered then what it would feel like to kiss this man. One of the most powerful men in the city. What it must be like to spend one night with him. I bet he was an amazing lover, but I couldn’t see myself being his type.
I bet the blonde woman at the front desk was, though.
I saw the edges of his lips form a smirk and his eyebrow arch before his eyes finally met mine, “Your name?”
My eyes widened as I stared at his light amber colored eyes. They were so beautiful and his long dark lashes framed them beautifully. The small smirk on his face was something that came naturally for him, you could tell. He was a gorgeous man.
“Daisy,” I murmured, trapped in his gaze for a moment.
“A little louder,” the smirk growing.
If his mission was to take my breath away he was succeeding.
I cleared my throat, “Daisy—Daisy Mitchell,” I stated with more confidence.
He hummed and sat back against his chair with his hands together and his forefingers under his chin.
“You’re early, Daisy,” he said in a husky voice.