After sliding into the clothes I bought with Jess yesterday and finding my black stilettos, I slip back into the bathroom to finish getting ready. Jess is still in the shower when I begin to fix my hair. It’s four inches shorter than yesterday, and for once, my chocolate waves don’t argue with the brush. This is a first. I know it’s more professional to wear it up, but the way the light shines on my hair, perfect and beautiful, I decide to wear it down. I apply my makeup, not too heavy and not too light. If nothing else, my mother blessed me with a blemish-free complexion. I add my eye liner and a touch of mascara to make my brown eyes less ordinary, then apply lip gloss. I’m ready for this. I look it. I feel it. I’m ready even if my damned nerves don’t think so.
“You look stunning, girl!” Jess says stepping out of the shower wrapping her sun-kissed golden skin in a white towel. “You’re going to knock them dead today.”
“I hope so. I’m nervous as hell. I’m only used to schlubbing around while cleaning other people’s homes, not working for a big company. What if I’m no good?” I lock my nervous eyes with hers in the mirror.
“Sam, I promise you have this. Just be yourself. They’ll love you,” she says in her usual peppy manner.
I turn my stare toward my own caramel brown eyes in the mirror, pulling my shoulders back in hopes that confidence manifests itself. “You’re right. I’ve got this.” As much as I wish it, I don’t feel strong or confident.
_________________________
“You ready?” Jess asks excitedly as we approach the tall slate colored office building, the sound of our heels echoing off the pavement around us.
“About as ready as I’m going to be,” I glance toward her.
She shakes her head laughing, “I’ve never seen you so nervous. This is hilarious. I should have recorded this to blackmail you later in life.”
I grin devilishly at her, deciding not to remind her how nervous she was on her first day here over a year ago. She cried most of the night before, eating a tub of chocolate ice cream. You would have thought she had broken up with her long-term boyfriend.
I swallow the lump in my throat as I pull open the glass door, heading into the building. “This is it,” I mumble under my breath, nervous for my first day and excited for the career of a lifetime.
The receptionist’s desk, accompanied by a blue WESTON logo behind it, presents itself first as we enter the white marble lobby. The room is full of red and cream furniture accented with abstract paintings on the light sand colored walls. I’ve never been one to appreciate art, so I’m sure I can’t pronounce the artist’s name. Move a few paint brushes around to make squiggly lines, and voila, apparently you have something worth money.
“Good morning, Jess,” says the petite receptionist with soft eyes and a warm smile. Her hair is pulled tightly into a ponytail that I know is giving her a free facelift.
“Hey, Liz. This is Samantha. She’s going to be working with Adam.”
Liz flicks her soft eyes toward me, her perfect white teeth now showing. “Hi, Samantha,” she throws her overly peppy voice at me. “I hope you enjoy it here. Good luck.” Ugh. I need more coffee to be that peppy this early in the morning.
“Thanks, Liz. It’s nice to meet you.” I try hard to match her cheeriness, but the little bit of coffee I’ve managed hasn’t bled into my veins yet and I fail miserably.
“I’ll show you the way to Adam’s office,” Jess says, leading me toward the stainless steel elevators.
The elevator chimes announcing its arrival, and the doors slide open to a small group that seem to be rolling with their everyday motions. Impassive expressions and stiff shoulders…they need coffee too apparently. Only the man smiles to greet us as we step in. The women never acknowledge us. Bitches.
“You okay?” Jess whispers.
“Yeah. First day jitters, that’s all.” I inhale and release it slowly, trying to shake the nerves.
“Nothing to be nervous about. Everyone here is awesome to work with. Of course things can get a little tense when Mr. Weston walks the halls, but it’s not that often,” she says, checking her blonde bun for tightness.
My eyes widen, practically bulging out of their sockets, as panic jumps through me. Jess notices and bursts out laughing, smacking my arm and attracting the other passengers’ sideways glances. “Sam, his office is in the building. Of course he walks around checking on things.”
Way to make me feel like a winner, Jess.
“Well, you failed to mention that,” I glare at her.
