far, and it could only
get better right?
I took a wonderfully hot shower while
the coffee brewed in the kitchen. I emerged from the steam, wiped
off the mirror with my hand and stared at myself. I had come to not
even recognize the person looking back at me, and it wasn’t a bad
thing. It was a welcome change from the melancholy person that
always gazed back at me, now I saw a happy, strong woman, and I
could hold my head up high. The worries of being in the shadows of
my family were lifting and I felt new and revived.
I dried my hair, and styled my strands
in a half up, half down do for the day, and then went to the
closet. A black pencil skirt was the foundation of the ensemble,
and the navy blue puff sleeve top matched perfectly with it. I
threw on a pair of three inch suede pumps, and went back to the
bathroom to apply makeup.
When I finished I looked once again
into the mirror, I was satisfied with what I saw. My clothes didn’t
scream “slutty secretary” but had substance that held their
own.
I loaded up my travel mug with java,
grabbed my purse, and was out the door by seven a.m.
There was already a cab waiting at the
curb, and one glance at Harold told me it was his doing. I gave him
a wink of appreciation, and climbed into the car.
When I reached the building that I
would be working in I sighed. “Here goes nothing…or everything.” I
said under my breath.
Crossing the lobby, I could see the
hustle and bustle of others like me, making their way to work for
the day. I walked to the directory on the wall, and found that I
would take the elevator to the Sixteenth floor. I hopped on board
with about twenty other people and began the ascent.
Nervousness slid over me when the doors
opened on my floor; here I was someone who previously hob knobbed
with celebrities and even got whipped by Bill Gates at
Chess.
I put one foot in front of the other,
and walked through a menacing set of glass doors. I found myself in
front of a reception desk, behind it sat a girl that looked no more
than twenty-one. My Mother always told me “Never judge a woman’s
age, just ask for her plastic surgeons number”. I let out a giggle
at the recollection.
“Um can I help you?” She said with a
grimace.
“Yes, I’m Emily Mills, here to see Mr.
Brewster.”
“Have a seat over there.” she pointed
to a row of chairs, “I’ll let him know you’re here.”
It wasn’t long, and a man in his
forties greeted me. “Hello Emily, I’m Eric Brewster, follow
me.”
“Okay thank you.” I said
politely.
“We have had a change of plans in the
office, my secretary Molly went into labor this weekend, so you
will be working with me instead of with the interns.”
“Sounds great.”
“From your resume you have experience
in the law field, which will come in handy, as Molly was a
paralegal.” He stated.
“Yes sir, I studied law at NYU, I will
be more than happy to assist you.”
“Assisting would be putting it lightly
Miss Mills, there will be occasions I will need you in court with
me, and you will be asked to stay late if the need arises.” He said
firmly.
“That shouldn’t be a problem
sir.”
“Good, this is your desk, I will have a
new laptop delivered this afternoon, is there anything else you
will need?”
“No this will be fine, thank
you.”
“I expect you to take a lunch break
promptly at 11:30 each day, if you leave the office, I expect you
to be gone no more than one hour, is that clear?”
“Yes it is.”
“I run a very tight operation around
here Miss Mills; there will be no social influences where I am
concerned. We keep things professional at this firm, and there will
be no room whatsoever for your personal life here.”
“I understand.”
“Good, now if you excuse me I have a
meeting.”
He turned and walked down
the hallway, and I felt like a child that had been scolded.
Obviously this prick had been reading gossip magazines, and
watching too much television. Damn it, I just wanted a
get better right?
I took a wonderfully hot shower while
the coffee brewed in the kitchen. I emerged from the steam, wiped
off the mirror with my hand and stared at myself. I had come to not
even recognize the person looking back at me, and it wasn’t a bad
thing. It was a welcome change from the melancholy person that
always gazed back at me, now I saw a happy, strong woman, and I
could hold my head up high. The worries of being in the shadows of
my family were lifting and I felt new and revived.
I dried my hair, and styled my strands
in a half up, half down do for the day, and then went to the
closet. A black pencil skirt was the foundation of the ensemble,
and the navy blue puff sleeve top matched perfectly with it. I
threw on a pair of three inch suede pumps, and went back to the
bathroom to apply makeup.
When I finished I looked once again
into the mirror, I was satisfied with what I saw. My clothes didn’t
scream “slutty secretary” but had substance that held their
own.
I loaded up my travel mug with java,
grabbed my purse, and was out the door by seven a.m.
There was already a cab waiting at the
curb, and one glance at Harold told me it was his doing. I gave him
a wink of appreciation, and climbed into the car.
When I reached the building that I
would be working in I sighed. “Here goes nothing…or everything.” I
said under my breath.
Crossing the lobby, I could see the
hustle and bustle of others like me, making their way to work for
the day. I walked to the directory on the wall, and found that I
would take the elevator to the Sixteenth floor. I hopped on board
with about twenty other people and began the ascent.
Nervousness slid over me when the doors
opened on my floor; here I was someone who previously hob knobbed
with celebrities and even got whipped by Bill Gates at
Chess.
I put one foot in front of the other,
and walked through a menacing set of glass doors. I found myself in
front of a reception desk, behind it sat a girl that looked no more
than twenty-one. My Mother always told me “Never judge a woman’s
age, just ask for her plastic surgeons number”. I let out a giggle
at the recollection.
“Um can I help you?” She said with a
grimace.
“Yes, I’m Emily Mills, here to see Mr.
Brewster.”
“Have a seat over there.” she pointed
to a row of chairs, “I’ll let him know you’re here.”
It wasn’t long, and a man in his
forties greeted me. “Hello Emily, I’m Eric Brewster, follow
me.”
“Okay thank you.” I said
politely.
“We have had a change of plans in the
office, my secretary Molly went into labor this weekend, so you
will be working with me instead of with the interns.”
“Sounds great.”
“From your resume you have experience
in the law field, which will come in handy, as Molly was a
paralegal.” He stated.
“Yes sir, I studied law at NYU, I will
be more than happy to assist you.”
“Assisting would be putting it lightly
Miss Mills, there will be occasions I will need you in court with
me, and you will be asked to stay late if the need arises.” He said
firmly.
“That shouldn’t be a problem
sir.”
“Good, this is your desk, I will have a
new laptop delivered this afternoon, is there anything else you
will need?”
“No this will be fine, thank
you.”
“I expect you to take a lunch break
promptly at 11:30 each day, if you leave the office, I expect you
to be gone no more than one hour, is that clear?”
“Yes it is.”
“I run a very tight operation around
here Miss Mills; there will be no social influences where I am
concerned. We keep things professional at this firm, and there will
be no room whatsoever for your personal life here.”
“I understand.”
“Good, now if you excuse me I have a
meeting.”
He turned and walked down
the hallway, and I felt like a child that had been scolded.
Obviously this prick had been reading gossip magazines, and
watching too much television. Damn it, I just wanted a
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