The Billion Dollar Question

"Ding!" A gust of air hit my desk. She walked out of the elevator, chilling the air. "Anastasia! Are you sure this is what you want to do?" said a man following her to her office. I watched them through her glass office doors from my desk. The man with her seemed very angry with her, but she was so relaxed. She leaned back on her desk, facing the man and the door. We made eye contact. "Oh s**t," I looked down at my desk and pretended to do something. The man left, and I felt that chill in the air again. "Good morning," Mr. Richarson. I looked up. "Good morning, Mrs. Smith." Her eyes were so sharp looking down at me that I felt as if my heart had stopped. "Is something the matter I asked?" She had this puzzled look on her face as if she was laughing at me, but her eye contact didn't break. "Well, I'm waiting for my schedule for the day. You know your job?" My face got hot. Well, yes, today-" She cut me off. "We'll move this conversation to my office. Thank you." I got up, grabbed my notes, and followed her.