The sound of heels echoed through the entrance of Wayland Enterprise. The marbled floors made it difficult for Clary to be quiet as she walked toward the reception desk. She didn't have to look around to know that she was being watched by everyone on the first floor. Her bright, auburn-red hair and green eyes weren't very common and had the tendency to stick out.
"Hi. I am Ms. Morgenstern. I have an interview with a, uh-," She paused taking her phone out to glance at the email. "-With Mr. Herondale." She realized she probably sounded like an idiot showing up to an interview not knowing who she was meeting.
"Top floor," the lady said.
That's weird. She must have been doing this all day Clary considered. Without another word, the lady turned back to her computer and began typing. With a turn of her heel, Clary started to the nearest elevator. There were a few people crowded around it, all of which seemed to know each other due to the conversation held during the wait.
All the sudden, everyone began to scatter. Most went towards the door that read "Stairs" on it. Clary glanced around only to see one male next to her. His blonde locks hung over his eyes. The man wore a grey suit that looked like it had been tailored perfectly. She noticed that it clung tightly in all the right places.
Ding!
The doors slowly opened to show an empty space. She looked back to her right again to offer the blonde to go in first, but he still had his face angled down at phone. Instead, she faced forward and walked onto the platform. "You coming' or are you going to wait another five minutes to catch the next one," she said to the beautiful man in front of her.
His head shot up in shock. Who was this man? Her breath caught when his eyes met hers. They revealed an amazing color of gold and showed very little emotion. His mouth stayed in a straight line as he looked her body up and down. "I suppose I could catch this one," he replied smiling a little.
Clary nodded as he walked inside turning to left and clicking the floor he needed. She assumed that he was a lawyer based off his attire and short attitude. "Oh, um, do you mind hitting the 10th floor button?" Her cheeks began to warm as he turned revealing that the button was lit.
"Are you interviewing for the assistant position for Mr. Herondale?" He said with a small smile creeping onto his face.
"Yeah, I am. Do you know much about him? There are a few rumors going around that he goes through a lot of assistants," Clary asked nervously.
"Oh, I know him very well. As for the assistants, they are never really that good. All great resumes, but none have lived up to them. I also hear he looks like a god and that very few women can stand to resist his good looks," he said jokingly.
Clary could feel a smile creep onto her face as he spoke. " That's about to change I guess," she said proudly. She highly doubted that anyone could be anymore sexy than the gentleman standing next to her. She also wasn't into the dating a coworker thing. It may be exciting, but rules are rules for a reason. The door opened into a large waiting area. It had a large sofa and love seat and in the center was a rustic wooden coffee table. To the far left was a desk with a small woman behind it. Her eyes widened as she and mystery man walked through the elevator doors. " Aline, I think I've got this one." he said in a cool tone. "What was your name again? I don't remember you telling me."
"That would be because I didn't. It is Morgenstern. First name, Clarrisa."
"Welcome to Wayland Enterprise. I am Mr. Herondale."
There was no point of return. Her stomach was going crazy with butterflies. She had only been there for approximately five minutes and had already screwed up her entire interview by mistaking the boss for a regular looking lawyer. Who does that? Regrets continued to run through her mind as she followed Mr. Herondale through the glass doors into what was most likely his office.
The room was spacious and neat. Clary glanced taking in the room. It was unusual that a male could be so organized. Jonathan had been a messy person and so had his friend, Sebastian. Even she wasn't this bad. Nothing seemed to be out of place. In the far left of the room was a giant glass desk and comfy looking rolly-chair. Two regular chairs that were seen in a day-to-day office space were seated directly in front of it. On the right side of the room, there was a small sitting area just like the one in the waiting room where the so-called Aline stayed. If he had Aline, then why did he need another assistant? Even though she had seemed fine when they walked in, he did say that none of his assistants lived up to their resumes.
When Clary's eyes reached back to the center, she took notice to a painting hanging up. She'd only seen it once, but that was when she was a little girl. Her mother had introduced her to many artists like this one. It was a piece of work with so much emotion. The one part that had grabbed her attention was the background. It was made completely out of old love letters. It didn't fit the modern set up in front of her nor the male that is seated at his desk.
"Ms. Morgenstern?"
Clary jumped. She looked in his direction, taking note that she had already messed up once today. She didn't need to add to that list. "I apologize. The painting on the wall is beautiful," she responded still distracted by the canvas.
"Mhmm," he hummed unamused. Yup. I am not getting this job. Nothing could possibly save her at this point. She couldn't even try to seduce the man due to the lack of chest and her petite body. She resembled a twelve-year-old girl that couldn't fit in anywhere because of her hair. He opened a folder that had been laying on the desk when they walked in and remained quiet as he flipped through the papers.
