Harley
Seattle summer wasn't my favourite part of the year. Especially on this side of the city. The sun was warm and bright, as I skimmed past the crowds of beige and grey pant suits. My legs ache from walking all the way from the sub station to the fifth block. Athletics wasn't really my forte. Especially when I had jell-O legs. And then there's this sickening feeling that comes with living in Seattle. The roads know no end. Every lane turns into another that leads to some strange end of this maze of a city, and although I have been doing this for years now, I can't seem to get tired of it. Not anytime soon.
When I arrived at Park Avenue, I stopped to adore the giant grey building, with its steel panels, and shining glass. A gasp escaped my lips, as my wild bangs made their way down to my forehead and I cursed the lack of Bobby pins in my bun. If only I had listened to Abuela… the thought crossed my head, and I couldn't help but clench harder on the strap of my briefcase. It's just gonna be one of those days. I assured myself, walking through the swivelling glass door.
A cold grey exterior covered the interior of the building. A steel inscribed gleaming on the wall. JAX Inc. No, JAX's wasn't a place where they did cool stuff involving the government. Even though the place did seem the type to hone tech savvy nerds with their gleaming, rectangular glasses sitting on the other side of the screen as they saved the world. In all truth. JAX's was a place for the most boring job in the world. Accountants. JAX's offered digital solutions, a very lame front for what they really did. They managed accounts, and channelled out cloud storage spaces for MNCs. Bizzare and boring. And highly lethargic.
I walked to the elevator, waiting for the metal vessel to arrive as I jabbed the buttons into the board. Please, don't let it be crowded… please. Please… I mumbled a prayer, my hands digging into the pocket of my skirt, as I looked at my reflection on the elevator's door. A red silk blouse with puffed sleeves, paired with a knee length skirt that almost made me look like I was formal. Almost. My dark raven hair was bunched up in a bun. I hate doing updos, but with summer like these, you can't really let all the strands loose. My face looked pale, as I bit my lip.
Ting.
I was still lost in my thoughts when the elevator arrived. Taken aback, I took a step back as the doors fledged open. A small group of men, all dressed in black, exited as I waited for my turn to enter. I took a step in, as my pumps clicked against the metal floor.
The door closed behind me as I turned around, to see a figure walking in my direction. The metal doors slid inwards, when I could make out the sharp nose, and intense grey eyes a few feet away.
"Hold the door, Byners," A cold dark voice said, and I could feel my knees knocking as a shiver ran down my spine. My lips parted to make out what was happening, and before I knew it, a hand slipped between the door and the doors skimmed open.
"Mr. Seifred," My voice was an almost whisper, when he walked into the tiny space of the elevator. He yielded a navy blue paint suit. Underneath he wore a satin black shirt, with golden cufflinks shining under the elevator lights. His hair was charcoal black, almost ebony; gelled back. His intense grey eyes looked into mine, as his square jaw clenched into a line. His plush pink lips sitting pursley, as I swallowed the lump in my throat.
He moved closer, till we were only an inch apart. His mouth was strangely close to my cheek when he leaned in. I could feel his breath warm against my cheek as my nerves wrecked on the inside. What's wrong with this man?
"When you are asked to hold the door, you gotta do as instructed… Byners." He whispered with his exhilarating voice, and almost obedient to the command, I nodded slightly.
"You don't speak much, do you?" He said, straightening his collar as she stood straight. He leaned against the elevator wall, and I waited for the elevator to speed up.
For some reason, this man always had the ability to get on my nerves. Alfred Seifred, thirty, and devilishly handsome was the heartthrob of the Bachelor's Magazine in Prime Time Seattle. Who wouldn't want to be in the company of a man who looked like the face of Vogue? Except that the reality was far from it…
"No. I don't." The responses were hard to form, given the close proximity between us. And I for one, don't want to get fired for being a smart mouth.
"Well, good for you. Are you still wearing your church clothes to work?" This bastard. That's exactly what I was talking about.
"Maybe. If only I was not underpaid…" I mumbled under my breath. My eyes are dying to roll in my lids when I let out a sigh.
"Oh well… do you mean we don't respect equal pay here?" His dark eyebrows cocked together and almost as an instinct I bite into my lip.
"I guess so." I whispered in the small of my voice.
"What do you mean? If you got any problem write to HR. Also, maybe if you could only work a little harder…" His tone was full of mockery, as he glanced at his wrist watch.
"You are fifteen minutes late to work…as such." A smug smile made it to his face.
"I am sorry." I said, my head hanging low as I could only count moments to the hundred and eighth floor. Every moment felt closer to hell with this man.
"I am sorry what? Have you forgotten your manners, Byners?" He scoffed.
When I tell you Alberto Seifred is a coveted jerk. I am not even lying.
"Sorry, Sir Alberto." I babbled. My fists curled into a ball, as I held tighter into my briefcase.
"You better be." He said, and the elevator tinged again.
Oh, fucking finally!
I let out a sigh as the doors clicked open at the hundred and eight floor. Like the haughty buffoon he is, I waited for him to exit first, taking the time to recollect my thoughts.
"By the way, Byners… Red suits you." He said, turning back, as a ghost of a smile lingered on his face and I felt my knuckles turn white.
What a two faced asshole!