With a sigh, I moved to my closet, pulling out a navy business suit and sleeveless ivory blouse. I was nervous, but ready. Tomorrow, everything would change.
Sleep felt like a distant luxury,as if I had no right to it. I tossed and turned, the conversation with Slade before bed echoing in my mind. He’d been pushing for a commitment, and I wasn’t ready to give him one. I was tangled in my own chaos, and the idea of pausing our relationship indefinitely was becoming more tempting by the hour.
The blaring of my alarm clock was relentless at 6:30 a.m., each press of the snooze button only buying me a few more minutes of restless sleep. Eventually, I dragged myself out of bed, my limbs heavy and reluctant. I stumbled into the shower, hoping the steam would shake off the fatigue. As the hot water pounded against my skin, I tried to drown out my thoughts, focusing on the soothing rhythm instead.
With my hair still damp and air-drying into loose waves, I stood in front of the mirror. The black tresses cascaded down my back, brushing against the middle of it. I was determined to keep it tidy, planning to pin it up in a bun. I slipped into my navy business suit, the tailored cut making me feel more professional, more in control. As I inspected my reflection, I noted the almost-perfect fit of the suit, a small comfort in the sea of uncertainties that awaited.
It was nearly 7:45 a.m. when I finished my morning routine and decided to head to the office early. I checked my phone and saw an email from HR about medical coverage and retirement plans. Perfect timing, I thought. I’d beat the rush and be ready when the head of HR arrived.
Stepping out into the sticky humidity, I tried to ignore how it would wreak havoc on my hair and outfit. I hurried to the subway station, dodging clusters of commuters. The platform was packed, and I ended up standing the entire ride into Midtown. One of these days, I promised myself, I’d trade the subway for a cab.
As I emerged from the subway and approached the building, my stomach churned with a mix of anticipation and anxiety. The Elliott office was on the twenty-second floor. I stepped into the elevator, where Michael was already waiting. He greeted me with a warm smile and a reassuring squeeze on my arm. His graphite pinstriped suit and lavender button-up made him look effortlessly sharp, and I couldn’t help but notice the admiring glances from several women in the elevator.
“I’m glad to have you aboard,” he said.
“Glad to be aboard,” I replied, trying to match his enthusiasm.
“Take care of things in HR and come see me in my office. Claire, my assistant, will get you settled at your desk. We have a catered lunch to kick things off right each Monday.”
“I don’t feel like eating,” I admitted, feeling my nerves bubble up.
“Once you’re settled in, you will,” he said with a reassuring nod.
The elevator dinged on our floor, and Michael led the way. I followed him into the open office, where the hum of activity filled the air. He paused and looked back at me. “Thank you,” I said, my voice edged with nerves. Michael waved, and as hestarted a conversation with two men in navy suits, I was left to navigate this new world on my own.
After a half hour in the HR department, I made my way back to Michael’s workspace. He was on the phone, jacket off and sleeves rolled up, looking every bit the composed professional. Claire was absent from her desk, leaving me to wait until Michael gestured me over with a welcoming smile.
“Take a seat,” he said, his voice low as he continued to listen to the caller.
Watching him conduct business was almost mesmerizing. He leaned back in his burgundy leather chair, his expression a mix of frustration and determination. When he finally hung up, he exhaled deeply and shook his head. “This client makes me nuts. He doesn’t even want to deal with the engineer working on his building. He wants me and only me.”
“You’re a very desirable guy,” I blurted out before I could stop myself. The words left my mouth before I could censor them, and I felt my cheeks flush with embarrassment.
Michael’s smirk was playful as he rested his head on his hand. “You think I’m desirable?”
“I shouldn’t have said that. It’s not appropriate,” I stammered, mortified by my slip.
“I appreciate the compliment,” he said, his tone gentle.
I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, my face burning. “I’m sorry. What a way to start off my first day.”
“You’re cute,” he said, his tone softening. “Let’s forget it and get to work.” He then called for Claire, who hurried over to us. She was a petite woman with steel-gray hair neatly pinned up and a no-nonsense air about her.
“Yes, Michael?” Claire asked, her voice crisp.
“This is Morgan Kincaid. Can you show her to her desk and get her set up with supplies? Make sure her phone is hookedup and get the extension for me. We’re going to have a lot of communication over the coming weeks.”
Claire led me to my desk, which was situated opposite two other desks, both occupied by men—one with sandy brown hair and the other with red. They glanced up and smiled as I settled in.
“Michael’s extension is 200,” Claire said. “Yours is 201. Supplies are in your top and middle drawer.”
“Thank you,” I said, appreciating her efficiency.
Claire opened a laptop in the middle of my desk, showing me the password and how to change it. The software was familiar, a small relief amidst the sea of newness. “You’ll be having a private lunch in the Blue Room downtown with Michael today,” Claire added.
“He mentioned lunch is catered here on Mondays,” I said, a bit confused.
“That’s to familiarize you with the office. Michael takes all his new employees out on their first day.”