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“The P.A.?” she asks in a hoarse voice.
“Um, I got interviewed for the vacancy of an editor. It didn't say P.A. here,” I respond, looking through some papers in my bag.
“Oh,” she smiles. “I’m correct, it's the P.A. Come with me.”
Before I can argue any further, she starts to walk to another end of the room.
“You’re the boss’ assistant and I am afraid you are late,” she says bluntly as she hands me a tablet.
“So, where is the boss?”
“Not here.” She settles into a seat and stares back at me. “He’ll be here soon, and you should be here two hours before he arrives.”
I roll my eyes, waiting for any kind of instruction as I look around.
How exactly do I fit in here?
“Your desk is over here.” She points to the cubicle next to her, and I reluctantly walk over and take my seat.
Walking in here today feels like stepping into a job where everyone is a chapter ahead in a book I haven’t even started reading.
Men and women in sharp suits move with purpose as their confident strides echo down the pristine corridor. I, on the other hand, feel a little out of place in my simple skirt and polka-dotted blouse.
As I sit confused at my desk, I can’t help but notice the air of competence that hangs in the room like an invisible halo.
Everyone seems to effortlessly multi-task, typing away in their sleek laptops while engaging in conference calls or discussing projects in hushed tones.
The atmosphere in the office shifts, with a wave of alertness spreading throughout the room when the boss walks in.
The chatter stops and the clatter of keyboards mellows as all eyes turn toward the imposing figure, including me.
For a second there, I swear I’m hallucinating.
That face is easy to recognize anywhere, even in the darkest of rooms.
As he approaches his office, his doorkeeper scrambles to his feet, ready to usher him in.
He turns to acknowledge the staff with a nod and a brief smile, and I almost fall off my chair.
Jayden!
His hair, a tousled mane of rich, chestnut brown, with sun-kissed highlight, shimmers like polished mahogany in the bright light.
It has a wild, untamed quality, each strand seeming to rebel against confinement.
With broad shoulders held back, he moves with the easy confidence of a man who knows the power of his presence.
Why is this happening to me? I mean, what are the odds that you unknowingly sleep with your boss the night before your first day?
I cover my face with the tablet in my hand while he looks around.
Don’t let him see me, I pray silently.
“What are you doing?” the older lady asks. I glance at her name tag. ‘Pamela’
“You should be running in there after him.”
When do I ever get a full day of my happiness to myself?