Her resume was nothing out of the ordinary. She had a bachelor's degree and worked two jobs in college to pay for loans. She wasn't the clingy type, so the only male in her life was her best friend, Simon. Her hobbies consisted of drawing and watching Star Wars while eating popcorn. She was just a normal woman on the outside.
Clary rubbed her sweaty palms together nervously. "I hate to admit it, but I am not the perfect person for the position; however, I can assure you that I am good at pleasing people," she said breaking the silence, but immediately regretting her words.
"Oh, you are?"
"I didn't mean it like that!" she quickly added. "What I meant was that I'm not one to let someone down when they rely on me." And just like that, it was awkwardly silent again. Minutes passed by before he finally looked up.
"I think you are very fitting for the job. A lot of assistants I hire are familiar with me already and it'll be different to have someone with a creative mind. If you don't mind me asking, why are you trying to shadow a law firm instead of an art gallery since that's why your degree is in?"
There it was. How did she end up in this predicament? Easy answer: There are no opening spots in museums or galleries within sixty miles of her apartment. Not even one would interview her.
"Unfortunately, there weren't any openings in the area. That doesn't change the fact that I want to work here though."
"I think you are fairly qualified to work here. I have high expectations and will hold you to such. I'm not a fan of seeing any affection in my office so please keep that to yourself and your outside hobbies; however, I have one specific request of you Ms. Morgenstern." He paused glancing up at her from the papers. "I follow our company's code of conduct, as should everyone else, but we have a few people who break them. Be professional, Clarissa. If you do not agree to these terms, then go on ahead and let Aline know on your way out to call the next applicant."
"Are you offering me a job Mr. Herondale?"
"Only if you want it," he said in a calm tone. Clary wondered what he was like outside of work. He seemed like a stiff, but his body and good looks said otherwise. Someone as young as him has to have some excitement and less structure somewhere. Maybe he just keeps that side to himself, Clary decided.
"I think you have yourself a new assistant," she responded with a wide smile. They both stood up to shake hands. He smirked in return. When she turned to walk away she realized she forgot to mention something. "Oh, and Mr. Herondale?"
"Yes, Clarissa?"
"No one likes a brag." She didn't have to stick around to see the smile on his face. He knew that she was referring to the cocky comment he had made on their way up to his office, but he was not wrong. She left with one thing in her mind that day.
Mr. Herondale had to be the most handsome, mysterious man she'd ever met and she was completely unsure of what was going to happen next.
Yellow suited Clary. She spun around in the mirror to make sure the outfit was not too revealing on the first day. The dress clung tightly to her body with the neckline swooping down into a V and the hem stopping slightly above her knees. Her pale blue heals finished the outfit. Sexy yet sophisticated. Feeling pleased with her look, she turned and grabbed her purse before heading out the door.
Clary didn't live far from work. Only a few blocks away and New York wasn't the kind of place to have a car. Nobody with an income like hers can afford such a luxury, but she saw the buy as unnecessary and expensive anyway. The breeze was light and warm today. August was her favorite time of the year. Leaves changed on trees to bold auburn colors and the heat became more comfortable rather than scorching. Clary finally arrived at the doors of hell. She had no idea what to expect behind them other than a rude receptionist and a few other stragglers from the morning foot traffic.
She made a bee line for the elevator when she saw it begin closing. Clary used her purse for a few things, but she hated using it for catching elevator doors. The sound was loud, as if she had broken something in the dang thing, but before she complained about it, she jumped into the crowded box. The 10th floor was fortunately already pressed when she glanced to her right.
Butterflies returned as she arrived on the top floor. It was only 7 am, so it wasn't a surprise when Clary was only greeted by the familiar face, Aline. "Hi, you must be Aline. I apologize not formally introducing myself last week," She greeted.
Aline is beautiful. She has striking features that resembled one of a super model. Her short black hair covered part of her face, leaving parts of her blue eyes hidden. She glanced down at Clary's hand as if it were rude to have it there in the first place.
"Do you ever get manicures?" She said judge fully.
Clary smiled. The answer to that was no. Her fingers were covered in paint most of the time, so fake nails would only make her job harder. She took note that maybe she should have cleaned them off more. "Uh- I mean, rarely. Why? Is that going to be an issue?"
"No. I should be the only one speaking to Mr. Herondale directly between the two of us. You are here for scheduling appointments, answering phones, and you know what? Just consider yourself a glorified receptionist. Your desk is on the right. Purses and coats go in the closet across from you. Do you have any questions?" She turned away and walked back to her desk when I responded with silence. "Oh, I almost forget," She smirked. "You are in charge of getting Mr. Herondale his coffee in the mornings. Ensure that it is already on his desk."
