My eyes landed on a man turned towards the view of New York. Glass walls cover the entire side of the room. He is talking on mobile unaware of me. I'm too far away to distinguish what he is saying. I took this time to watch the room. My entire flat can fit in this one room, it's that big. Two sets of couches are aligned on both sides of me. On my left side, there is a coffee table littered with documents. I can see his desk which looks so pristine, I'm afraid to think about what happens when some coffee is spilled.
As I took notice of the room, Mr. Sinclair turned around and caught sight of me. My breath hitches, standing in front of me is the most handsome man I ever saw. Not that I haven't seen many. In New York, you can find every other block a handsome guy. I couldn't pull my eyes away from him, there is something more to him than just being handsome. Maybe it's his position, he knows how powerful he is and wielded that power into his persona.
He is 6.3' or 6.4' in height. I can see his biceps flexing as he changes mobile to another ear. He is not bulky like rock nor thin like a swimmer. He is just right. I never thought a beard would go well with a suit, but he pulls it off. It's like his small rebellion against being suit perfect.
My eyes finally connect with his, which are grey, and are looking at me with a pretty disinterest glare to it. Why can't I get an amused smile like in all sexy office novels I read? I landed on planet earth with lightning speed at that glare. Bye-bye future Sinclair babies, mama will miss you.
He ended his call and gave me his undivided attention. My mind flustered being focused on those grey eyes. I don't know why, but that look reminds me of Christian Gray, and I want to purr saying ‘Yes sir'. My face heats up showing my thoughts. I cross my fingers that Mr. Sinclair won't pick up on my thoughts, that would be the icing on my cake after that glare.
'Are you going to stare all day?', he said irritated.
'I'm sorry.' Not exactly, but don't say that.
'I'm Erica Anderson. I was informed to report here', I clarified to him.
'Tell me, Ms. Anderson, how old are you?'
'I don't think it's relevant', I said wondering where he was going with this.
'Let me decide whether it's relevant or not ', he started letting me know there is no room for argument.
'21 Mr. Sinclair'
'And what are your qualifications?'
'I'm working for 3 years in this corporation and before that'
He cut before I could finish my sentence by saying,' I'm asking your qualifications Ms. Anderson, not your work experience, surely you may know the difference'
I grit my teeth, so as not to snub his arrogance.
'I know the difference very clearly Mr. Sinclair. You would have known if you had let me finish', I said with small defiance slipping from me.
He arched his eyebrow letting me know he caught me.
I continued my earlier sentence, ' and before that, I had finished a secretary course, after my high school'
, I mumbled, at last, knowing now where he led me.
'So, what you are saying is, you are a high school graduate with no work experience before this, is it correct?'
'Yes Mr. Sinclair'
'How did you get this job? Can you repeat it?’, he questioned his jaw flexing.
I didn't say before but realized not questioning him is probably for the best right now.
'I attended an interview'
'And this interview, how did you get to know about it? did you see it advertised somewhere?', he drawled, clearly letting me know what he thought about this interview.
'An old man told me about it', I said to my hands.
'Interesting. Again, how, may I ask you, an old man to know about this so-called interview?'
'I don't know, at that time I didn't question it', it would be like staring at a gift horse in the mouth, I thought, but don't say it out loud.
'Then let me clarify it for you, Ms. Anderson. Your old man is none other than Henry William Sinclair, one of the board members of this corporation, my Grandfather. Now Ms. Anderson, what connection does an old man, as you put it, has with you?'
'I don't understand. He is a board member? I don't know’, I said, my eyes bulging at that little titbit.
'I'm getting tired of your nonchalant answers', he sighed as if talking with me is taxing.
'Let me rephrase it, what kind of relationship do you have with my grandfather?'
'What kind of question is that?’, disgusted he can even ask a question like that.
'Is it not natural Ms. Anderson? When a helpless old guy lands a career for a young girl?'
'No Mr. Sinclair, it's not. I helped him when he collapsed on the side of the road. I checked him into the nearby hospital. He asked me for help. I didn't even know his name; how could I have known his position in this corporation?'
He arched his eyebrow again, as if not believing me. That eyebrow and I are going to have a serious conversation if this continues.
'Well, you sure left him with an impression that he created a position just for you'
My face must be red right now, what with suppressing my anger. Then I recalled how easy it had been at the interview, how my workload was always light except for these couple of months. Does it mean what he is saying is true? Oh god, it's like I ripped from an old man. I don't like that feeling.
'I don't know what to say, Mr. Sinclair. I walked into this corporation knowing I earned it through my interview. I wouldn't have taken it otherwise’, I said truthfully. A whole lot of good it did with his next statement.
' I could fire you right now Ms. Anderson’, he stated oh so calmly. I tensed realizing my situation.
