Worthless In Their Eyes, Perfect In His

Chapter 6

First day of the job

My alarm hadn't rung yet when my eyes snapped open. My heart raced like I'd been running in my sleep. My stomach fluttered with nervous sensations. I sat up in bed, hugging my pillow against me and whispered to myself, ‘Today is the day. Don't mess it up, Ruby.’

Sandra was still snoring softly on the couch, her night shift uniform tossed carelessly over a chair. She worked herself hard, yet she always smiled. I wished I had that kind of strength. Instead, I was trembling just thinking about answering phones. Phones! How pathetic.

“Goodmorning.” Sandra muttered as she lifted herself from the couch. She rubbed her sleepy eyes and headed to the kitchen for a glass of water.

After showering, I forced myself to the mirror. The blouse I had ironed three times last night looked fine until I put it on. The pale blue fabric clung in all the wrong places. My belly pressed against the buttons, daring to pop them open. My thighs looked like they could break out of the skirt.

“You'll embarrass yourself before you even get there.” Joey sneered in my head. My wolf's voice dripped with disgust. “If only you had Sandra's slim waist or your sister's slim figure, maybe you'd be different.”

I clenched my fists against the vanity table. “Shut up!”

Sandra was in the kitchen making coffee and toast. “You look nervous.” She teased, sliding a mug towards me.

“Nervous?” I laughed weakly. “I'm about to faint.”

“Just breathe Ruby, you'd do fine. And who knows, maybe you'll meet one of those hotshot bosses today.” Sandra said with a smirk.

I didn't tell her my mind had already replayed the stranger with emerald eyes a hundred times last night.

After forcing two bites of toast down my throat and nearly choking on it, I thanked her and slung my bag over my shoulder. The city seemed brighter than usual. The morning breeze was cool, but not enough to stop the sweat gathering at the back of my neck.

Vixen Couture looked even more intimidating than the last time. The glass doors reflected my anxious face back at me, a constant reminder that I didn't belong.

Roselyn was waiting at the front desk, as poised as ever in a navy blue blazer. She gave me a quick scan, then nodded approvingly. “Right on time, Ruby. Good.”

“Goodmorning.” I managed to say, trying hard to keep my voice steady.

“Let's get you settled.” She said, leading me behind the reception counter. “This would be your station. Phones, appointment schedules, basic enquiries from clients and models, this desk handles all of it.”

I nodded nervously, trying to absorb every word.

Roselyn placed a neatly typed manual in front of me. “Here is your weekly schedule. Get familiar with it. Calls should always be answered on time. Greet with: Welcome to Vixen Couture, how may I assist you? Nothing more, nothing less.”

My throat went dry. “Yes ma'am.”

“You'll also be responsible for signing visitors. Maintain discretion at all times, and make sure the lobby stays presentable. That means noticing everything, who comes in, who lingers too long, who doesn't belong.” Her eyes narrowed slightly as if warning me. “This company runs on reputation. One mistake at the front desk could cost us dearly.”

“Noted ma'am.”

Roselyn handed me a slim electronic tablet. “Your login information is inside. Do not lose it.”

I clutched it like it was the most precious thing in the world.

“Now, if you have any questions, just ask me. I'll be nearby. Remember, you're here to represent Vixen Couture.”

I nodded again, my heart pounding with something that felt like excitement. Represent Vixen Couture. Me? Ruby Philips. The girl whose mother had thrown her out, now sitting at the front desk of one of the glamorous companies in the city.

Before I could gather myself, the glass door slid open, and he walked in. The emerald eyed man who saved me from the rogues.

He wore a tailored grey suit that seemed designed for his body alone, too exquisite to be found in regular stores. Staff glanced up from their conversations. Whoever he was, everyone here knew him. Everyone except me.

I took a deep breath and forced my eyes down to the tablet Roselyn had given me. My hands trembled as I pretended to study the screen. I couldn't afford to be caught gawking.

“Mr. Smith.” Roselyn greeted, in a voice that sounded softer than the one she used in addressing me. “Welcome.”

Smith. So that was his name.

He gave her a faint nod before walking past. He didn't stop at the desk, didn't look at anyone, not even me.

My gaze lingered in his direction and I followed his steps.

Roselyn's eyes flicked to me. “Focus, Ruby.”

Heat rushed to my cheeks. “Yes ma'am.”

For the next hour, she drilled me on the desk routine, how to welcome visitors, how to answer calls, and how to check appointments. My mind fumbled like a clumsy child's and I repeated her instructions until my throat was dry.

The first call came in at 9:15. My fingers hovered nervously over the screen, before I finally swiped to answer.

“Uh— Vixen Couture, how…how can I help you?”

Roselyn tapped against the desk. “Try again.” She whispered.

I cleared my throat gently. “Welcome to Vixen Couture, how may I assist you?” My voice was steadier this time.

“Much better.” Roselyn applauded.

By mid morning, my nerves were frayed. At least I hadn't dropped the tablet and I hadn't called anyone by the wrong name yet. That felt like victory.

At 11:00, two models swept in, both tall with perfume trailing along with them. One of them whipped her hair to the side and gave me a look from head to toe, the kind that stripped me bare.

“Welcome ma.” I managed to say.

“New receptionist?” She asked Roselyn, ignoring me entirely.

“Yes.” Roselyn answered.

The model smirked. “She doesn't look like she belongs.”

I gave her a hard glare as she walked away. Roselyn didn't defend me. She didn't scold them. She simply returned to her paperwork. Maybe that was a test, seeing if I could survive here.

The clock crawled towards noon. My stomach growled, begging for lunch.

Then, he returned. “Roselyn. I want to see you at my office.”