Disclaimer:

I do not own any of these characters, they belong to SM. This is my own writing, I am just borrowing her characters!

So here is the first chapter, I dragged myself away from Twitter my dissertation and wrote this when I really should have been doing work.

I hope you like it.

I would like to thank Marvar for being my Beta, it would honestly be a mess without her.

Chapter 1: First Sight

Monday March 8th

Monday. The start of a fresh week.

The understanding that I have five days of work until I can lazily stay in bed until lunch time and eat brunch in bed causes me to dread this morning the most.

This day, however, holds more dread than usual. It is my first day at my new job. My first 'proper' job - a job for which I am actually getting paid. All my other jobs have consisted of those most hated errands people have to do - household chores and school work.

When I think back, I always have to try to remember where and when my childhood years disappeared.

I grew up too soon.

I want them back, the childhood years. The care free days; where homework and getting back before curfew were the biggest worries in life. Not worrying if there will be enough money to pay the bills or to buy enough food.

Back in the present, my hands are shaking with adrenaline and nervous energy. The trembling is almost uncontrollable. It is making the task of rolling up my stockings that much more difficult. There will be no hope when I try to attach them to the garters.

I am wearing my 'power clothing' today. I never realized how much more confident a woman can be when wearing lingerie that matches or a perfectly tailored suit until I started to buy new things to wear to work.

I need this inner feeling of power today, even if I did have to take out a small loan just to be able to fill my miniature closet with clothes. Well, clothes that are worthy enough to be deemed 'power clothing.'

After I have completed all of my morning preparations and I have gulped down a glass of orange juice and slice of toast, I start the first morning of commuting to work.

Luckily the commute is a 10 minute walk.

Unlucky however because I didn't have the foresight to bring a pair of flat shoes.

The high heels that are an all important part of my 'power clothing' are starting to make themselves known. I can feel the beginnings of a few blisters.

Regret washes through me by the time I reach the office block. I am going to be walking around looking like a prize idiot all day in the attempt to not worsen the newly tender skin on my feet. I will definitely wear the converse on the walk to work tomorrow, screw the killer heels.

Walking into the grand atrium of C.C & Sons office block I approach the security desk, as instructed in my introductory letter, to gain my temporary pass and therefore entrance to all floors.

A warm, yet dominating figure stands behind the desk ready to assist me. After a few introductory words of welcome and luck, Jake, the security guy, instructs me to sign the register and to return tomorrow to have my photograph taken for my permanent pass.

As I sign my name into the register for my temporary pass, the nerves rear their ugly head. I feel as if I am going to faint.

The dread has returned full force.

I suddenly realise this is a new beginning for me. My hands resume their earlier shaking.

How is such a strong surge of adrenaline possible?

I have worked hard to be here, I deserve to be here.

I am a strong and independent woman. Well, that is what I like to tell myself.

I have relied only on myself ever since I was a young girl with a hare-brained mother and a father obsessed with fishing constantly out on the lake.

I have relied only on myself ever since I had to cook my own dinners from the age of nine because my parents' cooking was abysmal.

I have relied only on myself ever since I had to buy the groceries to make sure aforementioned dinners were able to be supplied.

I have relied only on myself since the age of eighteen when my parents were both killed in a car accident by a drunk driver.

I should not be nervous; I have had to live through much worse and much more trying times. That being said, these thoughts just make my unease increase.

I stand rooted to the spot and glance around the atrium once more. It is spectacular with marble floors and a light open feel to it.

I marvel at the fact I have the opportunity to work here. I may only be at the bottom of the proverbial employment ladder but by working here, I know I have the best start in the business.

After gawking at the building and quickly orientating myself, I send a quick smile to Jake mentioning that I will see him tomorrow. I get a welcoming bright smile in return, his teeth stark white against his clear russet skin.

I make my way through the swipe gates using my temporary pass and walk over to the elevator. My feet scream at me with every step I take - stupid blisters.

From my information pack sent to me after my interview, I know that I am meeting someone to show me around and introduce me to my new work colleges in five minutes. I have to meet them on floor thirty-three.

Walking towards the elevators, I start to feel my confidence gradually increasing with my internal mantra of reassurance and self-belief.

I quickly skip-step to the closing elevator and thankfully do not make a fool of myself when passing in between the huge steel doors. My worst nightmare would be for me to fall flat on my face because I tripped in my heels or to be trapped by the closing steel doors.

That would definitely make an impression. I can see the headlines now, 'Junior Assistant Squashed by Steel Doors on First Ever Day of Work.'

Hmmm, I wonder who would write my eulogy?

I shake my head against my own morbid thoughts. My mind can be so overactive.

I quickly press 33 on the operation panel and the doors once again close.

I can tell that today will be a rollercoaster ride of emotions; I can just see myself being emotionally motion sick by the end of today. I get myself set for the peculiar sensation of the movement of the elevator. My stomach always does a funny lurch when it begins to ascend.

We begin to move and I take a quick glance around at the fellow people in this tiny steel box and carry out my own miniature analysis.

There are four others besides me; all men, all much taller than me. I can feel my confidence begin to falter again just because I am shorter than them.

All of the gentlemen are preoccupied.

One is pursuing his early morning newspaper, he has greying hair and looks like his work has stressed and aged him beyond his years. He glances over the top of his paper and sends me warm, yet quick smile before lowering his eyes, the smile immediately causes him to appear ten years younger.