'On what grounds, Mr. Sinclair?', I asked tentatively, all attitude gone.'I said I could, not would Ms. Anderson. Though I can say, we are cutting our most incompetent employees'Indirectly implying that I'm incompetent. I bristled at this suggestion.'You couldn't do that. I never gave any reason to. I'm competent. I always stay late. I complete the work given to me.''Exactly that Ms. Anderson, the work given to you, which is not much''It's not my fault I wasn't given much', I answered.'But it would be mine if I don't rectify this situation', he stated firmly.'What are you trying to say, Mr. Sinclair?''I'm not trying but stating the fact that you are on my payroll with nothing much to do. And I don't like that, at all.''Are you going to fire me?', I questioned directly, tired of the footsie we are playing here.'No Ms. Anderson''Then what?', I stared at him expectantly to no avail. One thing I foun
I stare at the screen trying to comprehend. This can't be true. There might be a mistake with the picture. I must go check with her. Shit, I don't even know where she lives. How pathetic that is. There is still no reply to my message. I don't have any other way of contacting her. I won't believe or rather I make myself not believe all that crap brewing on the screen. I must, the other option is too much for me to comprehend right now. I didn't get a lot of time to sort my emotions after our talk. I put everything in a metal cage in my mind. Now that box is about to burst. To divert me from the current event, I noted down the officer's name who is handling this case.I tore the paper after jotting down, took my keys and mobile, and left without even changing from my pj's. My mind is preoccupied with my sisters’ photos. They don't show any pictures of the body. I stopped hearing anything after I saw that photo.The street is bustling, and I join the fray, dreading
"he is dead Ms. Anderson', he stated proudly.'Dead? How?', mixed emotions churning inside me. Words swam around in my head, but none of them would coalesce to form complete sentences. I should be relieved that justice has been met, but I couldn't get myself to feel it. It's like it has been robbed and given to me. A ping of regret is also laced there for not getting to hit him myself.'I won't bore you with the details, suffice it to say that we found the trail leading to him. He tried to escape vigilantly, we are left with the option of shooting to constrain him, but unfortunately, we miscalculated. He died on the way to the hospital', he explained, showing me the details of the murderer.I read the file learning all the details that led to my sister’s death. He was obsessed with auburn hair. It all started with his cheating Wife who had auburn hair. He killed 4 girls before Sophie, all with the same hair color. He is just a psycho on a killing spree. I
Bracing myself I entered the office, ' Mr. Sinclair I can explain'Without my volition, my eyes flit over the contents on the desk. It is as immaculate as it can be.'Bring me the sales report for the January product. I want the finance team to set the estimated costs for the upcoming project. Make sure the Budget file is on my desk tomorrow. Also, a daily report on the progress of the project. I want it to be launched before the holiday season. Set a board meeting tomorrow. 'he says or rather rumbles.'What does your other assistant do?' I enquired listening to his demands.'Let me handle who works for me, Ms. Anderson. You are my indentured servant for as long as I want. Do not question me'I controlled the urge to not beat him over the head with my bag, no matter how much I might have liked to. Thoughts of quitting the job entered my mind, but I squashed it before it overtook my mind. He merely gave me a squinted look and continued,'Now,
'You got it!''No skin off my back''Did you get anything useful? What is in there?''Enough to put him behind the bars for 10 years''Yes!!’, I shouted.Looking at the displeasure radiating from the other patrons I mouthed sorry.'I would like to buy that file from you'He gave me a dirty look, shaking his head indicating ‘You want to go there?'I squirmed, 'What? I don't want it for free. No favors buddy'It’s already more than enough that Raphael is on my tail for currying favor from his Grandfather, I can't take it from Kade. Though Kade is nothing like Raphael.'How about a fight?', he finally answered after taking time thinking.'It's been 3 years since I entered a ring. It's safe to say that I'm a little rusty. Anyhow, in NY? When did you shift here?''2 years. Bought a bar. Join me whenever you're free', I raised my eyebrows hearing the name of the bar, wow, it's a cool plac
'Journeys end. Journeys end, wait a minute'He unfolded a paper and started reading,Journeys end in lovers meeting,Every wise man's son doth know.What is love? ‘It’s not hereafter;Present mirth hath present laughter;What's to come is still unsure:In delay there lies not plenty;Then, come kiss me, sweet and twenty,Youth's a stuff will not endure.(Note: it's written by Shakespeare)He bowed after completing, giving me a chance to notice what he is wearing.'Is that your mother's coat?''A gentleman never kisses and tells, though I appreciate your interest in my attire. It speaks of your wifely qualities', he said haughtily.I pinched the bridge of my nose, taking a Long breath. I said, 'First, you are a kid, KID, not a gentleman. Second, stop with wifely qualities, that's just ew. Lastly, why are you quoting Shakespeare to me?''You are offending my sensibiliti
I took it and tried not to bang the door on his face. I peeped in to see a dress from the boutique from the down floor. Wow, only Raphael Sinclair can blow the amount of my 2 months’ salary on a dress in 5 minutes. The material is so soft to my touch that I don't want to take it off me. Other than that, it hardly covers me, I don't know which is worse- his shirt or this dress. Both left nothing to the imagination.I'm not used to parading in the office in this kind of attire, it makes me feel exposed. Hmm, the other alternative is his shirt which if I Guess correctly, he won't be happy to part with. It's not about stinginess per se, more like being territorial about his things. If nothing I learned one or two titbits about him from these past couple of weeks. And trust me, Raphael Sinclair is extremely territorial. If only it extends to people. A girl can dream. Sigh.I opened the closet door collecting my ripped skirt (I won't say tattered. A girl should give re
By the time I get the mail, I'm tweaking the slides. I was so engrossed in preparing the slides it took 5 rings to pick up the phone.'Raphael Sinclair's office. How may I help you?'It is one of his more high-maintenance clients, who couldn't—or didn't want to—grasp the fact that he was currently in a meeting. By the time I wrapped up the phone call, all but signing away my firstborn on the promise that yes, he would call her back as soon as possible, I'm more than exhausted. I'm definitely underpaid for this job. It will serve him right if I send her a call through.At this rate, I would be fielding calls from his conquests in the near future. Though thinking about it, there was never such a call since I started.Note to self-indulge in office gossip related to Raphael Sinclair.I worked through the lunch finally wrapping up the presentation slides with an image of Butler bowing to his lord in the end. I will delete it before the actu