Chapter 3 - Layla Prime

Layla POV

“Are you shitting me right now?” I curse out loud as I look in the full-body mirror to see that I ripped my favorite tights all the way from the toes to the middle of my thighs. “Argh,” I said in frustration before taking them off again and throwing them into the trash.

I walk back to the drawers where my lingerie and tights are. I open the middle drawer and start moving around, looking for another one, but I can’t find any. “Fucking great,” I curse, walking out of my room and knocking next door into Jo’s room.

“Jo, open up,” I say as I pound on the door, and she opens it, one eye still closed and messy hair in front of her face.

“Who died?” she asks, and I walk past her into the bedroom.

“Hey, Leo,” I say as I walk past the bed and into the small closet she has at the end of her room.

“Hey, Layla,” Leo says, pulling his head out of the covers and watching me walk around in his girlfriend’s bedroom half-naked.

“What are you looking for?” Jo asks before she jumps back in bed and cuddles up to Leo. That has his eyes on me the entire time.

“I need these,” I say, holding her opaque dark black tights in my hand, and she nods.

“Hiding those legs, I see,” Leo says, and I flip him the bird before walking back into my room and closing the door before I go back to getting dressed. Today is my first day at the new job, and I can’t just show up showing my full legs tattoos. Unfortunately, having full-body tattoos is still not great in the corporate world.

I look at my reflection in the mirror, simple makeup with bright red lipstick. A dress that hugs my curves in all the right places and accentuates my prominent breasts. I tied my platinum blond hair into a sleek ponytail. The reflection made me smile. I grab everything else I need just before ordering an Uber.

Walking into the building, I can feel butterflies move in my stomach. I look around and don’t think I will ever get used to this luxury. They covered even the reception area of the building in marble. Everything is so sophisticated. I have never worked in a place like this.

I walk to the desk and politely wait to be acknowledged, but the girl behind the reception desk keeps her eyes on the computer, typing away while answering someone on her earpiece.

“Hi, Excuse me,” I say, but the girl raises her hand, stopping me, and I see red. If there’s something I don’t stand, it is when someone shoves their hand in my face, asking me to shut up. I smack her hand away, and her eyes meet mine, and I beam.

“I am here for Mr. Ashford,” I say, and her eyes almost come out of their sockets as she looks at me. I roll my eyes, changing the weight from one leg to another as she types again on her phone.

“Ashford Media, please hold,” she says before grabbing a magnetic card and giving it to me. “Thirtieth floor,” she says, and I smile, grabbing the card from her and following the sea of people that walk towards the elevators.

I stand behind a group of people waiting for the elevator, and when the doors open, everyone moves. I move to the back of the elevator, almost resting my back against the icy wall.

“Excuse me, can you please press number thirty please?” I ask, and the woman looks me up and down and clicks her tongue before pressing the button. I watch as she grabs her phone from her bag and starts typing a text straight away.

Everyone leaves the elevator on their floors, and I am the only one left, and when the doors open, I see Esther waiting for me with a broad smile on her face.

“Layla, I’m glad you’re here,” she says as she guides me through the corridor that is full of double doors until we reach a white room with windows from floor to ceiling. I can see the statue of liberty from here, and I can’t help but let a “wow” come out of my lips.

“This is beautiful,” I say, and Esther smiles as she guides me to the small room where we can leave our belongings.

“No cell phones allowed during work times,” Esther says, and I nod, grabbing my phone and typing a quick text to Jo, “Phones not allowed. I’ll message during lunch,” and I hit send. I shove it into my fake Celine bag and smile at Esther.

“Today is a good day for you to start, Richard. I mean, Mr. Ashford is out all week. He had to go to London”, she says, and I smile. Esther guides me through the floor, showing me around all the small offices and meeting rooms, the copy room, and the small cafeteria area, where we have a massive fridge, but the only food there is Esther’s.

“Make sure to bring something easy and quick to eat, and you will always have to eat while working, Ri… Mr. Ashford doesn’t like us away from our desk long”, she says, and I nod. Packed lunch it is from now on.

“Sure, no problem,” I say just before the phone starts ringing, and Esther gives me a headpiece like hers just before she answers the phone.

“Richard Ashford office, how can I help?” she asks, and I take notes on the small notepad she gave me. I expected technology to be used here, so I could do things faster, but I have to accept that they do everything by hand.

At the end of the day, I leave the office, and I have to say I am enjoying the job. There’s always something to do, and I know it will never bore me like I was at my previous job. I never felt challenged there, and Esther said that I might be able to hire some help. Mr. Ashford doesn’t look at expenses when it’s making his employees work better and give their best.

“Taxi,” I shout, lifting my hand, and one stops right in front of me. I open the door and give him my address. The driver rolls his eyes, and I know what he is thinking. Just great driving to Brooklyn. I am so tired that I can’t even begin to think how I would feel if I took the subway.

“Finally,” Jo says as I walk into the house. I look at her, raising my eyebrow, and she passes me a glass of wine.

“How was it? Did you meet him?” she asks, making me shake my head. I know that Jo has been following everything about the Ashford brothers on the media since I can remember; that’s why she is so excited for me to work there. She has a massive crush on Frederick Ashford. He is a New York ranger, and she is utterly obsessed with him.

“I don’t think I will ever meet him, Jo. He doesn’t work there. He is just my boss’s brother”, I say, and she rolls her eyes, flopping on the couch and resting her feet on the coffee table.