Not Looking Good

My new workplace wasn't that far from the old one. A ten minute drive down the road. As I reached the building, I did the usual routine - park my car, head for the elevators and pressed for my floor. The elevator doors were about to close when a hand suddenly went in between to stop it. I looked up instinctively.

Chace.

"Really? Out of everyone and anyone I could share the elevator with? I know I'll work for him so I won't be able to avoid seeing him. But talk about great timing." I thought to myself.

"Good morning, sir." I tried to greet him as casually as I can while moving my eyes slightly to his direction.

"Good morning." he replied briefly.

We both stood inside the elevator silently, maintaining an ample distance between us. I kept my gaze straight at the door and focused on it so intently I could bore a hole in it. My gosh, this feels like the longest elevator ride I've ever been in.

"Ding!" the sound finally rang. He motioned his hand forward to tell me to step out of the elevator first. I slightly bowed my head to acknowledge and walk out of the elevator. He then followed shortly after and as he did all his staff faced our way and bowed down their heads politely and greeted "Good morning, Mr. Levesque" in unison.

Wow. The air feels different here. Compared to his dad's workplace which gives a relaxed atmosphere, it's so tensed here- like one mistake and you're fired tense.

"Good morning." he replied in a formal tone and went straight to his office in a few strides with his long legs. Oh, shall I follow him? I blinked in indecisiveness. I walked a step forward and a guy in his mid 40s came in front of me.

"You must be Miss Curtis?" he asked with a smile.

"Yes." I smiled in reply.

"I'm Steve Jenkins, this company's manager." he continued while extending his hand for a handshake.

"Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Jenkins." I said while taking his hand.

He gave me a quick tour of the office and introduced me to the other workmates. Pretty much standard things on how things go on your first day. After that, I settled on my work desk and started sorting things out.

My work system is slightly different here. All his schedules, meetings, phone calls and everything else have to be typed in the computer, printed, and placed on his desk minimizing as much conversation with him as possible.

"Isn't that a bit troublesome? Some things are easier and more practically done verbally. I shall remind myself to bring breath mints then." I sarcastically frowned to myself.

" Is he trying to avoid talking to me that much? As if we'll have or I'll try to talk to him about anything other than work. He doesn't even ask for coffee because his driver brings it to him. Don't flatter yourself too much, Mr. Levesque. I have no intentions of talking to you anyways." I retorted to myself.

Everyday is as mundane and routinary as it could get. Just on my third day and I'm starting to get bored and fighting the urge to just quit and look for another job. As I sighed to myself, I noticed a pair of stilettos approaching me.

"Lunch break!" as I look up, I saw Mabel's face beaming at me. She's a friend I made from the wardrobe department whom I met on the orientation day for newly hired employees. She's 23, same age as me and very quirky. Probably why we vibed instantly.

"Come on, I'm hungry!" she pulled my arm up urging me to stand.

"Coming!" I replied a bit giggling while reaching for my phone and purse.

The cafeteria is buzzing with conversations. Unlike upstairs, this is so much livelier. Besides most of the people here are from different departments that don't have to deal with the boss directly so they're not tensed up. I kinda envy them.

We sat on an empty table by the window. Mabel was chattering away about a dress she was assigned to sew. As our conversation went on, I heard a voice chimed in. As I looked towards the direction of where the voice is coming from, my eyes were greeted with a sight of tall hotness, brunet with sea green eyes, and a charming smile.

"I saw you guys the other day on the orientation but I wasn't able to say hi." he started.

Mabel and I looked at him in confusion of the random approach.

"I'm Brent Harper, trainee producer." he continued, extending his hand towards me as if I'm the only one in the table.

"Samantha Curtis" I replied and shook his soft hand. A firm but gentle grasp lingered around mine.

"Mabel Ortega" Mabel extended her hand, smiling, breaking the moment as if to tell us she also exists.

Brent turned to her and shook her hand briefly.

"Brent!" a guy from a table few feet away from us called.

"I have to go back now. But it was nice meeting you. See you around! He flashed his perfect smile before turning away.

"Looks like someone caught the attention of a hottie!" Mabel teased.

"And he's not just any other hottie, he's the youngest son of one of the shareholders. I heard that he's *25 years old and his dad insisted he join the company to know the ins and outs of film producing. He'll eventually handle his own company and better to have an insight on how things work." she continued enthusiastically.

"Hmmm. Looks like staying here isn't so bad after all." I thought to myself.

Days seem to go by quickly as I adapted to how I should do my work and pay no mind on Chace's existence. Brent joins us for lunch occasionally and makes my heart giddy with the attention he gives me.

Today he even walked me back to my desk.

"Is it ok for you to be here? Won't the creative team go looking for you?" I asked.

"It's not that busy today unlike most days.Do this, do that. I'm not complaining though, I'm glad they let me do more things now." be responded with a smile.

"And you can't do anything more if you get fired. Go back to your department." a sexy baritone voice cut our conversation.

I looked and saw Chace walking towards us with an unreadable expression.

"Samantha, in my office,now." his sultry voice commanding as he walks past us towards his office door.

Samantha? Not Ms. Curtis like how he usually calls me? What's up with that? I hate to admit it though, I like how my name rolled in his tongue when he called me.

Snapping out of my reverie, I looked at Brent scowling but already heading for the elevators.

"I wonder what he wants?" I frowned to myself as I knocked on the door. As I let myself in, he motioned me to sit on the chair in front of his desk. After I did, he looked at me and sighed.

"Nan isn't feeling well lately." he confessed.

*Note: For those who already read this chapter, I decided to change Brent's age from 27 to 25.