AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Paul told me not to let her get to me- that she was overly critical, and nothing could please her. He was right about that, but it wasn’t as if I could magically pretend that her words hadn’t hurt.
He told me I was beautiful as I was, didn’t need to lose weight, and would one day find a guy who loved me more than our mom, or our dad, who had taken off when we were toddlers, ever could.
I wanted to believe him. But after all this time had passed since then, I still hadn’t managed to land a boyfriend.
Yep. That’s right. At age 26, I was still a virgin. And that was the most embarrassing thing of all!
Sure, I fantasized about my perfect man. I wanted someone tall, dark and handsome- doesn’t every straight woman? I wanted him to look like a nice cross between a nerd and an in shape jock. He could wear both glasses and an old high school letterman’s jacket.
I wanted his eyes to light up in happy surprise when he saw me for the first time, letting me know that I was the only one for him. And I wanted him to swoop me up and carry me to bed, where he’d expertly make love to me every day for the rest of my life.
I guess you could say I had high standards. Perhaps impossibly high standards.
Needless to say, I hadn’t found his man yet. And I wasn’t sure I ever would.
And now was not the time to be thinking about that. Because I was approaching the receptionist, who looked up from her computer as if I was a huge annoyance to her and asked, “Can I help you?”
“Yes,” I said, clearing my throat nervously, because I hadn’t been expecting such a rude welcome. “I’m here for an interview, but I’m a little confused, because it’s supposed to be with Davies & Sons law firm, but the email I received told me to come to McKenzie and Smith Technologies, so, um, here I am.”
She had an amused look on her face- the kind of look I hate. The kind that lets me know I’m being a moron, but, even worse, the times that people had given me this look were times in which I didn’t even know how or why I was being a moron. And this time was no exception.
I looked around to see if this was is a suite and if maybe there were signs pointing to a back office somewhere, which might be the home of a law firm. But everything only said McKenzie and Smith.
I should had come here a day earlier to do recon and scope out the joint, I chided myself. But I was still not sure I would have been able to make sense of this place, even without the pressure of Miss Judgy Receptionist beaming down my neck.
“Davies & Sons has been purchased by McKenzie and Smith Technologies,” the prim receptionist finally said, as if deciding to show mercy on me and bless me with this very serious knowledge I somehow should have already known.
“I see,” I told her. “And where would their office be?”
“Offices, plural,” she corrected me, curtly. “Three floors up.”
She nodded her head in the general direction of what I soon realized, after squinting more closely in its direction, was an elevator.
How many floors does this office have? I wonder.
I was about to tell her thanks and head off confidently in the direction of the elevator I had just found out existed- faking it until I hopefully made it, as my YouTube videos told me to do-when another woman came down the hall, smiling at me in a much nicer and friendlier manner than Miss Judgy had been.
“Are you here for the Davies internship?” she asked me, cheerfully.
“Yes,” I told her. “I’ve found out it’s three floors up.”
“That’s right. I see you’ve met Morgan,” the woman said.
The corners of her lips turned down a bit as she did.
My feelings exactly!
“I have,” I told her, doing my best to sound professional, rather than catty.
Not sounding catty wasn’t exactly my forte, though. I could be a sarcastic bitch when I wanted to be.
“She mostly schedules our calendar,” the woman continued, “while I’m the one who is in charge of hospitality. We had so many people coming in today that I was busy helping someone else, though, and I apologize that your official welcoming party of one was late.”
“That’s okay,” I told her, happy to be getting off on a better foot now than I was with Miss Judgy- I mean Morgan. “I’m Jocelyn Peterson.”
“Nice to meet you. I’m Cynthia White,” she says, extending a professionally manicured hand in my direction.
Everything about her was polished but somehow still down to earth and a lot warmer than the vibe that Morgan was giving off. I instantly liked her.
