"Oh my goodness ma'am, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry ma'am." The words rushed out of the man's lips in one breath, empty coffee cup in one hand.
He was short, with chestnut brown hair. He naturally had sad eyes, with the corners of his eyelids pointing towards the floor, but with the situation at hand, he appeared even sadder.
Amelia gave the man a belittling down then up sweep of her eyes, taking note that he was dressed in the deep blue cleaners uniform of the company.
"You unpleasant lowlife!" She breathed down on him. "Look at what you've done?"
"I didn't mean to– it..we…I got an emergency call and…and…" The poor cleaner's rambling faded off into a whimper the more vicious Amelia's eyes looked.
"Huhhh!" Amelia sighed exasperatedly. "When did I employ such a dumbo? Imagine I were to be a client important to this company or a potential investor and this…"— she looked down at her dress, she seemed to be looking for the right word to describe the ugly state of her dress— "... mishap happens on a Monday morning such as this one that was meant to start well. What would you tell such client?"
The cleaner's jaw wavered. "Uuh…uh.. b-but it's only a small stain."
"A small stain!" Amelia gasped. "Humph! You're giving me a wrinkle. What's your name?" She asked despite the five letters of his first name plainly written in bold letters on a tag clipped to the left side of his chest.
"L-larry ma'am."
"Larry," she repeated. "Of course." She rolled her eyes before setting a steady gaze on him. "Larry, you're clearly not beneficial to this company. I'd rather you seek employment somewhere else…" she made a steeple with her fingers. "...more fitting."
Larry's eyes expanded, his mouth fell open and a small burst of air escaped. "Ma'am."
"Receptionist!" Amelia yelled.
"Yes ma'am!" Bennie yelled back from his corner, his chair toppling over as he tried to show up in front of her in time. "Yes ma'am." He repeated, already panting.
"Put up a vacancy flyer for an appropriate cleaner would you?"
"Yes ma'am." Bennie nodded, casting a pitiful glance at Larry's way.
"And you," Amelia turned to Larry. "I wish you a better employment. Honestly." She scoffed and pushed past him towards the elevator.
Larry staggered off to the side.
"Ma'am. Please. I beg you. I-i'm sorry. It wasn't a small stain. It was a big stain and that was very clumsy of… Ma'am? Ma'am?" Larry continued to plead as the elevator door slid close.
Larry slumped to the floor on his knees unable to take the fact that he had just lost his job before a week was over. The onlooking employees could only shake their heads in sympathy as they returned to their work, leaving Larry staring at the cold walls of the elevator.
The elevator went up with the song as Amelia's only company. The higher it went, the more Amelia got impatient.
Ting! The elevator signalled its arrival at its destination which was the top floor that held only Amelia's office, her private secretary's corner, and a large conference room for very important meetings.
The sound from Amelia's heels echoed around the space of the top floor as she walked the distance to her office. Soft light spilled from the overhead ceiling and chandeliers. Everywhere was polished and sparkling clean, made with a creme and brown theme.
Her private secretary, with her hair nearly white blonde hair packed towards the back in a simple elegant bun and upper body sporting a crisp navy blue shirt and a white silk scarf tied around her neck, looked up from her work—already scribbling something— and stood up to greet her boss. Her eyes fell to the coffee stain, lingering for a second.
Amelia thought she was about to comment on it and straightened her shoulders daringly.
"Good morning ma'am." The personal secretary greeted.
Amelia exhaled approvingly. "Bring me a corporate dress. Something with a bold statement, somewhat intimidating but not eye-hurting, and definitely not white. Preferably a Givenchy."
"Yes ma'am."
"Twenty minutes. The interview starts ten minutes later. You can't be late."
"I understand ma'am."
Amelia twitched an approving smile at her and continued towards her office.
On her right was a bathroom, a carved-in section containing a circular table with three chairs around it and another room made entirely of glass with a bookshelf in it, a chair, and a couch. To her left were three peach-colored sofas shaped like an open box with a square tabletop raised on a circular platform in the centre having a bowl of golfballs placed in the middle. Directly in front of her was her work area which was situated in front of a large window that overlooked Wayne Central and gave a beautiful backdrop of blue skies and a bustling city.
Amelia walked towards it, placing her bag on the pitch-black surface of her curved desk as she passed by a potted ZZ plant to get into her seat. As she sunk into the plush comfort of the revolving chair, Amelia closed her eyes and engaged in a breathing exercise. Inhaling till her lungs were full and exhaling through a small outlet made with her lips. She did it over and over as she thought.
Today's going to be stressful, I can feel it already but you will be strong and not develop a single wrinkle on your skin.
Inhale.
Exhale.
Inhale.
Exhale.
"Ma'am." The Personal Secretary's voice floated into Amelia's meditation.
Amelia's eyes gently fluttered open to see her Personal Secretary standing with a hanger from which hung a bagged dark emerald dress.
Amelia stood up and walked over to the Personal Secretary. "I'll be out in five minutes. Wait for me."
"Yes ma'am."
