Kelsey's POV
I was pretty sure our eyes met. Way too sure. That had to be the reason she was catwalking toward me.
And now, all attention fell on me.
"Kelsey!" she yelled my name, with a fucking smile on her face. Only if I could just rip those lips apart. "I didn't know you were here for a job. I mean... how can you even work here when you dropped out of college..." Gasp "Oh my! I wasn't supposed to say that out loud!"
I smirked. She was really toying with me. I stayed silent, eyes glued to her. Should I just hit her? But what if I don't get the job? That should be a good thing.
A secretary dressed in a peach shirt and black skirt walked out and checked the names on her list.
"Kate..." She called a name and paused when she saw Fiona. "Oh, you're here, Miss Doyle. Please come in," she said.
Fiona waved her hand stylishly and took one last glance at me before leaving. Everyone was still looking at me like I was some kind of loser, especially the girl beside me.
She looked even angrier than I was. Perhaps her name was Kate. She was the one who should have been called into the office instead of Fiona.
Just as Fiona was about to reach the door, the secretary locked eyes with me and gasped loudly. She checked the file in her hand repeatedly until she found my information. She looked at me, then back at the file.
"Oh, Miss Prescott! I deeply apologise for not recognizing you," she said.
Fiona stood by the door after hearing my name. She watched as the secretary walked to me and handed me a silver badge.
"This will allow you access to the tenth floor. You should head there and complete your contract, Miss."
Wait! Wait! Wait!
She can't be saying this in front of these people. Now Kate is definitely seeing me as an enemy.
"Hold on, peach girl," Fiona walked toward us, also looking upset.
Of course she gets to be interviewed by the Human Resources Manager while I get to meet the executive to complete my contract.
I bet she's thinking something like...
'How can she meet the executive but not me?'
"Miss Doyle, my name is—"
"I don't care whatever your name is," she snapped at the secretary, pointing her finger at me. "Could you explain what that thing is doing with access to the tenth floor and not me? I'm from the Doyle family, and my fiancé is second in line for the Greyson fortune. Yet you..."
"I'm afraid I cannot answer that question. The higher-ups were the ones who asked for Miss Prescott. They are the only ones who can answer your question, Miss Doyle," the secretary frowned, already getting pissed off.
If I were her, I'd be pissed off too.
"Please, Miss," she turned to me with a smile. I nodded and glanced at the others, who kept staring at me with anger and jealousy.
I walked to the elevator and pressed the button. Fiona looked like her veins were about to pop out of her head.
That was so satisfying.
But still, why am I meeting the executive? Is this my father's doing again?
Tsk.
I reached the office, and just like the secretary said, I was allowed in after security scanned my silver badge.
The huge double doors opened, and I was led into a massive office. There, a tall man with a grey beard and round glasses stood close to the transparent glass, staring down at the street.
He noticed my presence and turned around. There was a huge cigar between his fingers.
His eyes lit up when he saw me.
"Oh, you must be Kelsey," he walked toward me.
"Uhm, hello sir," I said, wanting to lower my head, but he reached me before I could.
"You don't have to do that. Your father and I are good friends," he placed his hand around my shoulder, and I felt so uncomfortable as he walked me to the couch.
"Thank you, sir," I replied, sliding out of his hold. I sat opposite him, and he smiled, taking the seat on the other side.
"Welcome to Buzz Bulletin Company. BBC for short," he dramatically spread his arms apart before giving me a smile. "Your father told me you needed work here... Don't worry, I know his plans," he smiled.
This man was also working with my father. So annoying.
He clapped his hands, and his secretary walked in with an envelope. He took out my contract, and I read through it.
After thirty minutes, I signed it.
He also signed it and gave me my copy.
"You're now a part-time journalist working for me," he said. "I heard you have a daughter. That's the reason you'll be clocking out before 4 PM."
"I know, sir. It's written in the contract."
"Great. It won't be difficult for you to meet a lot of officers from the private military company. As long as I select you for the job, you'll find it easy to get someone to work for your father. Do you understand?" he asked, and I nodded like an obedient lab rat.
"However, even if you don't have anything on your schedule, you should visit the company to get familiar with the employees and the work schedule. Your office will be ready by the end of today," The man sprang up from his seat, ready to walk toward me, but I immediately stood up.
"Yes, sir. Thank you for your time. I guess I'll begin work tomorrow," I said with a fake smile.
As if he knew my motive, he still walked toward me and took my hand in his.
He kissed my knuckles while staring at me and rubbing my hand with his thumb.
I pulled my hand away and gave one last nod before leaving.
Christ! I've never felt this disgusted before.
Without wasting time, I rushed to the nearest bathroom and scrubbed my hands until they turned red.
"I can't believe I have to work with a pervert!" I groaned in frustration and turned off the faucet.
I lifted my head and saw the reflection of someone standing behind me.
Of course, it had to be her.
Fiona Doyle.
"Look who finally walked out of the tenth floor. I knew it! The only thing you could offer to get a job here is your... body," she grinned, folding her arms. I picked a napkin near the sink, wiped my hands clean, and tossed it into the bin.
"At least I have something to offer," I turned to her with a grin. "But... what can you offer? Nothing! The only talent you have is taking things that don't belong to you."
She clenched her fists, biting her lower lip.
"How dare you insult me after offering your body? You're a slut!"
"Slut?" I repeated as I walked closer to her. Seeing the anger flashing across my face, she stepped back, and I followed.
"Are... are you going to hit me?" she stuttered, her back hitting the wall.
"Hit you? Don't you think it would hurt?" I asked, tilting my head to the side.
"Of course. If I get hurt, my father would—"
"You? I wasn't talking about you. I meant my hand. I wouldn't want to hit your plastic face," I interrupted her.
Her mouth widened in horror. Seemed like I was right about her getting plastic surgery. How else would she have made Cassian fall for her?
My phone dinged, breaking my thoughts.
It was a message from him.
My father.