"Hi," she almost shouts. She always seems to be doing that when she's too excited. "Is there an employee parking section?" The man gestures to the left with his head. She lets her eyes wander over his combed over, dark brown hair, green eyes, and black suit. "Thanks so much," she smiles and puts her window back up, driving slowly towards the spot where the man indicated and looking into her side view mirrors to watch him. He opens a big glass door and disappears. She shuts her car and takes a deep breath. Pursing her lips she takes one last look in her rear view mirror. No remnants of breakfast in her teeth; check. She opens her door and her heels clack on the pavement as she makes her way towards the same building the stranger had just went into.
She grasps the steel handle and pushes. The door doesn't budge. She pushes again. "It's a pull." Am arm adoring silver bracelets peeking out of a white sleeve reaches around and pulls the door open. "Oh," Amanda blushes profusely and thanks the woman.
They step into the air conditioned building. A man behind a desk nods at them. Amanda stops and walks over to him. "I'm looking for Mrs. Raydon's office." The man smirks and the same white sleeved arm taps Amanda's shoulder. "That's me, dear." Amanda almost smacks herself on the forehead but lets out a nervous giggle instead. "Amanda," the older woman says slowly. Amanda nods and the woman smiles; little creases form at the corners of her piercing blue eyes. "Excellent. Excited for your first day?" "Very." "Good. Come with me." They walk across the floor and Mrs. Raydon presses the elevator button. They both face the chrome doors and don't speak. The elevator arrives with a lingering ding and they step on. Mrs. Raydon presses the button for the 6th floor. "Have you been an assistant before?" She turns to Amanda as the doors slide shut and the elevator hums as they move up. "No ma'am, my first time." "It's simple really, but as you get more acquainted and have better training, you'll be on your own in a matter of time." Amanda smiles and thinks about herself behind a big desk with a nameplate typing away on a computer, reading congratulatory emails.
The elevator reaches the floor and they step out. The walls have framed pictures of runway models strategically placed and underneath each was a plaque. "This one is from Spring, 2009." Mrs. Raydon holds a manicured hand out to a picture on the wall next to a large, plotted plant. Amanda steps over to it and reads the models name and year of the collection on the plaque. "It's beautiful," Amanda remarks. "Good," Mrs. Raydon says, "your first article will be on this picture." Amanda bites on her bottom lip. "Okay," she says. It comes out uneasy and she knows it. She really wanted to sound ready for the challenge, but she really wasn't. An article? On the first day? "Don't worry, I'll give you a few or look at to help you get started." "Okay," Amanda repeats, firmer this time.
Mrs. Raydon leads the way to her office. The hallway is quiet but Amanda can hear murmuring behind closed doors. As if she could read her thoughts, Mrs. Raydon says, "everyone is in different meetings right now. Monday morning meetings." She laughs. "There are meetings for the magazine including article writers, illustrators, graphic designers, and so forth. Those are the meetings you'll be in. All the others are relatively financial."
They enter a plush carpet room. The scent of the fresh roses in a vase on the desk smell amazing. "You can take a seat for now, I just have to print a few things out." Amanda sits on a leather chair and rolls her ankle. Her feet ache from the heels but she's willing to wear them for this job.
Mrs. Raydon drapes her jacket on the back of her chair and places her designer bag on the dress. She puts on a pair of glasses and inspects the computer screen. Within seconds the printer near the window comes to life. Amanda looks around the room, the walls are painted the faintest pink they could be mistaken for white it one doesn't look close enough. She can't imagine a speck of dust in this office. Then she thinks, even the dust must be clean. Mrs. Raydon's cell phone rings. "Yes," she answers. She says "yes" again and smiles at Amanda. "I don't know," she instantly frowns and walks towards the window. Amanda admires her slender frame. Mrs. Raydons voice is low as if she doesn't want to be heard. Voices fill the hallway and drown out Mrs. Raydons conversation. A blonde steps into the room and Mrs. Raydon hangs up. "Isabelle," Mrs. Raydon says adoringly. She holds out her arms and the blonde holds out her silk covered arms and they hold hands and kiss the air. "How was Belize?" Mrs. Raydon rests a hand on her desk and the other on a hip. "Absolutely wonderful," the blonde says sweetly. "Jason has all the photographs." Amanda looks down subconsciously at the carpet. "I do look forward to seeing them," Mrs. Raydon gushes. "Oh!" She cries out. "How awful of me, Isabelle this is Amanda," Amanda looks up. "My new assistant," she continues. Isabelle raises her eyebrows and Mrs. Raydon nods. Amanda gets up and holds out her hand. Isabelle looks down at it and carefully puts her hand in Amanda's. It feels like holding a skeleton hand. Amanda hadn't noticed how thin the girl was. Her cheekbones were abnormally high giving her cheeks a sunken look, and her collarbones were sharp and precise. Amanda feels small next to the two women even though she figures she weighs the same as both of them together if not more.
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