Next to him a dark haired bulky man is typing rather quickly into his Blackberry organizer. I am surprised he can use a Blackberry effectively; his fingers and thumbs are huge. He has cheeky look about him, almost as if he is a cute, dimple-cheeked 6 year-old in a grown man's body.

In the middle of the lift leaning onto the back wall, a blonde man is looking at his feet; he looks young and very tired. His wavy hair has flopped over his forehead slightly; he looks dejected as if this is the beginning of a very long and tedious day. I share the feeling of gloom. It is a Monday after all.

I quickly glance towards the last remaining person in the lift. I wish I hadn't almost immediately.

Vivid, deep eyes meet mine. I freeze and stare. It is rude of me but unavoidable.

He has watched me look at everyone in the small space we all share. I can just tell he has been waiting for my eyes to reach him.

I almost recoil; I don't like what I see within his expression.

Cold, hard, unadulterated hate.

With a startling realization I acknowledge that my stomach is no longer lurching just because of the elevator's movement. It is lurching because this man, whose gaze is so full of hateful emotion, is beautiful.

I could feel my mind become bewitched just by his vision.

I cannot understand myself. . . how can somebody who looks at me with hatred and anger in their eyes invade my soul so quickly?

I hate that this strong emotion emerges within me after a few seconds of just looking at him.

My mind starts to run through possibilities of how I could possibly upset him so quickly. Maybe he is just mad that I held up the elevator?

'Get a grip,' my subconscious announces rather loudly.

The floor suddenly stops moving; we smoothly have come to a halt.

A bell announces the doors opening and that this is the 33rd floor – Human Resources.

I step out of the elevator and approach the main reception desk to start the day, I do not look back.

I am too scared to look back.

I approach the main reception desk and shake my head slightly; I do not need that man to invade my thoughts, not today.

"Hi. Isabella?" a kindly girl from behind the main reception desk stands and walks around so that she is in front of me. "Erm, well my name is Angela, I will be showing you around today so, erm, welcome, I suppose."

She seems adorably nervous; surely that is my job today. Maybe this is the first time she has had to show someone around.

Angela, who looks similar in age to me, begins my induction and as the day wears on she becomes more settled. She introduces me to all of the people we encounter, spending a bit longer with the people I am going to be interacting with regularly and shows me the 'regular hangout' for lunch. Angela informs me that my boss, Mr Cullen, works on the 36th floor of this building and that is where I will be stationed. I will have my own desk next to the Senior Assistant.

We travel up to level 36 by the stairs, Angela is apparently trying to exercise as much as possible. My body starts to protest after the first flight of steps, the blisters on my feet once again announcing their presence.

This is why I avoid stairs, that and the fact I am more likely to fall up or down than make it safely from A to B.

Once we reach the 36th floor, I'm struggling to breathe and recover from the burn in my calves. Angela appears as if she went for a gentle stroll, I get shown around the floor - the important areas are highlighted to me including my desk, my boss's office and where the coffee machine lives.

I am informed that the coffee machine will become my best friend here, in between getting drinks for Mr. Cullen and me, it is the thing which I will spend the most time with besides my company phone.

Angela passes on the sincere apologies of the team I will be working with; apparently they are all tied up in an important meeting today. I will have more introductions tomorrow and Angela reports that Alice, the Senior Assistant, is one of her good friends and will make sure I feel welcome tomorrow when meeting Mr. Cullen for the first time.

I can already foresee that tomorrow morning I will be another human form of nervous energy. I am going to be mentally exhausted before the week is through.

I am shown my desk outside of Mr. Cullen's office on the 36th floor. It is in a great location, opposite the lifts so I am able to greet and announce any new arrivals and near to the beautiful wall made of windows. Natural light spills across my desk as well as Alice's, making the room seem very spacious and the view is spectacular. Procrastination will be very easy in this office if I do not focus.

I already see that the desk next to mine is like a home away from home. It is obvious that Alice is a girly girl. There are all sorts of colourful things splattered around her desk. It appears to be an organized mess. I make a mental note to bring in a couple of photos to make my work space a bit more personal.

I settle myself down for the day in the knowledge that usually I will be running around like a headless chicken. That is a pleasure of being the Junior Assistant to the 'big' boss. The Senior Assistant is slightly more advantaged, not only with a bigger salary but any glamorous jobs get handed directly to them.

The junior assistant is lucky if they are even acknowledged in some cases.

I just hope my boss isn't an ass; I would hate to not be acknowledged. That would make the working day so much worse.

With the day drawing to a very slow close, I make a to-do list on my BlackBerry, very kindly given to me by C.C & Sons, also making sure all the important contacts are there. I am excited to start working and helping people go about their daily working lives. Maybe the nerves tomorrow will be less than I first anticipated.

Making sure everything is prepared and ready for tomorrow, I head over to the elevators.

It is only as I enter the elevator at the end of the day to begin my journey home that I realise 'Vivid Eyes' has not entered my mind all day. Well, at least not until I stare at the spot which he occupied so early this very morning. It seems like days ago even though it has only been a matter of hours.

I hope I am never on the receiving end of the look he gave me again; the hatred that I saw in his expression was sudden and unwarranted as far as I am aware.

I hope I never see him again.

No matter how beautiful he is.

Thank you for reading, I would love it if you left a review!

I hope you liked it.