Tailor my heart

chapter two

Hailey's POV

I had to admit, I was a tad bit scared.

My mind had hovered over the idea of the CEO firing me before I could even start my job. But hopefully, he might be too busy to think about what I did.

"What were you doing in the executive elevator, Miss Jones?" Mr Sutton asked again.

With my heart pounding so hard against my chest, I replied, faking a smile. "Good morning, Mr Sutton- I didn't know it wasn't meant for the employees." I replied, matter-of-factly.

"Rule number one." He stated. "Never, ever use the executive elevator except being invited by the directorates." He warned, sternly.

I nodded. "Yes sir."

"Follow me."

Without a second thought, I followed him into his office. He sat across the table, his black eyes assessing me. Maintaining my poise like I always do so flawlessly, I put on a charming smile.

"Rule number two." He raised two fingers up. "Don't ever come late to work, a minute after, is highly untolerated."

I steadied my gaze on Mr Sutton as he went on and on about rules. Mr Sutton was a middle-aged man, probably in his early fifties. With the thick lens he had on, he seemed as though he was someone with a philosophic mind. He was stout and short, bearded but bald.

"Rule number three. Dress decently. Though I must say, what you are wearing today is quite commendable and elegant."

I grinned. "thank you, sir."

His eyes through the thick lens scanned his desk for a while, picking up a memo pad, he tossed it to me.

Unsure of what to do with it, I awaited further instructions.

"Study it." He handed an iPad to me. "Use this to communicate with the CEO, especially when it is time for his meetings and any other information that could come up without his notice."

I took it from him, studying his schedule that was boldly displayed on the screen. Was this all to be done in one day? How come the CEO still seem so upright? If I was the one in his position, I would have been in a bent posture by now, aided with a walking stick.

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MONDAY'S SCHEDULE

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1. 8:20AM -9:20AM |meeting with the designing department|

2. 9:45 AM - 11:00AM|lecturing Albany high school, eleventh graders on how to create a goal and pursue it|

I smiled at that one, basically it was the same as the dream I had this morning.

3. 11: 30AM- 13:00PM |meeting with the board of directors|

4. 13:00PM-13:30PM|renewal of contract with the models|

5. 14:00PM|A visit to his mother at the hospital|

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The list of intended events went on and on. But I stopped at number five. A slight pain tugged my chest as I read it over and over again. I couldn't imagine what my world would be like if my mom was very sick. And the nostalgia of our happy memories hit me back, hard.

Mr Sutton, who had been busy, studying me all along, finally cleared his throat, impulsively to regain my attention.

I raised my head to look at him.

"Over there, is your office." He indicated the corner at the end of the large room, facing directly the CEO'office. "I think the CEO would need you now."

I nodded and made to walk away.

"And yes, Miss Jones." I retracted my steps and turned. "Knock twice before entering." He looked away from me to his computer, signalling the end of his statement. So I left.

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Casting a perfunctory glance at my desk, I eyed the collection of fashion magazines set aside at the edge of the brawny desk. The instant urge to check them out surge to the forefront of my brain but I shoved them down at once. Instead, I knocked softly on the CEO's door, twice.

"Come in." Was the soft response on the other side.

Oh! So he does speak after all.

His intensed gaze held mine the moment I walked into his office. The room was awfully quiet, reasonating only the sound my stilletos made as I strode forward.

Series of thoughts on what transpired between us in the elevator played through my head and my mind spinned out of its axis. Should I apologise for calling him rude? I could lie, saying I was on a phone call or something, hell no, that sounded so ridiculous because I said it to his face.

Oh Hailey! You should have just ignored him earlier. I scolded myself.

"Good morning Sir." I said, still beaming my fake-ass smile, hoping it could charm my way into his heart a little bit. "I'm so sorr-"

He tossed his right hand in the air, halting me from completing my statement.

"Shut it!"

His tone, powerful and condescending.

My brows furrowed and the smile plastered on my face vanished.

His green eyes held mine. Although they flickered with acrimony and hostility, they were still beautiful.

"You defied my company rule and termed me rude. I don't think there is anything I'd like to hear from you."

My heart dropped to my stomach, I contemplated what next to say. I opened my mouth to say something, but no words came out, so I shut them back, tight. For the first time in my life, I felt so dumb, not sure of what to do or what to say. So I just stood there, staring right at him.

"What do you want, woman?" He asked with that same condescending tone that ripped my heart into pieces.

In as much as I wanted to get the hell out of his office to the comfort of my room, I couldn't bring myself to do it. Pursuing one's dream was quite hard and this was just a foresight. I was not willing to screw this chance up for anything.

"I'm your new secretary." I finally brought myself to say.

For a moment, he looked away from me. I watched his countenance slowly slipped from rage to disappointment.

"Who the hell hired you?"

That question welled up fear and uncertainty.

"Mr Sutton."

His blue eyes met mine once more.

"What is your name?"

"Hailey Jones."

I felt somewhat parched of a sudden, so I swallowed, hard.

"Well, Miss Jones, do me a favour and get the hell out of my sight!"

"But-"

"I said get out!" He raised his tone at me. All the poise I built up until this moment, fell to the floor instantly.

With my shattered pride, I walked out his office and closed the door loudly behind me.

Who does he think he is? Was this what I was going to be working with? An arrogant uncouthed bloke, who believed he could say anything to anyone just because he is at a higher advantage? He wasn't even that older than I am. Perhaps, in his late twenties or early thirties. So what the hell gave him the damn right to speak to me in such an unruly manner?

I paced back and forth, surging with rage through my entire body.

"Hana, Dhul, set, net, daseot, yaseot." I counted numbers in hangul language, hoping it would calm my nerves as it always does. But it did not work this time around. So I repeated it again. "Hana, dhul, set, net, daseot, yaseot, ilgob, yeo-deol, ah-ho-"

I literally gained the knowledge of hangul language from watching lots and lots of Korean drama and consistent study through YouTube. The method of counting wasn't evaded, I discovered it from one of my favorite Korean drama, titled secret garden. Since then, it had been helping me, a lot.

His door made a creaking noise, signalling that he was about to walk out. Quickly, I dashed towards my seat and buried my head in the memo pad Mr Sutton had issued me earlier.

He casted a cursory glance at me, cleared his throat before walking away.

I stared after his retreating figure with seething rage. Curse you! Mr Kolton! Curse you!

My right hand clenched into fist and squeezed the memo pad so hard that it ripped.

That jolted my attention back to the table. I gasped as soon as I realized what I had done. Gently, I began to flatten, straighten and smoothen each note on the memo pad, then I noticed a weird and wrinkly note attached to its end.

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It's so hard working for him, he is rude, arrogant and doesn't even know how to appreciate anyone, not even a little bit. I quit without regret, and I wish you luck, dear successor.

Your sincerely,

Former secretary.

°

My eyes lingered on the small paper for a while and I was laced with awe. It dawned on me that this arrogant attitude of his was a norm. Enough to make his previous secretary quit. I wasn't one to give up on my dreams though. Atleast, not yet.

I found the little piece of information quite motivating.

Mr William Kolton could be rude, arrogant, uncouthed and condescending to me. But I would make sure it wouldn't be enough to weigh me down.

I tore the paper into shred, tossing the tiny bit of pieces into the small trash can beneath my desk.

Unlike other secretaries that must have worked under him, I would never, ever quit because of him.