I walked down the hall to my closet and opened the drawer that I knew would house my gym shorts. I threw on a pair, pulled a shirt off of a hanger, and quickly dressed. A quick jog, a few burpees, bench press, and some deadlifts would be precisely what I needed. I worked out for an hour in the home gym until my body was fatigued enough for me to sleep well. As I walked through the house back to my room, the quiet consumed me and fostered a nest for thoughts.
When I had held Avery against me, it was much more pleasant than I thought it might be. And the last line, ‘I could kiss you’, had me wondering if she had some kind of sixth sense of what I actually had planned for her. I needed to find a way to make it all platonic, but it was difficult when I started thinking about her lips. She had worn lipstick tonight, it was obvious, but I didn’t realize that her natural color already looked as if she was. I came to realize that the first interview was Avery in the raw. Messy hair, big dark eyes, and full kissable lips. I shoved those thoughts in the back of my mind, trying to realign myself with my goals. Getting attached would be messy. And with a young woman like her? Especially so.
AVERY
Thursday meant another final in the evening. I had some time to kill before lunch with Mr. Crawford, and then it was study time. Since he was going to hire me, I decided I would use the morning to type out my letter of resignation to the library as well as a letter to the landlord stating my official withdrawal from the lease. Jess had already let me know that they found a potential replacement roommate when I came home last night so everything seemed to be falling into place.
I laid in bed, scrolling on my phone before having to get up to move around. I searched ‘Elijah Crawford’ again and a variety of his pictures popped up. He was so handsome. I studied his face, focusing on his eyes. I once read that eyes are the windows to a person’s soul. Every picture of him showed the same thing. His expression was practiced and picturesque, but there was something deeper to his gaze. Something borderline sad and lonely. I closed out the app as Jess came into the room fresh from a shower. I hopped up to go take my turn.
“I’ll make sure to wash the dress before I return it to you.”
She shook her head. “Keep it. Please. It looked great on you anyway.” Her smile was good. Sincere. Like it was making her genuinely happy to help someone out. I had never noticed it before, but that was the way she had always looked when offering something to me.
Her expression was infectious, and I found myself grinning in response. “Alright. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
I walked to the bathroom and turned the shower on as I stripped. Mr. Crawford’s driver would be here in an hour, and I had to make myself at least presentable.
With my letters all typed up and sent, I waited by the front window to watch for Mr. Crawford’s driver. He hadn’t given me any more information than that’s how I would arrive to have lunch with him. Who in the world even had a driver? Rich people. I suppose that made sense. Almost on the dot, a black SUV pulled into our driveway at 11:45am. I exited the house and made my way to the vehicle, a woman dressed in a suit hopping out and moving to open the door for me.
“Good morning, Ms. Mitts. My name is Amanda.”
“Nice to meet you, Amanda. You don’t have to get my door.” I moved to sit in the vehicle, and she simply smiled and nodded before closing the door after me.
Although Amanda was pleasant, she wasn’t very talkative. She delivered me to the building I had first entered on Tuesday, and I approached the reception desk again. The same woman as before was working behind the counter, and she ignored me as I walked up to her. I cleared my throat, but she simply held up a single finger while her eyes remained glued to the screen. I was going to be late again if she kept this up. I pulled out my phone and quickly typed out an email to Patricia that I was waiting in the lobby. She replied almost immediately, telling me to take the elevator to the top floor. I walked away from the counter.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
“I have an appointment with Mr. Crawford.”
“You need to wait for me to send you up. You can’t just walk around here like you own the place.”
I shrugged. What was her deal? “I’m not. But I don’t want to be late.”
“You can wait, or I’ll have security show you out. Your choice.”
I licked my lips and took a deep breath. I walked back over to the seats against one wall and I typed out another email to Patricia, explaining the situation. It wasn’t but a few moments later that the elevator pinged, and Mr. Crawford walked out. He smiled warmly at me and held up a finger as he veered off to the counter. The lady noticed him immediately and smoothed out her blouse before offering him her best smile.
“Ms. Simon, could you please enlighten me as to why Ms. Mitts is sitting down here in the lobby when she has an appointment with me?”
Her eyes darted over to me and then back to Mr. Crawford. She smiled nervously. “I wasn’t aware. She was just going to walk around in the building without any clearance.”
He leaned on the counter with a forearm resting on the granite. “Hm. Well, I was pretty sure I asked Patricia to give her clearance this morning. I’ll have to double check that email thread. In the meantime, I’ll send you an email following up that Ms. Mitts should have full clearance from this day on.”
Her eyes were wide, quite possibly with fear. “Yes, sir.”
“Good.” He turned and held an arm out in the direction of the elevator. “Ms. Mitts? Are you ready?”
“Yeah.”
He smiled and waited for me to approach him, and then placed a hand at the small of my back to lead me. Was this customary for business? I wasn’t familiar with these kinds of gestures, and it didn’t seem right. However, it did feel nice, and I didn’t want to tell him to remove his hand. I looked back at the receptionist, and she scowled at me. What a great start to my employment here.
Mr. Crawford’s office was a modest sized room on the top floor of the building. Tall windows lined two of the walls, much like the conference room, and the color scheme was warm, yet masculine. Mahogany furniture, deep reds, and oil paintings. It wasn’t what I had expected at all. I had imagined him going with the sleek clean white/black/greys look, and not something so warm and inviting. He motioned toward a table with two food containers, and I took a seat across from him. It looked like food he had brought from home.
“Did you cook this?”
“No. My cook made this. You’ll meet him soon if all goes as planned. Do you like salmon?”
I opened up the container and looked at the contents. I could smell garlic, miso, ginger, and even honey. There was a bed of quinoa and what looked like mixed roasted vegetables to the side. I started salivating as I breathed it in.
“I love salmon. This is great.” I didn’t wait to dig into the food, and barely registered that Mr. Crawford had so elegantly unfolded a napkin to lay across his lap before picking up a knife and fork to cut his food patiently.