“Oh, Belle, you over-think things too much. I’ve been here for a year and I’ve only met him a handful of times, each being very brief. He’s a very nice man,” she says, trying to calm me with the nickname she gave me in high school. She always said I had southern belle charm with clear skin, great manners, and an award-winning smile. Not long after I was graced with my nickname, I gave her one. Boots. In high school she always wore these boots that were a mix between biker and stripper. You couldn’t pry them off of her feet if you tried. I bet you could have offered her a million dollars, and she wouldn’t have taken it. They looked good on her, but they were an everyday, every outfit thing.
We approach two tall black doors with the WESTON logo above them, “Well, here we are,” she motions with her briefcase. “Good luck, girl. Adam is a pretty cool guy.” She hugs my neck and before turning back to the elevators, she winks at me.
I give her a weak, nervous smile and a small wave. Turning back to the black doors, I take a deep breath. I’ve never been as nervous and excited as I am right now.
Chapter 3
“Hi. I’m Samantha Beckman,” I state to the sandy blonde lady with warm hazel eyes in a red sleeveless blouse behind the tall desk.
“Hello, Miss Beckman,” she says with a forced smile, “Mr. Blakelock is waiting for you. Please follow me.” She’s definitely not as peppy as Liz. Maybe she needs more coffee too?
She leads me down a short hall and through another set of tall doors into an office that looks similar to the front lobby. Yet this one isn’t as large. The red and cream furniture, the light sand walls, and the abstract paintings all match the ones down stairs. There’s an empty black desk with a lonely computer monitor on the side and a cup full of pens. There’s a door on the opposite wall with Adam Blakelock engraved into it. It dawns on me that I’m looking at my office, my little impersonal office. I’ll have to make some changes. Maybe a few pictures or one of those funny Maxine calendars will add some personality to it.
The lady goes to the door and knocks twice before sticking her head into the office. “Excuse me, sir, Miss Beckman has arrived.”
“Send her in,” a rough disembodied voice says from behind the door.
As I enter, I’m in awe of the luxurious view complete with floor to ceiling windows overlooking the skyline of Charlotte. Staring back at me is the famous Carolina blue sky with soft white clouds scattered behind the tall buildings. His office is large and I’m impressed by the dark grey carpet that squishes under my heels. I’ve never been into an office that has actual carpet. He has a black leather couch on one side of the room and a book shelf with several books and trophies on the other. His deep cherry wood desk sits in front of the windows so his back is toward the skyline, allowing his visitors the spectacular view.
“Miss Beckman, I’m Adam Blakelock.” He stands from behind his desk, his bright green eyes sparkling with the shine of the sun blazing through the windows, and extends his hand for me to shake. Short ink black hair tops his head with enough gel in it to give it a jagged look. A perfectly fitting navy suit with a pale blue shirt under it covers his slender build.
“Hi, Mr. Blakelock.” I smile and shake his hand, my voice forced with confidence, but my insides are shaking from nerves.
“Call me Adam,” he replies, sitting down with an apologetic smile. “Miss Beckman, unfortunately I have a meeting in ten minutes and I’m unable to show you to your desk.” He looks over my shoulder behind me, “Dana, please show Miss Beckman to her desk.”
“Yes sir,” her voice materializes. Hell, I didn’t know she was still in here.
“Miss Beckman, welcome. I’m glad to have you.”
“Thank you, sir.” I say and head out the office with Dana leading the way.
I spend most of the morning getting situated at my desk with my computer, making some calls to the IT department to set up passwords and such. Dana gives me a cheat sheet, as she calls it, of all the extensions in the building along with her quick explanation of how to answer and transfer calls. This ought to be fun trying to remember all the directions she just unloaded on me. Push this button for this result, or push this other button for something else to happen. Wonder how many times I’ll screw it up? She also gives me a tour of our section of the office and to my relief, the break room is just a few steps down the hall where I’ll be able to feed my coffee addiction quick.
Adam enters the office from his morning meeting still looking perfectly groomed. I’m guessing his meetings aren’t brutal like the ones I’ve seen on television.
