by Grant, Bella
She sat down next to a man who was older than she was, and possibly had more experience, and she grew even more nervous. Her hands shook as she filled in her details. She glanced over at what the man was writing and saw that he had tons of experience. She sighed. What were the chances of her landing this job? She completed the form and handed it back to the receptionist, and slowly returned to her seat. One by one, they all walked into a room behind a thin brown door, and she grew anxious as the list of those waiting didn’t seem to get shorter; as more persons left, more walked through the door.
Finally Melody heard her name. “Excuse me,” she said to the receptionist. “How many people are you hiring for?”
The woman looked down and then turned to Melody. “Just one,” she answered.
“Thank you,” Melody said, wishing she hadn’t asked. Ignorance was bliss, and this was not blissful.
She walked to the room and was greeted by a panel of interviewers. Great! She didn’t anticipate this many people, and she answered her questions with as much alacrity as she could, appearing confident, though feeling quite the opposite. The competition had thrown her. She exited the room when it was over and felt like an anchor was strapped to her heart. She thanked the receptionist when she was leaving, who told her they would call her if she was accepted for the position.
She was dragging herself home when she heard her phone ring. Digging around inside her purse she found it on the last ring.
“This is Melody,” she responded.
“This is Stanford and Brooks; we have received your application and we are inviting you for an interview. Can you come in at two today?” The woman asked.
Melody checked her watch. “I can, thank you,” she whispered.
“See you then,” she said, and hung up.
Yet another call for an interview, this time in a few hours’ time, and Melody hoped this would be more promising than the last. She retraced the steps that brought her to the bus stop and waited impatiently. She got to the office in thirty minutes, only to be greeted with the same picture as the one before. There were several persons already waiting to be interviewed, some she had already been interviewed.
The process was the same, and she endured the length of it once more, not feeling any more positive than the earlier. By the time she got home, she was both mentally and physically tired, and she passed out on the bed, drained from the sun that had beaten down on her mercilessly as she walked home. She rested now, her mind still searching for that one break that she needed even in her sleep.
The days that followed only bore more frustration, to the point where Melody was no longer excited when her phone rang. She had even stopped checking her emails, seeing only spam and promotional information from newsletters and magazines. Every now and again she would see the occasional advertisement for jobs, but what was the use? She had applied to every job there was for at least a mile in every direction from where she lived, and some even further. The only place left for her to check was out of state, and that was something she knew she could not afford, not with the moving expenses involved.
She reluctantly answered her phone when it rang one more time, but when she saw who the caller was, she perked up somewhat. “Hey, Crystal.”
“Hi Mel, what’s going on?”
“Absolutely nothing. Have you gotten a job yet? The search is killing me.”
“I have, but then we did have different interests. You just have to keep looking, that’s all,” she encouraged her.
“I went for two interviews the other day and the places resembled flea markets; there were so many interviewees it would be a miracle to get in.”
“Well, miracles do happen,” Crystal said. “I’ll come and see you as soon as I get settled, but in the meantime, cheer up. I just thought I’d call and see if you’d had any luck; I know you’ve been worried about it.”
But cheering up seemed harder to do as the days dragged on. She lazed around the house for the remaining week, trying to find things to do to preoccupy her mind. It was only then that she paused to think about Mark and what he might be doing now. She hadn’t spoken with him since their breakup and she wondered if he would want to talk with her. Right now, anything was worth the distraction from her dwindling funds. She hadn’t even kept in touch with anyone since college, and she was beginning to feel that she needed to be out more, socializing; but that also cost money. Everything she could think of cost money, and she couldn’t take it anymore. There was only one stop she hadn’t made in all her runs and that was at the local strip club. She now entertained that idea with as much desperation as a drowning man would hang onto a straw. She checked her watch, and realized it was minutes after three in the evening. What better time to visit those places? Sure, she wasn’t an experienced dancer, but she could always start off as a waitress and learn. Besides, the tips they gave in those places were incredible. Or so she had heard.
She took a deep breath inwards, mentally calculated her savings, and was about to leave when she heard her phone ring. She hesitated, wondering if this would be another call for a job where she would have to fight neck and neck with a hundred people before she could be considered. Dreading what she’d hear, she walked over to the telephone, suddenly thinking it an unnecessary expense, and answered. As she’d suspected, it was another call from another of the businesses where she’d applied.She accepted the invitation, and something within her moved, so that she decided she would no longer visit the club. At least not this evening. Maybe she would tomorrow if this next interview turned out to be a fluke. PC Innovations had better be her beacon at the top of the hill.
CHAPTER 4 - MELODY
The following morning did not bring with it any renewed hope of landing a job, and Melody’s excitement and spirit had waned over the course of the last month. She was wearing the same white suit she had to the first interview, classifying it as her official interview suit. She stepped outside and felt the slight chill of the crisp air, and she shivered slightly. She did not plan on hailing a cab this time, as the company was only three blocks away. She left early instead, giving herself enough time to walk the distance slowly without ruining her makeup with sweat.
