A Home From Nothing

Chapter 8

Jenna presses the up arrow on the panel next to the doors and we wait for the conveyor to stop for us. “Third floor is where accounting is. It’s a bit of a maze with the extra desks for the summer interns. They can be a bit overwhelming at first too.” Jenna informs as her heels click clack into the elevator.

We ride the elevator up to the third floor in silence while she types away at her phone and I hold the box with one hand and pick at my lips with the other. It’s a nervous habit I have had since I was a kid. I remember my mother yelling at me to stop once when we were at a barbecue at one of her friend’s house. She took me out the front door and down the steps to the road before berating me and then later when we got home I was beaten for making her miss part of the party.

The elevator doors open and my thoughts disperse as the chaos on the other side of the sliding doors comes into focus. Papers thrown all over the floor, trash cans knocked upside down and people rushing between desks and the copier by the window. I’ve never been in an office building, nor have I met any accountants other than my father but I never would have guessed the scene before me was something that occurred regularly.

Only the few people closest to the elevator looked at us or acknowledged our existence at all. As we left the elevator,I was bumped into a few times as the men and women in the room hustled around with their papers and pens. Jenna lead me to the back of the room to a row of cubicles before the real offices in the back. The door directly in the middle was slightly ajar with yellow police tape slung across the frame.

“I think I can figure out which room from here. I appreciate all your help Miss. Draper” I say, taking my box and heading to the decorated door. A chill runs down my back as I open the door wide enough to walk through.

“Call me Jenna, and it’s no problem. I was asked to clean this place out yesterday but ended up too busy.” She kneels down to pick up some papers scattered by the door.

I barely make it to the desk at the center of the room when a man in a blue suit comes stomping in, with his hands balled into fists and a scowl to rival Torrin’s. I was just trying to navigate the minefield of crumpled reports and takeout containers when his furious voice rang through the room.

“Who are you and what are you doing in this office?” The man half yelled.

“Uuhh, nice to meet you too. I love your sunny disposition, it’s so refreshing. Especially after my parents just died. I’m Ophelia Gage. Someone's certainly channeling their inner Beast today. Just try not to break any enchanted roses with that grumpiness, okay?" I fling over my shoulder as I set the desk chair upright and sit interlocking my fingers and looking him dead in his cerulean eyes.