Page 2 of His Obsession

He put his hand out, taking hold of my purse. He put my bag on the x-ray machine belt and motioned me to walk through the metal detector. I met my bag on the other side and put my strap on my shoulder. He walked away, beckoning me to follow him to a desk where a woman with burgundy-styled hair sat. I nodded and smiled sheepishly at the man and turned to the redhead.

“Hello, can I help you?” she asked and gave me a closed-mouth smile.

“I’m sorry I’m late. I spoke to Rebecca about an interview, and the traffic just wasn’t moving. She didn’t say who I had an interview with…” I blurted my reasoning before she held up her hand to stop me.

“It’s fine. You must be Elizabeth Keel. I’m Rebecca, go ahead and have a seat, and I’ll let Mr. Donovan know you are here.” I gave her a nervous smile, rubbed the sweat from my hands, and turned to sit in the white leather chairs.

My butt barely grazed the seat when a man in his late fifties stood in the doorway in a suit and tie. I walked towards the man I could only assume was Mr. Donovan and shook his hand.

“Ah, Elizabeth Keel, I presume? I’m Cray Donovan, I’ll be conducting your interview today. Follow me, please.” He stepped back and took me to a room with a jet-black desk and industrial-style walls. There were no personal effects in the place. “Please, have a seat.” He motioned with his hand, pointing to the two chairs on one side of the desk as he walked to the other side and took his. I sat down and folded my hands in my lap, trying to take a deep breath and calm my erratic heartbeat. Mr. Donovan flipped open a manila folder and laid it open on the desk.

“Okay, Ms. Keel. As I said, I am Mr. Donovan, I am interviewing you for the Administration Assistant position to Mr. Randall. Let’s get started.” He flipped a page over.

“Wait… I’m sorry. There must be a mistake!” I interrupted. “I was told I was interviewing for a Personal Assistant position.”

“Yes, there must have been a miscommunication somewhere. The interview is for the Admin Assistant position. If you are not interested in this, I’m sorry.” He closed the folder and stood.

My heart rate picked back up, and I stuttered out a sentence. “No, I just wanted to clarify that I was sitting in the correct interview. I’d be happy to be an Admin Assistant.”

I watched the relief in his eyes as he opened the folder and sat back down. You would think it would bemeshowing relief onmyface. It seemed like a weird reaction. I chewed my bottom lip nervously as he settled back in and found his place.

“Right then. Tell me about yourself and why you would make an excellent assistant?”

Crap, I didn’t even have time to catch my breath; we jumped right into the Q&A.

“Well, I’m highly organized, I’m able to get things done on time, and I don’t mind being the errand girl. I’ve never been an assistant before, but I’m a quick study and retain information rather well,” I said.

With his nods of approval and note-taking, I felt the interview was going well. We continued for what felt like hours when he stood and walked towards the door, holding it open.

“Okay, that’s all the information I need, Ms. Keel. I will be in touch.” He shook my hand and ushered me out the door. For an interview that appeared to go on forever, he ended it quickly. Maybe it wasn’t going as well as I thought. I felt a little dazed by the end of the conversation, but I tried hiding it. Mr. Donovan stood next to Rebecca and waved as I entered the elevator hitting the “G” button.

When I reached my floor, the elevator dinged, and the doors opened. Three rather large men stood in the dimly lit garage, having what appeared to be a heated discussion. All three men stopped talking, turned their heads, and glared at me. I froze mid-step,“Uh… oops, this is the wrong floor!” I said with a nervous laugh and stepped back into the elevator, punching the button with a star. As the doors closed, I locked eyes with one man with jet-black hair, and my heart skipped a beat. I thought I was having a heart condition. The elevator doors broke our eye contact, and I released my held breath. “G” doesn’t stand for the ground floor, note to self.

Me: I’m confused about how this interview went. :(

Lucy: What happened?

Me: I’ll explain when I get there. Just have to take a shower, be there by 8.

Traffic was thinning out, and I made it back to my townhouse in record time. Putting the car in park, I grabbed my purse. Mrs. Wilson was sitting on her porch wearing what looked like a dress with sunflowers all over, and a white sun hat. She was a sweet old lady, maybe eighty years old. She always kept a watchful eye out. There were times I would come home, and she would tell me not to go inside because Lucy was with a guy. I didn’t care, but I would sit outside with Mrs. Wilson and keep her company until she was tired of talking, or I made an excuse to exit.

“What’s happening today, Mrs. Wilson?”

“Well, a large catfight broke out, and I saw a beautiful bluebird today.” I forgot she was an avid birdwatcher.

“Oh, I bet he was beautiful.”

“How are you, dear? You look a little down.” She observed.

“I had an interview today, and I’m not sure how well I did. He kind of shoved me out the door,” I sighed, picking at my cuticle.

Mrs. Wilson gave me a sympathizing look. “A girl with your smarts and determination can get any job she sets her mind to.” I smiled at the thoughtful compliment and took a seat.

“How do you stay so positive? I keep getting knocked down, and it’s hard to see the light most times.”

I know today didn’t seem like that bad of a day, but it was just one thing after another. I didn’t have a carefree childhood, and I got passed from home to home. I grew up in the foster care system, and, like many foster kids, I outgrew the system.

I never knew my parents, but I heard from the social worker they were lowly people and couldn’t afford to raise me. As far as she knew, they were dead. I met Lucy when we both hit the same foster home, and we grabbed on to each other and never let go. She is the closest person I have to family. Sheismy family.

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