“Miss Beckman, have you gotten all settled in?” he stops in front of my desk with a genuine smile.
“Yes, sir. Dana has done an exceptional job of showing me all I need to know and getting me up to speed with everything. Is there anything I can do for you, sir?” Great, I sound like a suck-up.
“There is, come with me please.” He signals me to follow him and I hurry in behind him to his office.
“Miss Beckman,” he motions for me to sit in the chair in front of his desk as he shrugs out of his jacket. He sits down in his chair, and leans his elbows on the desk, “do you mind if I call you Samantha? I like to be on a first name basis with my co-workers and if you are going to be my assistant, saying Miss Beckman all the time will have me tongue tied more than I already am,” he chuckles.
“Actually, sir, please call me Sam. When I hear Samantha, I feel like I’m in trouble.”
“Sam it is. Even better now that it’s shorter. Hopefully, I will not have to utilize the full name often.” His phone rings and he moans, irritated at it. “Excuse me, Sam.”
He looks so young to be in such a powerful position in the company. He doesn’t look a day over thirty even with the stubble on his face. On his desk in a light tan frame is a picture of him with his arm around the waist of a busty blonde. They look happy together as they smile at each other with the sun setting behind them on a beautiful beach.
“Sorry ‘bout that, Sam,” he says, snapping me away from the picture. His demeanor is stiffer than just moments prior, and now I wish I had listened to the conversation. “I hate to throw you out to the wolves, but I need a few things typed up for my meetings this afternoon.” He hands me several documents with blue ink scribbled all over them, “Correct these for me. Also, I forgot my portfolio in the conference room on the third floor. Run and grab it for me please.”
I leave and find my way to the conference room, grabbing Adam’s brown leather portfolio off the mahogany table. I return to the elevators happy that they were still on the floor so my wait wasn’t long. I examine my appearance in the mirror-like walls, and I’m pleased. Although I feel like a mess, I don’t look like one. My hair is cooperating, my chocolate waves still shining, and my make-up still looks flawless.
I take a step to the side when the elevator chimes, stopping on the fifth floor. The doors open to the most gorgeous man I’ve ever laid eyes on. He’s a tall, dark brown haired angel wearing a perfectly tailored charcoal grey suit with a crisp white shirt and a grey striped tie with his hands in his pockets. His clean shaven, chiseled jawline shifts slightly when his lips curl into a sexy knowing smile, creating dimples that ignite an ache between my legs. My breath catches at the most mesmerizing set of azure blue eyes piercing into me. This man knows his eyes are capable of giving women multiple orgasms with just one look, and he’s not afraid to use them.
He steps in giving me a slight nod. “New here?” he asks, his voice silky.
I blink, realizing I’ve just been busted staring…at his mouth, his eyes, his drop dead gorgeous face. He probably thinks I’m a creep. Before I can answer, the smell of his woodsy mandarin cologne mixed with soap engulfs my body provoking succulent thoughts. It’s enticing and sexy, and I want it all over me and my sheets.
“Yes, sir,” I say on unsteady legs.
“Welcome to the company. I’m sure I’ll see you around.” He smirks as he exits the elevator, knowing damn good and well what he’s doing. The heat that spread throughout my body, I now feel on my cheeks.
I say nothing. I can’t. My poor brain can’t form words. My lungs hurt from the lack of oxygen, and my mouth is slack jawed. Dammit.
I finally make my way back to my desk after dropping off Adam’s portfolio. He was on the phone again, so there was no time for small talk which was good. I’m still trying to clear my head of the man on the elevator. I wish I had come to my senses and spoken to him. Maybe I would have gotten his name so I could ask Jess about him.
“So, how do you like it so far?” Adam asks standing in front of my desk.
“So far it’s good. I finished your documents just a little bit ago.” I hand the retyped papers to him.
“Good. I’m off to my afternoon meetings, so this will be the last time we speak today. I’m sure Dana went over everything with you, but tomorrow my schedule is more flexible. I’d like to arrange a time to go over some detailed information and review my requirements of you.”