True to her words, Amelia was out of that ruined-by-coffee suit and was now into her Givenchy midi dress with sleeves that stopped just below her biceps.
"Tell me, Mrs Rossi, is there anything this company is yet to give you that you think you are worthy of?" Amelia walked further away from the bathroom, her palms rubbing over one another.
"No, Miss Bronte. You've been of immense help to me and have given me what I deserve and even more ma'am."
Amelia stopped in front of Mrs Rossi. "Do you really have to go?"
"I'm afraid so ma'am." Mrs Rossi lowered her head regretfully.
"And you won't tell me why."
Mrs Rossi pressed her lips into a thin line and slowly shook her head. Amelia released a sigh as regretful as Mrs Rossi seemed, walking round the length of her table back to her chair.
That day was Mrs Rossi's last day of work and the interview that was about to take place was to find someone as efficient as her who would resume the next day.
"And there is nothing I can do to persuade you is there?" Amelia drew out the first drawer, picking out her chequebook and a pen.
"I'm afraid there is nothing ma'am."
Amelia scribbled and when she was done tore off the paper and stretched it towards Mrs Rossi.
"Add this to your pay-off."
Mrs Rossi accepted it and gasped as she read the amount, her eyes expanding. "Ma'am you don't have to."
"I want to. If you won't accept it, Salvatore will. After all his birthday is only a few weeks away. Get him something nice." Amelia tried a smile, a part of her getting emotional at Mrs Rossi's glossy eyes.
"Thank you so much, ma'am." She sniffled.
Amelia blinked and turned away. "Now Mrs Rossi. You're going to make the others think I fired you too with that teary look. We still have an interview today."
"Of course." Mrs Rossi nodded. "I'll have them come up now."
"Good." Amelia returned her gaze to her personal secretary. "Bronte's Jewelry will miss your service."
That was Mrs Rossi's signal that she was dismissed and with a grateful nod turned around to leave, the cheque neatly folded in her hand.
"I will miss your service," Amelia muttered as the door clicked close behind Mrs Rossi, and a mournful calm settled on Amelia even as she made her way to the smaller conference room where the interview will be held along with her head of Human resource department and Mrs Rossi.
However, the mournful calm dissipated into a nagging headache several minutes into the interview. All three interviews so far had been inappropriate, too annoying, or just not the one. You'd think Amelia was trying to pick a potential husband and bridesmaid from a list of people Tinder had suggested.
"Hellooooo." The fourth interviewee greeted in a singsong nosey voice that immediately had Amelia shaking her head in disapproval but one look at Mrs. Rossi and she was silently agreeing to give the interviewee a chance.
"Hello." My Head HR returned the greeting in an automated voice. "Welcome, and you are…"
"Payton Delaware sir." She answered, pumped-up lips spreading into a smile Amelia was tempted to ask her if it hurt to do so, as she struggled to pull down her extremely short red leather gown to give a little modesty while she settled into the seat.
"Payton Delaware, good. Taking a look at your CV, it says you have a GED from Belmont…"
"Yes."
"And worked at The Breakfast, Brunch and Coffee Arena about six months ago. You only worked there for three months, why is that so?"
"Oh, it's my boss." She started with a dismissive wave of her hand, earning a sharp jerk of Amelia's eyebrows unknowingly. "She has jealousy issues as it turned out."
"Care to explain what you mean by jealousy issues?" Amelia was suddenly interested.
"I think her husband, my boss, was attracted to me and they were having issues in their marriage. Then one day, she walked into the office and saw me trying to fix her husband's belt and made a huge scene."
"Is that so?" Amelia asked and looked at Mrs Rossi and the HR simultaneously who gave her a look of submission. They weren't going to interfere.
"Yes ma'am. She probably couldn't take the fact that I was simply attractive and found her way to make her husband fire me."
Amelia nodded in mock understanding already thinking of how she'd twist the story to steer people's sympathy towards her if Amelia eventually had reason to fire her should she eventually get the position.
"Hmm. What a tragic story Miss Delaware but your interview has ended now. We will return to you with feedback via email, hmm?"
An email that will never get to you. Amelia added in her head.
Payton smiled and extended a hand across the table towards Amelia. "Sure thing ma'am?"
Amelia stared at the hand as if bugs ran over it and transferred such gaze to Payton who suddenly understood what was going on. "Y-y es ma'am." She retracted her hand, stood up and left the room.
"Are we ever going to find a replacement?" Amelia grumbled, reaching for her cup of mediocre coffee which was the best that the closest café could offer. Its warmth seeped through the thin plastic into her fingers as she lifted it to her lips, wishing for the interview process to end already when the next interviewee walked in.
Ready to give whoever it was a get-over-with-it look, she flickered her gaze toward the person while taking another sip from her coffee. Suddenly everything seemed to freeze, except for him moving closer to her. It was impossible to peel her eyes off him. Not when he was the same gorgeous man who had showed up at her door wrapped up in a bow with a helium love balloon a year ago.
And for the second time that day, coffee left its mark on her dress.