First day at work...
1129 Words
~Isabel~
5:45 AM.
My alarm cut through the quiet like a siren, jolting me awake. I sat up fast, heart thudding, as my eyes adjusted to the dim room. The sheets were too soft, almost like they were laughing at me for having something I hadn’t earned yet.
I stood in the middle of a walk-in closet bigger than my whole old apartment. My eyes landed right on my floral dress hanging near the front. My fingers brushed the fabric, and I heard William’s voice clear as day, "Take this off and burn it."
Who did he think he was to tell me what to wear?
That thought just made me burn hotter. I pushed the dress aside, grabbed a plain charcoal blazer and white shirt from my suitcase, and tossed them on the bed.
After I showered and got dressed, I looked in the full-length mirror. The girl staring back looked like she was wearing someone else’s life.
Mom thought marrying rich meant I could finally breathe easy, but I knew better. I still needed money for textbooks, bus fare, and everything else so I never had to ask Arthur for a single thing.
This internship wasn’t just something to put on a resume. It was the only thing keeping my future alive. I’d put up with William only because he stood between me and the paycheck I needed, and the future I’d fight for.
By 6:55 AM I was waiting in the big hallway. The floors shone so bright I could see my own nervous face in them. I checked my watch. 6:58 AM.
"Right on time. That’s new for your family."
William leaned against the doorway, coffee in one hand, briefcase in the other. He wore a navy suit that fit him perfectly, like he’d been born looking that good.
"I told you I work," I said, grabbing my bag. "I don’t need a lecture about being on time."
He walked toward me slow and steady, stopping just inches away. That familiar scent of his cologne wrapped around me like cool air. He looked me up and down, his eyes stopping right at my plain white collar.
"Better," he murmured. "But those shoes are terrible. We’ll fix that."
"My shoes are fine."
"Those are waitress shoes, Isabel. You work at Sterling Global now. Try to keep up."
I followed him out to a black Bentley.
The ride to the office was dead quiet. He spent the whole twenty minutes staring at his tablet, focused like nothing else existed. When we pulled up to Sterling Global headquarters, a tall glass tower reaching way up, my stomach twisted tight.
He didn’t show me around. He just moved like he was in his own world, leaving me feeling like I could barely breathe.
"Follow me. And keep quiet until I say otherwise," William said.
The elevator opened on the fiftieth floor. A woman with her hair pulled back so tight her forehead looked smooth stood at a desk. She looked up, glanced from William to me, and I saw the dislike hit her face right away.
"Sophia," William said. "This is Isabel Mayfield, the new intern. Give her the backlog from the Manchester merger. I want all audits checked by end of day."
Sophia’s lips curled into a sharp smile. "Of course, Mr. Sterling."
And just like that, he was gone into his office. Sophia turned to me, her face going cold. She dragged a stack of heavy cardboard boxes and slammed them onto a tiny, cramped desk in the corner.
"These hold paper invoices going back three years," she hissed. "Most of it’s already in the system, but William wants a manual check. Around a thousand pages. Get it done by tonight."
"By the end of the day?" I asked.
"You’re an intern. You learn how things work here. We don’t ask for extra time, Miss Mayfield. Now get to work."
I sat down in the hard chair. That mountain of paper looked like it would swallow me whole. I swallowed the tight lump in my throat. I couldn’t quit. I needed this money for the books sitting in my online cart, and the fees the school still wanted. I picked up the first page and started reading.
Five hours later, my eyes burned and my throat felt like sandpaper. I hadn’t had a sip of water since morning. Every time I looked up, I saw William through his glass office, but he never looked my way once.
By six PM the lights dimmed on their own. My fingers were smudged with ink. Then a shadow fell over my desk.
"You’re still here," William said.
"I’m not finished," I said, my voice rough and dry.
He stepped closer and picked up one of the big ledgers. "Sophia gave you this to break you," he said quiet. "It’s old useless data. None of it matters."
Hot anger flared up fast in my chest. "Then why did you let her give it to me?"
William leaned over, putting both hands on the desk so his face was level with mine. "Because I wanted to see if you’d quit," he whispered. "I wanted to see if you’d run crying to your mother."
"I don’t quit," I snapped back, leaning in until our faces were almost touching. "You just want to prove I’m no good so you can feel better about being cruel. But it’s not going to happen."
His eyes dropped to my lips, and this time he didn’t look away. He lifted his hand, his thumb brushing a smudge of ink on my cheek. He didn’t wipe it off, just dragged it a little, his skin warm on mine.
"You’re a mess, Isabel," he said, his voice mockingly soft. "Ink on your face. Cheap clothes. Tired eyes. Why not walk away from all this and go back home?"
"Never. For your information, stepbrother, I’m just getting started," I said, staring straight back at him.
He pulled back fast, like my look had stung him.
"Go home. The car is waiting downstairs. And Isabel?"
I looked up, my chest tight with frustration.
"Expect a lot more work tomorrow," he said, a dark glint in his eyes. "We’ll see if you can really stay."
He walked away without another word. The elevator doors closed behind him, leaving me alone with the hum of the lights and ink all over my hands.
His attitude was the most infuriating thing about him. I grabbed my bag and glanced at the empty office one last time.
"Give me real work tomorrow," I whispered to the quiet room. "Not garbage."
Downstairs the Bentley was waiting. But my blood was still hot. Tomorrow I’d show him I wasn’t here to play games. I was here to work...
- Writer
