Chapter 4
-Jianna-
My mind was reeling when I got out of the hospital. I couldn't help but replay the harrowing events that led me there repeatedly. Most importantly, I can't help but think about James. "Who is he?" I wondered.
I was deep in thought when my phone rang. I looked at the screen. Kevin. Shit.
"Hello?" I answered. "Where the hell are you? I've been calling you and texting you for hours. I'm down 2 people. I need you here. NOW!" he screamed. I can hear the agitation in his voice.
"I just got out of the hospital. Something happened on my way to work." I exclaimed.
"What do you mean something happened? It's always something with you," he said.
"Not that it's any of your business, but I got assaulted on the train on my way to work, so I'm sorry I can't be there. I've just been through a traumatic experience, and I don't think coming in would be a great idea right now." I was surprised at how abrasive I was with my response. I never thought I would be able to stand up for myself.
"Well, in that case, don't bother coming in. I will mail you your last paycheck."
click
"Fuck! Well, that backfired." I thought to myself.
Honestly, I'm elated that he fired me. I've been trying to quit for the longest time, anyway. I just don't have the guts to do it. It's time to hit Indeed again.
When I got home, I lit up my laptop in my living room. As I waited for my computer to load, I attempted to recall my interaction with James, and that familiarity returned to me.
"Where have I seen him before? Why do I feel an overwhelming sense of security with him?" I pondered. I have never felt anything like that before. I was intrigued. I decided to look him up before I got started with my job search.
**James Barnes **
I typed in my Google search bar and was flooded with every single James Barnes. I clicked on the images, hoping a picture of him was linked to any of his social media. I went through about 15 pages of photographs, but I was looking for something other than the James Barnes I was looking for.
"Go figure." I sigh in exasperation.
I decided to put a hold on my search for James and go to Indeed to send out applications. I spent about 2 hours doing that, applying to every opening that interested me, and then I decided to take a break. I was scrolling through my phone when it rang. It was an unfamiliar number, so I hesitated to answer. Usually, I would let it go to voicemail, but since I have been applying to jobs, I thought it might be a company I used to, so I hesitantly answered.
"Hello?"
"Hi! Is this Ms. Spencer?" said the lady cheerily on the other end of the line.
"Yes. Who's speaking with, please?
"Yes. Hi! This is Morgan from Cross Industries. We received your application for the Executive Assistant position, and I wanted to see when you can come in for an interview?"
"Whoa! That was fast!" I thought. "Hi! Yes. Thank you for calling. I'm pretty open. When would be your first available appointment?" I asked, trying to hide the excitement in my voice.
"How's tomorrow at 10?" she said.
"Tomorrow at 10 sounds perfect," I exclaimed, sounding professional.
"Great! See you then. I'll e-mail you the address. When you get in the building, just have the security buzz me, and I'll come get you from the lobby. I'll also send you my contact info in case." she explained.
"Awesome! I'll be there. Thanks again. It was a pleasure talking with you." I try hard to suppress my excitement.
I get off the phone with her, and I squeal with delight. "Damn! Cross Industries is interested in me?" I can hardly believe my luck.
I woke up the next day and started getting ready. I was nervous but optimistic.
I tried to get my untamable frizz under control, but after 10 minutes, I gave up. I put it in half a ponytail, tried to get the remaining strands off my face, and tucked them behind my ears. I looked at myself in the mirror. "That'll do pig. That'll do," I say to myself. I chuckled a bit and then grabbed my bag and left.
I arrived at my destination and entered the pristine marbled floor lobby. I see the sign "Cross Industries" behind a sleek reception desk. A tall, well-dressed receptionist smiled at me and asked, "May I help you?"
"Hi. My name is Jianna Spencer. I'm here to see Morgan Greene?" I said.
She looked at her computer and picked up the phone receiver. She said something I couldn't hear and hung up. She looked at me and said, "You may take a seat. She'll be right down." gesturing at one of the sofas behind me.
"Thank you." I smiled.
As I made my way over to the sofa, I couldn't help but admire the splendidness of the reception area. The walls were adorned with modern abstract artwork, while the floors were polished marble that reflected the soft lighting above.
A few minutes later, a tall, blonde woman emerged from an adjacent hallway. She exuded confidence as she walked towards me, her heels clicking on the marble floor.
"Miss Spencer? She asked.
"Yes. Hi! Miss Greene? It's a pleasure to finally meet you." I said. Extending my hand.
She shook my hand and said, "The pleasure is all mine. Please follow me." I stood up and followed her to the hallway. She emerged and was greeted with a set of elevators. She scanned her ID badge and pressed the button to go up. She noticed that I looked at what she did, "Mr. Cross is very concerned with security. No one can get past these elevators without scanning in." she explained.
When one of the elevators dinged and opened its doors, she gestured for me to get in. I thanked her, and she pressed the button to go to the 25th floor.
"One other person will conduct your interview today. I hope you don't mind," she said.
"I don't mind at all. Thank you for telling me." I replied, hoping that she didn't notice the nervousness in my voice.
The elevator dinged again, and we arrived at our floor. I stepped off the elevator and was stunned by how beautiful the office was. It is just as magnificent as the lobby. If not more.
I followed her to what appeared to be a conference room, and ushered me inside. A gigantic table in the middle with leather chairs on each side.
When I walked in, a man stood at the other end of the table with his back turned.
Ms. Greene entered behind me and said, "Mr. Cross, this is Jianna, and she's here to interview for the Executive Assistant position."
He turned around, and I was astounded by how young he was. I was expecting him to be older. He started walking toward where we were standing, his confident stride echoing through the room. His sharp suit hugged his trim frame, accentuating his commanding presence. His piercing blue eyes locked on mine as he approached, quickly assessing me from head to toe.
"Hello, Miss Spencer," he said. His voice was deep and somewhat sensual.
"I'm Sebastian Cross."