When she got to the office, she grew a lot more confident when she realized that there wasn’t any competition here that she could see. Her hopes were suddenly lifted, and she held her head higher in confidence. She was asked to take a seat and wait for the Director. Melody surveyed the office and noticed the various hangings on the wall as she waited. It was a handsome office, and she had no doubt she would love working here. She envisioned herself sitting in one of the cubicles she spotted to her right, and she took the time to analyze the faces of the other employees—her potential co-workers. There was one in particular who was wearing spectacles, and who couldn’t seem to concentrate. He kept looking at her time and again, and Melody smiled at him once. He blushed and held his head down immediately, only venturing to look when he thought she wasn’t watching.
She sat there for fifteen minutes, growing more nervous by the second. Finally, she saw a woman approach her, and she stood as she neared her.
“You are here for the interview?” She asked her.
“Yes Ma’am. Personal assistant,” Melody answered, making her answer as short as possible.
The woman gave her a strange look and then walked over to the receptionist. They whispered a few words between them, and rifled through some papers, before the woman turned once more to Melody. “Melody Mitchell?”
“That would be correct,” Melody said, not sure how she should be feeling now.
“Please come with me,” the woman told her.
Melody followed her to a room off of a short passageway and entered a warm conference area. The woman motioned for her to sit. “Miss Mitchell, we were looking for a personal assistant to Phillip Conway; he is the owner of this establishment and a very busy man. He is always travelling, and is never able to keep a record of his own affairs, so we
needed someone to work with him.”
The entire time the woman spoke; there was only one thing that Melody noticed: she was speaking in the past tense. She waited still for what she was building up to, and hoped she would still get a job.
“I am sorry, Miss Mitchell, but somewhere it seems there was some mix up with the files. The receptionist is also new, and she didn’t realize we had already chosen someone for the job when she called you. We are sorry for this inconvenience to you, but we are willing to reimburse you any expense you may have incurred in getting here, as well as for your time, of course.”
She handed Melody a check for two hundred dollars, and though her heart was broken, and she was a proud woman, she was also broke. And that also meant that this man must be wealthy. She took the check from the woman and thanked her, her smile barely hiding the imminent flow of tears.
She got up then and managed to shake the woman’s hand before walking back to the front. Pity, she thought, as she glanced back at the spectacled man inside the cubicle; they could have been friends. She waved to him and he did the same as she hurried outside and into the comforts of the pavement. The tears were now officially freed, and they didn’t hesitate to gallop down her cheeks: too many and too hard to contain. Not wanting anyone to witness her in this state, she held her head down and started rummaging inside her purse for some tissue. She was starting to curse to herself about the fact that nothing turned up in a woman’s handbag that she needed at any given time; they always seemed to be at the bottom.
So blinded was she by tears and frustration that she didn’t see where she was going until she felt a figure loom above her, and by the time she could make sense of it, she felt something warm on her stomach and saw the white on her outfit turn to brown patches. She could smell coffee and she looked up now as she staggered. The man grabbed onto her hand to catch her from falling as she flashed her hands and made a wailing sound as she thought of her new suit that was now ruined. She looked up at him then, mad and intent on lashing out at him for the mess he had made, but she felt him holding her still, and what replaced her feelings of anger when she turned to look at his muscular hand on her arm was totally unexpected. She should be infuriated still, but her skin only burned with desire as she thought of throwing herself fully into his capable arms, and feeling his solid embrace as he crushed her against his chest. She’d never felt this way with Mark - she blushed heavily.
Melody couldn’t bear to think of the stranger in such a manner, and she broke away from his hold on her, albeit a temporary one. Focusing on her dress instead of her embarrassment, she began patting the spot on her blouse, a look of dejection overcoming her again. She looked up at him then, and she couldn’t even find the strength to be angry at him as she cursed herself mentally for being so needy.
PHILLIP’S STORY
CHAPTER 5 - PHILLIP
Phillip hastened across the street, trying to get to a meeting at his office. He tired sometimes of the constant conferences, and many times he wished he had someone who could properly oversee his affairs. He had recently asked for a personal assistant at the office, and he had yet to meet the young woman, but aside from the office, he was on the board of numerous organizations and charity institutions; he was also a member at the country club where he hardly ever got a chance to visit. It was becoming a busy life, and he was not getting any younger. Somehow he needed to get a wife in there; then, maybe, going home would not seem as laborious at times.