"What are you in charge of exactly," She stupidly blurted out.
Her head shot up and she started to laugh. "Well I oversee you. Maybe if you stick around long enough, you'll get to see what I do."
The day was long, and Clary didn't see Mr. Herondale go into the office today. He didn't seem like the type of boss to skip out on work. When the clock struck seven, Aline quickly started to pack up. "You going home," Clary asked nervously.
Aline never responded. She proceeded to grab her items and walk out of the office. Clary looked around the office. The city was lit up though the windows. She walked over and looked down over the dark night. It was calming. She could see thousands of lives rushing from point A to B, but hers was completely stopped. She pulled her phone from her pocket and dialed Simon's number. After three drawn out ring, his voice erupts through the phone.
"Claryyy! I am at a club downtown with the band. Celebrating our new gig. Come join me," his drunken voice begged. You sigh, giving into his request.
"I will. I promise. I'm about to leave work in a minute. Wait for me, Si?"
"We'll be here all night. Hurry-." The call ended with the loud click. They were clearly at Pandemonium. The club was the best place for partying and the only place Simon really ever went outside of his normal everyday shenanigans. Clary spun around when she heard the elevator doors open to reveal a dark shadow.
"Hi, how can I help you?" Clary said while rushing back to her desk.
"What a surprise. The new assistant. Man, Jace wasn't kidding when he- well, let's not dive into details. What's your name?"
The silhouette stepped forward into the light. His skin was pale and completion dark. What is with men being so good looking here. He held a wide figure, but his height even it out. He is so dark looking. My hand itched to sketch him.
"And what's it to you? I can't just give out personal information like that to a complete stranger like yourself," she responded confidently. The man made his way towards the counter and leaned over just enough for her to get a scent of his minty breath.
"I could just ask my brother for your name. He loves to share," He smiled. "Where is that stubborn headed ass at?"
"Well-uh- I couldn't tell you. He hasn't been here all day. Aline and I have been answering calls and making appointments, but-."
"First thing you should know about my brother is that he is never late to work. Have you even gone back to check on him? He is probably dying back there with no female affection."
Clary immediately felt her face flush and rage come to the front. "Excuse me, but I don't know you. IF Mr. Herondale needed something he could've very well come out or called to ask. Now if you'll excuse me, I'll be heading out." She knew she was being to loud, so she quickly grabbed her things and headed to towards the elevator. As she got into the elevator, she heard the door to His office open. He's been here all day. What time did he get in? Before the doors closed, she heard Mr. Herondale respond to the dark headed smooth talking man. "Alec, stop harassing the girl."
Twenty Minutes later, Clary found herself deep in the heart of New York City. It was dark, but the lights outside of the club gave off enough light to see the people around her. The bouncers fit the cliché position with bald head and black suits. She slowly eased her way to the front of the line giving a sexy smirk to one of the men. He cleared his throat and lifted the velvet rope to let her in. "Thanks," she murmured.
Clary snaked through the crowds of dancing people, while making her way to the bar. I need a drink. The lights flickered making it difficult to see. So many people love this place for its diversity. The variety ranged from hot shot lawyers to cowboys. As odd as it was, this is the place where people come to fit in. Finally, she found a seat by the bar.
The bartender glanced over and smiled, "It's nice to see you again. What can I get for you?"
"Three shots of tequila," She said returning the smile. I don't come here that often, do I? He quickly grabbed the glasses, filled them with clear liquid, and placed them in front of her. It's only a Monday. A long Monday with a annoyingly hot dark headed guy and an absent blonde. At least this night can't get any worse. Clary lifted each glass to her lips and let the toxic fluid consume her body. Her face cringed on the last one finally feeling a good enough buzz.
"You look like you could use a friend."
Clary turned her chair meeting a dark pair of eyes. The girl has long dark hair and pale skin. She looked anything other than nice, but her strong voice reached out. "I supposed you could say I had a long day. Do you want to dance?"
The girl grabbed Clary's hand and guided her to the center of the dance floor. Their bodies immediately became covered in sweat. With their hands exploring, Clary talks into her dance partner's ear. "What's your name?"
"Izzy. Yours?"
"Clary." They fell back into a silence, moving against each other to the music. Clary is anything but gay, yet the feeling of Izzy's body excited her. She hadn't anyone touch her in months and her core ached for it. She felt Izzy body pull away. When she turned around, she noticed her grinding on someone tall and dark. Before she made her way back to the bar, Clary's arm was being pulled in another direction.