Chapter 1
by Tatarrific
Cosima pressed the elevator call button again, ignoring the side-long glance from the security guard. Her interview was to start exactly 9 minutes ago and, though she considered her penchant for running late to everything a charming personality quirk, she didn't think that the corporate types at Dyad would feel the same way. Especially not a 'Dr. D. Michelle Cormier', set to interview her first - from what Google told her about this guy, he was a straight-up overachiever: graduated with high honors from SciencePo, doctorate from Stanford, and is running his own center at Dyad, all by the ripe age of 33. Even Jesus would be punched the button again. Maybe she can just blame her tardiness on malfunctioning machinery at this building. For a 30-floor gleaming needle of a downtown architectural wonder, they sure could at least get the elevators to be a tad more efficient.
Fuck. 10 minutes.
The 'up' arrow lit up with a ding above the middle door and Cosima perked up, standing in front of it, waiting to dart in. The door remained closed, its metallic surface reflecting a distorted image of herself back at her - the tastefully muted colors of her shift dress, purchased just for the occasion, the marginally neater pile of dreads coiffed at the top of her head - and she fingered the simple chain around her neck, feeling nearly naked without her usual collection of jangly necklaces.
There was another ding, and she looked up, lips pursed, to see the arrow light go off, the door remaining imperturbably closed. "The f—" She jammed the call button again, this time the door sliding open with a cheerful ding, revealing a gleaming, mirrored interior.
"Finally!" She strode in, quickly locating the correct floor -Penthouse, figures- preparing herself for the sudden, inevitable stomach drop at the rapid acceleration of the car. The door started closing with another loud ding and she glanced down at her watch,If under 15, it doesn't count, right?,when an arm holding a briefcase suddenly swung through the narrow opening, forcing the doors to open again.
"For the love of-" she muttered under her breath, glancing at her watch again, then looked up at the intruder. The woman was tall, blonde and model gorgeous despite the severity of her all black corporate outfit, and Cosima gripped the metal handrail feeling her stomach drop for an entirely different reason.
"Bonjour," the woman husked out, slightly out of breath, "I'm sorry for keeping you."
"Ah, yeah, no problem, whatsoever." Cosima felt her hands do that thing, when the elbows jut out and her fingers wrap around each other nervously. "Totally cool. No rush."
The blonde shot her a curious glance and a half smile as she turned toward the panel. "Ah, well, we are going to the same place, it seems."
"Very, totally cool." Cosima shut her eyes momentarily, pressing her lips together. .It.
The door slid shut and after a moment's hesitation, the elevator slid upward, quickly gathering acceleration. Cosima spared a side glance at the woman, trying to figure out her story. A competitor for the same job? An accountant? A dominatrix heading to meet the CEO? A snort of amusement escaped her mouth before she could stop herself and she glanced at the woman mortified, hoping she didn't hear. Hazel eyes gazed back at her cooly, an elegant eyebrow raised.
"Something funny?"
"Auh, um, no, no, I just-" and then, with a flicker of lights, the elevator slid to a halt.