Masked Love [ Completed ]

Chapter 4. Problems, Problems.

Chapter 4 | Problems, Problems

Belinda raced with time as she ran all the way from the bus stop to the massive glass building that stood proudly at the side of the road, completely unbothered of the anxiety she was feeling due to the distance that seemed to never end.

She was obviously late, it was 10:14 when she stepped down from the bus and sprinted down the sidewalk to save whatever hope was left. Public on the streets gave her off looks filled with judgment and critic but she was not having any of it right now, her only goal was to enter the rotating doors of her potential new office and get the job, if there was any chance left.

She somehow managed to stop right in front of the doors before she could kiss it flat, taking deep breaths to calm herself and straighten her skirt and shirt, she entered the enormous building. Her eyes bulged out in wonder and mouth hung open in amazement. She had never seen a place like this before, maybe in a few movies but never in person.

Now that she was standing here she couldn't help but admire the outstanding interior and the huge golden chandelier hanging on the ceiling right above her head, the floor was so clean that she could see her disheveled state in it. Cool air gazed her exposed skin making her shiver slightly, if the lobby was this beautiful she wondered what the rest of the building looked like.

There were a set of couches placed on one side where a handful of people were casually seated, she was tempted to sit there and compose herself before she marched to the receptionist and ask if she was still eligible for the interview, but she did not have time. She had to save whatever hope was left which was not much to fight for but still worth it. It was Thorne.inc, it is always worth it. Some would say otherwise but they had their own perspective and she had her's.

Trying not to trip on the shiny floor she timidly walked over to the reception desk.

"Excuse me." She called the girl who was typing away at her computer. She was dressed in a simple white shirt and dress pants, hair slick back in a pin straight ponytail. She looked so perfect. Unlike herself.

"Yes? How may I help you?" She replied politely and offered a small smile.

"My name is Belinda Carson, I was called for an interview today at 10." She had a big urge to apologize profusely for being late and explain the reason for her tardiness. The girl whose name was Diana, as her ID read, went back to typing on the computer. For a moment she felt awkward standing there, she played with her fingers and looked around to busy herself.

"Okay, I just checked with the department, they said the one who was to interview you is herself running late, she will be arriving in a few minutes, the floor number and cabin number are written here. I suggest you run along quickly." The easygoing smile on Diana’s face washed away the trouble she had been feeling. Sighing in relief, thanking the kind receptionist she walked briskly towards the elevator and checked the card for the floor number. She hit the number 23 a little too aggressively but she was too nervous to check if the button was function still.

There was a very good reason for her to feel this way, there were too many problems today which already filled her head with doubts and insecurities. Her habit of stuttering when highly nervous would get the best of her if she did not control it in time, and her hair was still a mess.

Luckily she was alone in the elevator so she managed her messy hair by looking at the mirror. For the first time she was glad for mirrors in lifts. Other times it's just useless. It seemed like an eternity when a ting echoed and the doors opened.

The first thing she noticed when she stepped out was that everything was very.....grey.  There was no doubt everything still looked fabulous and too good to be true. On her left she could see a Dark Brown door with the words CEO written in gold bold letters. She gulped and swiftly averted her eyes elsewhere, it was better if she avoided that particular door. There was another door on the wall in front of her, it did not have a label, she added that to the list of rooms and things she needed to avoid, so far she had two.

There was a desk on her left, like a replica of the one in the lobby but much smaller in size. There was a girl sitting on her chair lazily trying on her computer while munching on a packet of Doritos. Ignoring her watering mouth she approached the girl, her ID read Rachel, and asked the same thing she asked Diana. She showed her the card she was given at the lobby.

Rachel nodded and held up her finger indicating her to wait for a minute. Belinda was all in for it, as long as she got to give the interview fairly and nicely.

"Ma'am has just arrived, you can go in now." Came a short reply from Rachel, she pointed to the other door with no name plate and went back to whatever she was doing. Belinda blinked a few times and nodded to herself.

Bracing herself she quietly knocked on the hard surface of the door and waited for a reply that came shortly after. A deep breath was all she could take before going in and so she did. She wanted to say that the cabin was just as beautiful as the other parts of this building that she had seen, but the truth was that it was not. The walls were plain white with no pictures and no decor, just an old looking clock ticked on the line walls, there was a medium size table smack in the middle with two chairs opposite on one side and one on the other, where a lady was sitting reading a file. Didn't the receptionist say she just arrived?

She started working already?

Rest of the room was boring too, no plants, table or anything that anyone wouldn't think twice before accomodating it in their office the lady looked up and her breath hitched, she had jet black hair that was pulled in a tight bun at the back of her head with not a hair out of place. Her black eyes were so intimidating, you could feel it penetrating your mind and stealing away your soul. Red lipstick was painted on her plump lips that was stretched into a thin line, displaying her displeasure.

She was screwed.