The Gray Area

The air buzzed with a mix of anticipation and uncertainty. She had planned to resume earlier than normal time just to set her things up, get to know a few people, and take a walk around Doxon Counseling Agency. As she stepped her already fidgeting feet in the reception halls and looked around, she realized that the other employees had the same agenda. She moved closer to the front desk trying a little too hard not to be noticed, almost tiptoeing as her four-inch heels were loud enough to attract attention “Hello, uhh…” she squinted as she read the name tag on the receptionist. “Ms. Stella…” she said as she cleared her throat and fixed her posture. “I’m Grace… Grace Harper” She gave the receptionist a returning smile. “I’m new” she finished. “I know. I'm just giving the… onboard coordinator a chance to show up before you're done talking” Stella said the last words incredibly loud enough to attract the attention of people chitchatting in the halls without looking away. Stella fixed an uncomfortable smile on Grace for what seemed to look like forever before Grace shyly cut the stare. As Grace looked around, A man seemed to walk away from a group and towards her. The light fingers of another lady in the group provocatively lingered on his chest but he could only return a flirtatious smile. As he stepped towards the front desk, she noticed he had an understated elegance, dressed in a simple yet impeccably fitted black blazer over a soft gray sweater. His trousers were dark and tailored, lending him a polished look without being overly formal. With tousled hair that seemed effortlessly styled, he carried an air of casual confidence. His deep-set eyes sparkled with intelligence and warmth, drawing people in without him even trying. A faint, earthy scent accompanied him, reminiscent of fresh pine and old books, hinting at a creative soul beneath his composed exterior. “Hello,” he sings, smiling. Grace could only imagine how many smile pills they consumed in this company. She squeezed the handles of her handbag and returned his smile. “I’m Grace, uhm…Grace. Grace Harper…” she stuttered as the atmosphere looked like they both were awaiting her introduction. “I know,” He whispered as he moved closer to Grace. “You’re on the eighth floor, your name’s on the door, don't worry it's just a few offices on the eighth. You'll find yourself, get your keycards from Stel, and, oh… orientation is on the top floor,” Grace shuddered as he held her shoulders. “You mustn't be late for orientation,” he added with a straight face as he left Grace with the receptionist. As Grace turned to Stella, she could only imagine why a whole Doxon Agencies could be having an orientation meeting when they already emailed the new employees documents stating the— “The contract. s**t!” she whispered. “Don't worry sis, nobody really reads that anymore, hence the orientation.” Stella chuckled and dropped Grace’s office keys on the desk. “Oh,” Grace lingered her eyes on the back features of her coordinator and turned to Stella, “What’s his name?” “Oh, You’ll know.” Stella gave Grace a warm smile as she nodded in the direction of the elevators, “Orientation babe…” As Grace returned to the reality of working at a top 5 therapy agency in DC, she could only think about how many people she needed to seem normal around—neither too confident nor too shy. She took her keycards from Stella, mouthed a quick “thank you,” and hurried to the elevators, pressing the button for her floor. She finally felt at ease as she entered the elevator. When the doors opened with a soft swoosh, she stepped out in her expensive heels. "Well, it seems like the coordinator man doesn’t come here often," she remarked as she stepped into the spacious eighth floor, her stilettos clicking rhythmically on the empty floor. "I wonder why they have so many cubicles. It looks like they could accommodate up to two hundred certified therapists at Doxon. I wonder—" As she scanned the hall, her gaze landed on a well-dressed man in a tailored suit. She couldn’t quite tell what he was doing, but she admired his sleek, wavy hair. Stella took a deep breath, her eyes fixed on the sleek, silver door handle of her new office which bore her name “Dr Grace Harper. She contemplated her next move before mustering the courage to walk in without acknowledging the imposing figure lingering nearby. Just as she was about to take a step, the elevator doors swooshed open once more, and a lively group of middle-aged men and women spilled out, their chatter and laughter filling the air. They strode past Grace, oblivious to her presence, but their jovial atmosphere dissipated the moment they spotted Mr. Suit. Their conversation ceased, replaced by an awkward silence. Mr. Suit nodded curtly, his expression unreadable, before turning back to the elevators. The group watched him leave, their faces a mixture of curiosity and apprehension. As Mr. Suit stepped into the elevator, his long fingers pressed the button for his desired floor with precision. His gaze, however, lingered on Grace, his eyes locking onto hers with an intensity that made her skin prickle. For a fleeting moment, their gazes held, the air thick with unspoken tension. Time seemed to slow as Grace took in the chiseled features of his face: the sharp jawline, the piercing blue eyes that seemed to bore into her soul, and the hint of a stern expression etched on his lips. The elevator doors, began to slide shut, breaking the spell. As they swooshed closed, Grace caught a glimpse of his dark hair, perfectly styled, and the tailored fit of his suit that accentuated his broad shoulders. The brief encounter left Grace breathless, her heart pounding in her chest. She felt as though she'd been scrutinized, analyzed, and filed away in his mental ledger. She wasn't expecting anything less from a therapy agency, she thought. The memory of his piercing gaze lingered, seared into her mind like a branding iron. With the elevator gone, the silence enveloped her once more, but Grace's senses remained heightened, her awareness of Mr. Suit's presence still palpable. With the distraction over, Grace slipped into her office, feeling a sense of relief wash over her. She closed the door behind her and leaned against it, letting out a quiet sigh. As she began to settle in, arranging her belongings and familiarizing herself with the space, a gentle knock at the door broke the silence. "Come in," Grace called out. The door swung open, and two bright-smiling women walked in. They were both stylishly dressed, their hair neatly styled. "Hi, Dr. Harper. We're your interns for the semester," said the taller of the two, extending a manicured hand. "I'm Emily, and this is Sarah." Grace shook their hands warmly. "Welcome, Emily and Sarah. Please, call me Grace I'm excited to work with you both." Emily and Sarah exchanged a glance before Emily spoke up. "We've heard great things about your unconventional approach to therapy. We're eager to learn from you." Grace smiled, feeling a sense of belonging. "I'm looking forward to sharing my experiences with you. Let's get started, shall we?" As the three women sat down, the tension from the earlier encounter began to dissipate, replaced by the promise of new beginnings and fruitful collaborations.