[Mandy's Diary Today]
Damn! I was late for the interview as agreed! Hurriedly, I ran through some of the people who met me to meet Mrs. Mason, once the editor-in-chief of the fashion magazine where I would later work. One hundred percent I would get this job. Let's see later.
"Excuse me! Excuse me!" I shouted to ward off the shoulders of people who were in my way while holding some files in envelopes.
The elevator door was about to close before I finally barged inside by tilting my body like the slimming commercial models on television. Phew, almost. A wide grin tugged at my lips as several people in the elevator exchanged intimidating looks. Slowly the smile disappeared from my face, turning into a wry chuckle. I tapped my stiletto heels on the floor as I watched my appearance reflected on the elevator walls. I smoothed a few strands of my hair that was sticking out a mess. A few seconds, after pinning my fingers through my hair, the elevator doors opened to reveal a wider room filled with glamorously dressed people. I stepped confidently out of the elevator, turning left at Candice's directions.
There was a middle-aged woman with pale blonde hair waiting behind the table, holding the receiver to her left ear. I stopped in front of the desk, looking at the woman's badge that said 'Annette'.
"Is there anything I can help you with?" in the end she gave me her attention after hanging up the phone?
"I want to meet Mrs. Mason."
"Have you got an appointment?"
"Yes. I have an interview with her."
Annette typed something on her keyboard. "Name?"
"Amanda Bedington."
Annette's fingers moved skillfully to touch the keyboard. A few moments later, she turned to me while adjusting the location of his slightly drooping glasses. "Sorry, Mrs. Bedington, you are about two minutes late and Mrs. Mason doesn't tolerate anyone's tardiness in her office. So please come next Sunday."
WHAT THE FUCK.
I slid my lips inside while tightening my palms into fists. I cast a playful glance at this blonde woman who somehow reminded me of Rebekah Hills. "I skipped my breakfast, was driving a car that broke down on the street, almost got hit by a car twice, and almost got caught in an elevator door, now you're telling me to come back next Sunday?" My eyes widen. "I want to see Carmen Mason right now."
"Sorry, Mrs. Bedington. But you're two minutes late."
"Seriously?" Because two minutes late, I was told to come back next Sunday?
"I still have a lot of work to do. Please come back next Sunday."
My palm slapped Annette's desk. I took a deep breath to think of a way to get inside. Come on think, Mandy, think so you could go inside and meet Carmen soon. My eyes moved to glance at Annette who was busy with her computer. I inhaled filling my lungs with air. The next second, I pretended to groan in pain by touching my head, staggering away from the secretary's desk.
"Help me!" I squealed under my breath, groaning in pain while glancing at Annette who was looking at me in shock. She hastily rushed over to me, touching my shoulder to confirm my condition.
"What is wrong with you?" she asked a little panicked.
"My head hurts!" I groaned, hunched over while pressing my head pretending to be in pain. "Give me some warm water, please. It's a severe end-stage migraine. Please!"
"What migraine?" Annette frowned. "Are you serious?"
"I'm serious, Blonde!" my throat. "Please get some warm water or anything that can help me, Please! Don't call an ambulance because I'm scared of the siren!"
"A-alright!" She bit his trembling fingers, then walked away from me into another corridor—presumably to get something I needed. As soon as Annette disappeared behind the wall, I finished my role and looked at her with amused laughter.
Before she came back, I better hurry into Carmen's room while tidying up my blazer and hair. Several people passed by me, examining my appearance from top to bottom with appraising eyes. I wrinkled my nose getting such an intimidating stare.
On the other end, I saw a middle-aged woman busy with a large journal in front of her. I cleared my throat slowly, getting his attention. Carmen straightened up to see me. She took off her glasses and put them neatly next to her journal.
"I'm Amanda Bedington," I said, giving my best smile.
"Oh, you're five minutes late into my room, Mrs. Bedington," she replied sarcastically without a tune. I can't believe her voice is more terrifying than Grandma Magdalena's.
"I apologize for being late. I had a lot of trouble coming here, Mrs. Mason. Oh, you probably don't care for any reason. But, I'm sorry." Please, please, please, let me have an interview, please, please, please.
Carmen took a deep breath. She pointed to the chair in front of her, which made my eyes widen in disbelief. With cheerful steps, I walked over to the table and sat in front of it. I handed her the envelope in my hand. Her piercing eyes stared at me for a few seconds.
"Are you an English Literature graduate?" she asked nonchalantly, opening the envelope and reading through the bundle of papers in her hands.
"Yeah, along with Candice Fields who also works here as an editor—"
Carmen interrupted me by saying, "Work experience or achievements?" She closed the bundle of papers when I replied to his question.
"I… am the best graduate." To give a friendly impression, I flashed an overdose smile.
Nodding, Carmen shifted the bundle of my job application papers next to her journal, then positioned herself to be more comfortable. Her gray eyes stared at me intently.
"Sorry, Amanda—"
"Just call me Mandy, Miss."
Carmen who still opened her mouth didn't seem interested in my request. "I don't care about your name," she hissed quietly. I swear she's scarier than She-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. "I can't accept you as an editor here."
A pair of eyebrows raised upwards with wide eyeballs almost out of their sockets. "What?"
"Yeah, I think…" She glanced at me intently like a metal detector. "You're not fit to be a magazine editor here at all. However, I have another offer, a position as Mr. Sullivan's assistant is still empty. Want to try?"
ASSISTANT, SHE SAYS? I held my breath for a while, then exhaled briefly before replying, "Assistant? Bloody hell, why bother being an assistant here when I can become general manager at my husband's company?!"
"Then please leave if you don't want to accept the job I've offered you, Mrs. Bedington."
God damn it. Be patient, Mandy. You want to be the editor here, right? Just approach the big boss here and you can be appointed editor. The devil on my shoulder whispered suggesting that. That is true! I just need to be patient to get a job as an editor—even if it could be editor-in-chief to shift the pretentious woman in front of me right now.
Holding back a growl of annoyance, I smiled broadly, an over-dose smile. "Okay. I accepted a job as an assistant to Mr. Sullivan."
Mr. Sullivan… is he as handsome as Candice says? If he's so handsome, I'm willing to be his assistant. Think of it as a jackpot.