Two
"I need love, but I can't find my heart" -Jacob Lee-
The enthusiasm in my chest flared up like sparks exploding in the dark of night, outshining the glow of hundreds of billions of stars and, at the same time, puffing myself up with pride when the identification tag hung sweetly around my neck. If I could stand at the top of the Empire States, maybe I would tell every corner of America that Elizabeth Khan, who was once weak and helpless, is now an employee at the company of dreams. Unfortunately, this inherent introverted soul smothers and extinguishes the desire to do that crazy thing.
However, there was an incident of being 'almost late' because I stayed up late last night watching an adaptation of a Nicholas Sparks novel until my nose turned red. Even though I had rejected Emilia's invitation not to watch the touching romantic drama film, she whispered that this would be the last time before the real world realised that a romantic man who would shed tears for his woman was impossible.
Walking on black stilettos that collided with the marble floor was like walking on a rope. Be careful and don't fall. This is a disaster for a girl who rarely wears high, thin heels like a collection of pasta tied with rubber. Honestly, on campus, I prefer to wear Vans or flat shoes that are comfortable. However, that doesn't apply when you are an employee who requires a neat and perfect appearance.
My gaze spread around, and people came in and out, especially in the elevator, as if forcing themselves to fit in the iron box. Suddenly, I felt short of breath when I imagined standing there, let alone being squeezed by a man.
Oh no!
There was no other choice but to wait for the next elevator, or the worst option was to use the emergency stairs, while the division head's room I needed to meet was on the fifteenth floor.
Oh, damn!
Without realising it, I bit my fingernails as I struggled with another side of myself that suddenly came without permission. It's always like this every time I do something. Even though the morning ritual I can carry out is strong enough to grow Elizabeth's positive side. In the corner of my eye, I glanced around and saw a man in an expensive-looking grey suit stop and shake the hand of a woman with high curls in her hair. They looked relaxed while my body suddenly cringed at the sight. How can they touch each other without fear?
I have to go to the toilet! I feel like throwing up looking at it!
I accidentally bumped into someone carrying a cup of coffee, spilling on a new shirt. I washed and ironed the white shirt carefully and hoped it wouldn't get the slightest stain. I screamed, not wanting to be mixed with hot coffee, which caressed the skin of my chest even though I was wearing a tank top.
"I'm sorry, Miss... I should--"
I was even more panicked because I was getting attention on the first day, even before work. I rushed to the toilet, but Goddess Fortuna tempted my patience until I tripped over my feet. OK, I'm embarrassed, annoyed, angry, afraid of thoughts that will ruin the good mood I've built. I want to strongly condemn this damn coffee and stiletto incident, but they won't be able to change the time that has passed.
"Are you okay?" the bass voice sounded firm, along with the outstretched hand encircled by a silvery, sparkling watch.
I looked up to see the owner of the voice. The man with copper brown hair who was so calm with ocean blue irises looked guilty; in his left hand, he was still holding a coffee cup, while his right hand was still faithfully waiting as if telling me to accept the help.
With all my might, I stood on those damn stilettos with my knees throbbing. His help is unnecessary if he's already ruined my new clothes. I don't know what to say to my division head later. His new employee is careless, late, and...
"Are you okay? You're pale... Ms. Khan," said the man, glancing at my identification.
I shook my head weakly with a forced smile. My chest still felt full, like someone was trying to crush it from the inside. I think the sedative in the bag will ease the panic. "Thank You."
I left the man who brought disaster to ignore his call. The toilet is my current destination to clean up the remaining coffee and ensure my chest isn't blistered. If I had Emilia next to me, I can be sure that the man would end up being scolded by Wonder Woman.
"Your shirt? I can tell my assistant to take it to the dry cleaners," offered the blue-eyed man, following in my footsteps. "I'm sorry."
"No, thank you!" I retorted, entering the women's toilet.
Ah, God, can you douse him with coffee, too?
After struggling to remove the coffee stains even though they were still traces, I finally sat in Mr. After receiving several questions, Lawren asked why he was late meeting him. Luckily, the head of the finance division, The dashing man, didn't make any harsh comments. The room used by this manager class is quite large.
The paint is predominantly white and several photo frames hang nicely on the side of the room. A lime-coloured L-shaped sofa is on the right, along with a glass table. On the left side of the room, a metallic-painted wooden shelf holds thick, well-maintained books.
Mr. Lawren is like most leaders: a pile of files on the right and a white cup with smoke billowing. I'm sure it's coffee from the aroma wafting in this room. Behind the office chair occupied by Mr. Lawren were several small cacti placed near the window to give a cool impression and a charming New York City background.