He rounded the bend and entered the stretch of pavement lined with several offices. His was closer to the other end, and just when he was about ten steps off, his phone began to ring. He still held the half cup of coffee he was drinking; he had only just bought it across the street when he got the call, and it tasted so good that he didn’t want to throw it out so he just opted to take it with him. Now he balanced the cup in his hand as he tried to get the phone from the inside pocket of his blazer. He found that was useless as he needed both hands; the blazer kept flapping in the wind and prevented him from reaching it. He decided to grip the cup with his teeth so that he could have the use of both hands. He was still walking all this time, and as he held his head down, he was unable to see the woman right in front of him until he ran into her. The sudden impact caused him to lose control of the cup and the thing tipped over, making a mark like an inkblot test all over the front of her outfit. White, of course.
The phone now forgotten, Phillip caught the cup before the entire contents were emptied on her, and reached out immediately to steady her. He removed the cup from his lips with the other hand and as she looked into his eyes, and he could tell she was crying. He had an overbearing sense then to take her in his arms and kiss her, trying to right whatever wrong could have happened to sully the beauty he saw there.
“My apologies,” he finally managed to say as she shook herself away from him, and even in so doing he detected a slight blush on her cheeks, and he wondered as to the nature of it. She stood there staring at the mess on her clothes and the tears started flowing even more. She didn’t answer him, but kept rummaging in her bag until she found some tissue that she was apparently searching for to dry the tears already pouring out.
“You ruined my outfit,” she lamented when she was finally able to speak.
“I’m sorry,” he said again. “I should have been more careful. But let me make it up to you, please.”
“I’m afraid there’s nothing you can do now,” she told him. “This just highlights my day and the fact that it cannot get any worse, unless a piano falls from the sky and crushes me.”
He looked up just then and made two steps back, pretending to sidestep the figurative falling piano. He detected a smile from her, as slight as it was, when he did so. He came forward again and tried once more to reach out to her. “Your day may not be able to get any worse, but it sure can get better. Let me make it up to you, please. I won’t feel better until you accept. And please, let me reimburse you for the outfit. I think I permanently ruined it.”
She looked down at the mess and shook her head. “I would want to agree with that. And I loved it so, though it didn’t give me any luck today” she pouted.
“See? Come on, what do you say?” He pressed.
“Oh, alright. It’s just coffee, right? But I need to get out of these clothes soon.”
Phillip smiled as he made a sweeping motion, much like a prince, and allowed her to pass. He had wasted his delicious coffee when it stained her top, so he had no qualms about going back to the restaurant and getting another. Whoever was calling him would have to wait. He watched her as she walked ahead of him, how delicate she appeared, and he wondered where she was from. She had a nice petite body with a low cut bob, and her hair was as black as a raven’s. Her grey eyes were stunning, and he agreed with Mother Nature now that she was wonderfully made. Another woman might have slapped him across the face, but this beautiful creature had decided to have coffee with him instead, and he relished the moment, fully intending to explore the emotions that were now surfacing.
When he had touched her, it was as if electricity had coursed through his veins, and he wanted nothing more now than to feel that soft tender body beneath his own as he explored the crevices and corners along her ivory skin. Her hips swished now, tantalizing and provoking him even further, and he was grateful when they got to the entrance and the glass doors prevented him from throwing her over his shoulders and running off with her to a grassy meadow somewhere.
He indicated a table to the back of the establishment that was next to the window, and gently touched her waist as he led her there. It seemed every touch was like fire, and he quickly removed his hand lest his heart get scorched. “You have to try the coffee here,” he advised her.
“You mean the same coffee I’m now wearing?” She teased, but already didn’t look as upset as she had moments before.
“Yes, that very one. Such a waste,” he added, and smiled at her.
The waitress came alon
g and she ordered the coffee and a sandwich, and he did the same, not wanting her to eat alone. He watched her as she sipped it, and then waited for her assessment. “Good, isn’t it?”
“This is lovely,” she said, even while she forced herself to pull away from the cup; or so it seemed to him, for she didn’t pause long before getting back to it. She drank the entire cup before she even looked at the sandwich, and he wondered if she was hungry at all. His phone started ringing again, and this time he removed it and turned it off.
“That could be important,” she said to him.
“They can wait,” he smiled. “Right now I have a lady I must thoroughly apologize to.”
She blushed at his words, and he could tell his charms were already bearing fruit. She did get to eat her sandwich, and he sat there, still sipping his coffee, not making her fully aware of how intently he was watching her. He would have her, one way or another, and if that day wasn’t today, then it wouldn’t be too far off.
CHAPTER 6- PHILLIP
She looked like she couldn’t be more than twenty-five, and her face was marred with worry lines that ran across her brows; he wondered what could have made her so distressed, and what she was crying about on the pavement a short while ago. He longed to ask her, but he felt he had done enough damage, and he didn’t want to rehash her misfortune.
“It is so freaking hard in this town for a young educated woman to land a job,” she began, and he was grateful that she had broached the subject at all.
“That’s what the tears are for?” He asked.
She stirred the half cup of coffee that sat in front of her, her second so far. She seemed caught up in the swirling motion, and he reached out his hand to tap her on the wrist. “Hello?”