I looked at the clock, it was 4:14.
For the last hour or so I had been trying to rush a bit to finish a bit early and freshen up before going up for the meeting. Also, I needed to arrive early, as I wanted to make a good impression.
'I need everything to be perfect. I can't afford more mishaps in my life.'
After a good while, I looked at the clock again: 4:19
'Gosh, time is excruciatingly slow today, damn it!'
Finally, the clock reached 4:40, after what seemed like an eternity. And having the permission of Mr Letterman to finish early, I rushed out to the bathroom to make sure I was presentable.
My ponytail looked a bit worse for wear after wearing it all day, so I re-did it, securing a few loose strands with pins. I looked at the mirror and saw my tired face on the reflection.
I sighed. I didn't sleep too well last night…
Usually, I don't wear too much make-up, but today I couldn't be bothered so I only applied light blush & lip balm. As I carried some basics with me, I washed my face a few times to freshen up, hoping the cold water would tone down my dark circles.
Cleaning out the rest of my BB cream, I wiped my face and applied it again, along with some blush, mascara and a soft touch of lipstick. I fixed my brows quickly with a pencil, cause that was something I didn't like missing if I was wearing make-up.
I looked at my reflection over once more, this time, feeling a bit better at the girl staring back at me, and I mentally gave myself a pep talk to prepare.
'You'll be fine, just make sure you don't trip or do something too embarrassing. Mind your words and manners.'
It should be fine. I just have to be myself, just a little bit more mindful not to get carried away with nerves or excitement.
I took a deep breath, stood tall and walked over to the door.
Just then, a woman came in and almost hit me with the door in the face. I jumped back, startled.
'Great, I almost make it to the meeting with a big bump in my head'.
"I'm sorry, I should have opened the door so suddenly, I didn't hit you, right?" the woman apologized.
I assured her I was fine and got on my way so I wouldn't be late. Great, now the nerves got mixed with that little scare and my heart is beating crazy loudly.
As I got into the elevator, I found it empty, not many people were going up at this hour and much less to the top floor. I took advantage of the moment to try to steady my heart.
---
My feet bounced impatiently while I sat outside Mr Rowley's office.
With so many curveballs my way, especially these past few days, it was impossible for me not to be intimidated and nervous. Despite my attempts to stay calm, my mind raced with a flurry of thoughts and scenarios, each one more daunting than the last. Maybe I wasn't ready for this meeting after all. But then again, when would I ever be?
I had already informed Mr Rowley's secretary of my arrival, and she had assured me that he would see me promptly at 5 p.m. Still, each passing minute felt like an eternity, and I found myself glancing at the clock every few seconds.
Finally - after what seemed like forever - the secretary appeared at the door with a warm smile. "Miss Walker, Mr Rowley is ready for you now."
Her voice snapped me out of my daze, and I quickly stood up, trying to steady my nerves as I thanked her and followed her into Mr Rowley's office. My nerves did not get better as I walked closer and came to stand before a giant wooden door that you could tell was made of fine, expensive wood. In the middle of it, rested a big golden plate with "Mr Edward Rowley" engraved on it.
I took a deep breath and lifted my hand to knock, not failing to notice how it was shaking.
"Come on in." Said a deep voice on the other side.
As I stepped inside, I was greeted by the sight of a spacious, well-appointed office, furnished with a mix of classical wooden pieces and sleek, modern accents. The atmosphere was one of quiet sophistication, with an air of professionalism that seemed to permeate the room.
And there, behind a large mahogany desk, sat Mr. Rowley himself. He looked every bit the successful CEO, with his immaculate attire and confident demeanour. His piercing green eyes met mine as I entered, and for a moment, I felt a jolt of nervousness shoot through me. But then I reminded myself to stay calm and composed, to present myself in the best possible light.
"Mr Rowley, it's a pleasure to have the chance to meet you," I said, trying to keep my voice steady despite the butterflies in my stomach. "I'm Abigail Walker."
He nodded in acknowledgement; his expression serious yet not unkind. His green eyes behind the small round glasses had a spark and seemed full of wisdom, other than that, he was the same man I remember seeing in the lecture a few years back, with his hair pulled back and neatly trimmed bear that now had more white patches than that then.
"It's nice to meet you, Mis Walker, I heard a lot of good things about you, and this is no small feat, seeing as you've only been in the company for two months... Yet, you are already making a name for yourself. Are you after my position, young girl?"
His question about whether I was after his position caught me off guard, and I couldn't hide the shock in my expression. My eyes widened involuntarily, revealing more of my emotions than I intended.
To my relief, Mr Rowley burst into laughter, instantly diffusing the tension in the room. "I was only joking, please come over and sit."
As I took my seat, I felt some of my composure returning. Despite his initial seriousness, Mr Rowley seemed far more approachable than I had anticipated. He exuded a sense of politeness and humility, qualities I hadn't expected from someone of his status.
With my nerves settling, I decided to answer his question honestly. "I understand it was a joke, but if I may, I'd like to answer you." He nodded for me to continue. Mr Rowley nodded, encouraging me to continue. "I'm not after your specific position. However, I am eager to advance within Rowley & Associates and willing to work hard for it. I won't lie, eventually, I hope to open my own business, just as you did in your youth, but first, I want to learn from the best."
Mr. Rowley listened intently, nodding thoughtfully as I spoke. "I see. You have spirit, that's for sure," he remarked, a glint of admiration in his eyes. "I like and respect a woman with so much determination and the boldness to express her aspirations."
I couldn't help but smile in response to his praise. It was a rare and affirming moment to receive validation from someone I admired.
As our conversation continued, Mr. Rowley asked me various questions about my goals, offering occasional insights and advice along the way. Despite his busy schedule, he showed a genuine interest in my aspirations, patiently listening as I shared my ambitions.
From time to time, I reminded myself that I was having this kind of talk with one of the richest men in the country, and I couldn't help but be surprised that I was in this position.
After a while, I began to feel more comfortable in his presence, my initial apprehension naturally changing to a sense of ease. With a newfound confidence, I seized the opportunity to ask the question that had been on my mind since the morning.
"I hope you'll forgive my bluntness, but patience isn't my forte," I admitted, unable to contain my curiosity any longer. "Can I ask why you called me here?"