Her Soul

Chapter 1: Misty

Misty straightened her dark blue jacket and smoothed out the front of her knee-length skirt as she walked to the elevator. Her heels clicking across the marble floors as she strode to the shining elevator doors. She could do this. This was the stepping stone to becoming the account manager at one of the largest financial firms in the United States. All she had to do was impress HR with her skills and personality. She already had her foot in the door. With Katie’s dad’s help, of course. When he found out she was going into business finance at Brodstone, his ears perked up. When she graduated second in her class (stupid Ethan Butler and his stupid valedictorian speech), Mr. Whitmore was ready to introduce her to all of his colleagues and get her on the payroll at one of the top firms in New York, but Misty had other plans. She wanted THE top firm. She wanted G.H. Financial. It just so happened that Mr. Whitmore was a member at the same county club as Gregg Hale, CEO of G.H. Financial.

She pushed the button to go up to the 68th floor of the massive building, and waited for the quiet ding among the buzz of quiet conversation in the main entrance of the Hale building. The doors whispered open and she stepped inside with 4 other people, they were all on their phones, and they all ignored Misty. That is when the little voice in her head started to speak. ‘They are all ignoring you. They know you don’t belong here. They all know you come from nothing. They know about your mother and her problems. They know you are trash.’

Misty pushed the thoughts from her head. These people didn’t know anything, and her mother’s addictions were not her problem.

Misty came from a poor county in North Alabama that was known to have a drug use problem. Her mother was a victim of that area. Most of the people she graduated from high school with were still in the same town and using. Some of them got out of that town and were still using. Misty made the choice to never start. She had kept to herself and didn’t speak to anyone. She worked her ass off to get away and never look back. She had gotten a job at the local feed store and started saving every penny of every paycheck to get out of there and go to college. When she graduated at the top of her class and sat for her ACT she had made a 34. She was immediately offered multiple scholarships to schools all over the country. Between her academic scholarships, student loans, and her savings, she was able to go to Brodstone. Her freshman year was a little rough between work and classes, but her roommate Katie helped her survive, and they became best friends. Katie helped with everything from studying to making sure Misty could eat every day. Misty never told Katie all the bad things about home, but she knew that Katie had filled in the blanks well enough, and she knew that is why Mr. and Mrs. Whitmore helped her as much as they did. She didn’t consider it a hand out as much as two people helping their daughter’s friend.

As the elevator started to climb, it would stop and let people on and off, but by the time it got to the 68th floor, Misty was by herself. She checked her hair in the mirrored doors one last time before the pleasant ding chimed and the doors slid open.

The landing for the floor was all steel and black marble. There was a large receptionist desk directly in front of the elevator with doors on each side. The woman sitting behind the desk looked up from her computer and smiled.

“Good morning, how can I help you?”

“Yes ma’am, I am here for the 9-o-clock meeting.”

“Oh yes ma’am,” she glanced down, “You are just a few minutes early, but that is a good thing. He doesn’t like to be kept waiting. Please follow me.”

Without further explanation, Misty was guided past the reception desk and down the hall. From what she could tell, the hall made a big circle with a set of double doors at the apex of the circle. This HR office was very luxurious. All the floors were polished black marble and the walls were cream.

The woman knocked at the door and a gruff “enter” rumbled from the other side. The woman opened the door slightly, “Ms. Edwards is here for your 9-o-clock sir.”

“Show her in.” the gruff voice said again.

The woman stepped back and motioned for Misty to enter the office. It wasn’t what she was expecting. It was all heavy dark wood, the same black marble, and silver accents on the built-in cabinets and shelves. Misty barely noticed the furnishings because behind the desk sat Gregg Hale looking like he had just stepped off the cover of a who’s who from Time Magazine.