My manager himself is tall, well built, has a crew cut, has a little moustache, has dark blue irises, and white, slightly reddish skin like he's been burned by the sun. If I could guess, maybe the man was around 40 or younger.
He took me to the employee workroom and met Ketty―the financial administration staff―to explain in more detail what had to be done. The workspace adjacent to the manager's room consists of six tables divided into two on one side. The feel of the room is almost the same as the other rooms; the difference is that it has two large photocopiers at the end of the room.
"I think you'd better change your shirt, Elizabeth," suggested Ketty, lowering her glasses. "The first day is to determine whether you are good."
"Ah, yes, I understand, Ketty. But, I--"
"I can call my regular dry cleaners while you put on another shirt. We'll be busy today, Miss," he interrupted reassuringly.
I couldn't help but obey Ketty's words, bought a shirt online and had it sent that same day. Ah, it's nothing; my mistakes have cornered me.
It's the coffee guy's fault, Lizzie!
While waiting for the goods to arrive, Ketty gave me the task of inputting all transactions into the program on the company computer. When he handed me a stack of papers containing all kinds of transactions with a glance, this is how I knew that today would be a very long and tiring day.
OK, fine, entering data should be easy, right?
The next second, the phone in front of me rang, and I heard the manager's voice answering.
"Go to Mr. Johnson's room on the thirtieth floor. He is calling you," said Mr. Lawren.
I was silent for a moment, Mr. Johnson? Who's he? Why call me? Why not contact me directly?
"You still there, Ms. Khan?"
"Ah, um... yes, sir! I'll be there, thank you," I said, then hung up the phone. "Ketty?" I turned my head when I saw the woman copying some files.
She turned her head, "Yeah? What's wrong?"
"Who is Mr. Jhonson on the thirtieth floor?" I asked, which caused a great reaction on the sweet face of the African-American woman. "Is there something wrong?"
"Don't you know what it's really like to act innocent? Didn't you meet several company officials before you came in here?"
My brows furrowed for a long time, trying to remember who had interviewed me during employee selection. There is no one with the last name Jhonson; even if there was, he should have come, right? I shook my head weakly and wondered how good this Johnson was for Ketty to go overboard like that.
"He's our big boss here, Elizabeth. Come on... You weren't drunk when you submitted your application to Jhonson Corp?"
My mouth dropped open like it was touching the marble floor that was touching the cooling machine in the summer. Ah, that's right. How could I forget that I was in a company owned by a super-rich family? So, what's the matter with him calling a new employee late to meet the manager this morning?
Or did Mr. Lawren complain to him?
"Okay." That was the only response I could give to Ketty as I got up from the chair, still wanting to hold my butt to meet Mr. Johnson. Can I avoid the leadership above this boss? Why else did Mr. Lawren complain about my lateness?
"Why are you such a daze?" quipped Kitty. "He won't eat you whole. But, I remind you that he is a typical perfectionist." Ketty's narrow eyes pointed at the coffee stain still on my shirt.
OK, maybe I'll be kicked out soon for making two mistakes. It's a late and dirty shirt.
"Should I borrow your shirt for a moment?" I asked hopefully. "I think we have the same dress size."
Ketty laughed, revealing a row of braces with pink rubber contrasting her exotic skin. "It's not me sharing things with others; I'm sorry, Elizabeth."
Armed with a sense of resignation, I finally dared to walk to meet my boss on the thirtieth floor after Ketty whispered that I had to thicken my ears when I got scolded. I took a deep breath; at least one sedative this morning was able to neutralise the fear that could turn into hysteria.
The elevator took me to the thirtieth floor; my eyes anxiously scanned the numbers until the iron door opened. The sound of stilettos tapping was now like an echo that echoed throughout the corridor, which seemed quiet, and few people were passing by. Is this the VIP floor where the company leaders' rooms are located?
Right in front of the elevator door was a desk labelled secretary, and a woman with curly hair and brick-red lipstick was busy calling someone. Our gazes met, and he implied for me to wait a moment. After ending the call, he said, "Ms. Elizabeth Khan?"
I nod my head. OK, the sedative isn't calming me down now. I feel like I'm going to get kicked out of here.
I pressed the button and whispered to report my arrival to Mr. Johnson. My body felt half-paralysed when the secretary invited me in. I wanted to run away, but my legs moved by themselves, following the woman with curves like a guitar. Oh, Crap!
The black metallic door opened, revealing the figure of a man sitting behind a work desk with his back to the sun forcing its way through the glass wall. Seeing him sitting there with the light shining on his athletic body was like God had just dropped a cruel man from the sky.
He flashed a faint smile and meaningful eyes behind those dark blue irises. That's when all my fears became stronger, remembering that the man with copper brown hair there was the same person who had made a mess on my first day.
"Fuck!" I hissed softly.