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The November rain froze the air as I opened my umbrella, hurrying away from my car. I said, “Fuck you,” to the cold with my short skirt and unbuttoned blouse. There’s no fucking chance I’m sacrificing my confidence or my sexiness ‘cause of the fucking rain. But a long, difficult, headache-inducing first day was ahead of me. I ran my hand through my hair - loose, as usual - and styled it messily around my face. Shaking my wrist, I rotated my watch to check it. I’d sail in right on time. I smirked.
Puddles tested my brand new black heels as I crossed the parking lot cautiously. The soft pattering of the rain on my umbrella soothed my nerves. I had to bring my A-game today; I had a lot of people to impress. I bit my lip. The freezing cold and anticipation combined was hyping me up as I made my way towards the building. Today would be me in my element. I hoped I could last.
As I stepped into the area preceding the massive office block, my eyes wandered around the modern concrete courtyard. My gaze locked on a tall, slim woman holding her briefcase over her head to shelter herself from the pelting rain. It was hard not to see her bright scarlet coat against the miserable grey sky. She glanced up, making short work of the steps in front of her with her endless legs, and we made eye contact. My stomach flipped over.
“Hey,” she called out, halting my footsteps as she hurried over to me. “Could I share your umbrella?”
“Anytime,” I replied, taking her in with a grin. “Like I could say no to having a woman like you huddled up to me when it’s cold.”
With some amused side-eye, she slung her briefcase over her shoulder. My gaze followed her hands, peeking her manicured fingers and meretricious bracelets and rings.
“Yeah, well, we take what we can get around here.” She extracted lipstick from her pocket and touched up her already perfect lips as our paces synced. “This place is a fucking bore, am I right?”
“I wouldn’t know,” I laughed, appreciating how her side-parted platinum hair framed her face. Every time I blinked, my eyes found something else on her to be infatuated with.
“Oh, shit,” she breathed, covering her mouth. “You’re not one of the new interns arriving today, are you?”
I laughed, smirking as we arrived underneath the undercover entrance to the office building.
“That’s me. Maeve Jackson. One of the interns.” I sighed inwardly.
“Don’t take anything I say seriously,” she disclaimed, straightening her coat as I closed my umbrella and ran my hand through my hair once more, casually inspecting myself in a window.
“If you say ‘yes’ to me asking you out, can I take you seriously?” I glanced at her, watching her intrigued expression as my heart raced.
“Wow, you’ve got some fucking guts asking me out already,” she said, reverence dripping from her tone. Her red lips perked into a smirk as she faced me. “Do you know who I am?”
I could hear my heart in my ears as I stepped forward, pulling her button-up shirt straight gently, letting my gaze linger on her exposed neck adorned with a thick gold chain. I looked back up at her from under my eyelashes and pressed my shoulder against the wall.
“Does it matter?”
Her eyebrows rose far up her forehead as she leaned into me. “Well, I am your boss. Everyone’s boss, actually, so...”
I froze.
Then it clicked.
“You’re Elaine Markinson. Co-president. You’re the one who hired me. Shit.”
She nodded, running her tongue over her teeth. I let go of her coat. “Technically my assistant hired you ‘cause I don’t do that administrative shit, but yes.”
I inhaled deeply. “You aren’t gonna fire me on my first day, are you?”
“Hell no!” She crossed her arms, shaking her head. “I could definitely do with some fucking excitement up here.”
I grinned, relieved. Talk about overconfidence, Maeve. “So I can ask you out?”
“As long as we’re both agreed that I’m a fucking asshole and you don’t mind getting into trouble.”
Slightly stunned, I laughed. “Agreed. I’ve been told by a lot of fucking people that I’m an asshole too, so I’m with you there.”
She groaned, letting her head fall back. “Thank God. I can’t stand polite people.”
“Right? Like why’ve you gotta be such a fucking brown-noser all the time?”
“Exactly!”
We made our way into the building, talking obnoxiously about our worst pet peeves. I was walking on cloud nine. Every time our shoulders brushed, or we became expressive with our hands and bumped into each other, her skin felt like the tempting, exciting, unexplored territory I’d been yearning for.
I couldn’t wait to get started.