It's alright. I am fighting to keep my eyes open, I am so tired. Must finish a bio design prac...and get some sleep.
Lots of Love- Me.
Chapter three: Uncertain beginnings
I woke up to the sound of buzzing in my ears. I glanced at my alarm clock. 8:00 a.m it read. I shook my head groggily, trying to recall my commitments for today.
Oh! Crap. 7:00, first day at work...Edward was going to be...I don't know, he doesn't look like the type to get angry but...you can never tell.
I got out of bed and walked in a zig-zaggered fashion to my bathroom. I washed, I brushed my teeth (I think I did...I was in such a rush...), I brushed my hair, and I applied my make-up and walked to my closet. What do I wear to that hole? I decided on a ¾ pencil skirt and a midnight blue satin short-sleeved shirt which I tucked into the high-waisted skirt. I looked too classy for the dump, but shrugged, an image of Edward entered my mind. I wore a pair of Black wedges and my grandmother's pearl earrings. This was acceptable attire in my old work place, but it seemed like I could get away with trackies at Jardins Magique.
I picked up my portable CD player and a few CDs, I loaded them into my car (I didn't really feel like going via taxi) along with framed photographs of famous gardens and my previous projects. I drove to my new office thinking of a good excuse for my lateness.
I staggered under the weight of the frames, CDs and the CD player as I walked up the stairs. I closed my eyes as I backed myself into my office.
"You're late Ms. Swan," Edward's voice told me. Really? I had no idea.
"Sorry, I felt sick last night and I had a late night..." my voice trailed as I turned around to face him. So obviously my excuse was not good enough. He sat in my chair and looked at me; he was clearly disappointed and angry, somewhere in my mind I heard a voice register how irresistible he looked when he burrowed his frow and gazed at me intently me...
"It won't happen again..." I stuttered as I assembled the CD player on my desk and placed my frames against the walls.
"You're right, it won't," Edward's clear, cold voice told me. I stared at him in surprise.
Excuse me? But I have agreed to work in your crappy company, I have lowered my standards and you are going to give me the whole "punctuality is a key factor in an efficient work" spiral?
He was so impolite, addressing me as if I was something he accidently stepped on. I folded my arms across my chest and stared at him, he was nothing but a pretty boy who charmed his way around people. Nothing, you hear me?
"As I said yesterday, you'll be working on the 'Trushmet' project. Here is their personal information, you can call them and organize an appointment with them — he carelessly flung a manilla folder on my desk— be certain Ms. Swan, that your tardiness will not be tolerated here. Punctuality is highly valued at this organisation and I hope that you will strive to correct your ways. If you have any questions, you know where my office is..." he said in a voice with emotion I could not recognise, as he got up from my chair he cleared his throat. He walked outside my office without so much as a smile.
Great so the perfect angel is a devil in disguise. I heaved a sigh and began shuffling through the file he had just handed me. Great, middle-aged couple, standard income and they want a garden to suit their entertaining lifestyle. Can they be less creative? I sat on my chair and pulled my mobile out, I dialled the digits in with unnecessary fierceness and waited for them to answer.
"Rachel Trushmet, how can I help you?" a pleasant voice asked.
"Good morning, I'm Isabella Swan from—" I began, but the pleasant voice was irritated.
"Look, I'm sorry, I'm not interested; I'm actually waiting for a call. Sorry." A beep echoed from the receiver. Brilliant, my first client thinks I'm a telemarketer.
I re-dialled the number.
"Rachel Trushmet...can I help you?" the irritated (once pleasant) voice asked.
"I work for Jardins Magique, my name is Isabella Swan and I am calling in response to your request for a professional landscaper." I said, my voice professional and slightly edgy,
"Isabella?— Oh! Dear, I am so sorry...I was expecting your call..." Rachel's voice became apologetic and pleasant once more.
"Oh, it's fine...an innocent mistake. I was wondering when you're free to discuss your ideas for your garden, your budget, your main usages, your purposes et cetera, all the significant details, you know?" I asked, I pulled out a blank piece of paper from my bag.
"Oh, of course... how's today? Maybe in two hours?" she asked, hopeful.
"Today is perfect," I told her the address and the time of our appointment. My first client. I was determined to make my first task at this place extravagant.
I rose from my chair to discuss with Edward my working hours, payment, expectations and other details. I knocked on the door of his office.
"Come in," his melodious voice rang; I could feel a part of me melt.
I opened the door and saw that he was reading the paper, facing the window, his legs propped on a box. He looked completely at his leisure. Avoid the eyes, Avoid the charm, I repeated to myself.
He looked up at me and started, he hastily stowed away his paper and put his feet down, and he smiled at me warmly (another part of me melted to the ground).
He looked at me expectantly. He wore a simple white shirt and a pair of grey coloured pants, his hair shone in the sunlight streaming into his room. Is there anything that would make this guy look not-so perfect?
He probably would look equally masculine and refined in a dress...
Don't be drawn in Bella, this guy has "womanizer" written across his forehead. He. Is.Your.Boss. Pull yourself together, he probably has some gorgeous and equally stunning girlfriend or wife waiting for him at home. HE IS YOUR BOSS, I screamed in my head.
"I was wondering if you can tell me more about my working hours, payment, expectations and if you can show me some of the previous projects of this company?" I asked coldly. I have not forgotten his manner in addressing me this morning, he may look like whatever he wants, I may be attracted to him out of my wits but there is no way this little smug, arrogant toe-rag is going to get the best of me. Not Bella Swan.
"Oh? Did you make an appointment with the Trushmets?" He asked casually as he cleared his desk and opened a folder, flicking through papers, not looking at me. I noticed his knuckles were uptight and white.
I nodded curtly.
"Excellent. Well, you will be working five days a week, like we discussed in our previous interview (because I really could focus on what you were saying when you wore that jumper) we are actually hoping that you can put in all the energy you can, naturally, but even more so, because we plan to increase our sales by 150 this year, we have employed more people (really? Where are they hiding?) and your pay structure has been e-mailed to you," he finished quickly, not looking up from the folder, I noticed that he didn't seem to be looking for or reading anything.
"Eh... Edward?" I asked timidly, he seemed stressed.
"Yes?" He did not look up.
I was silent, waiting for him to look up. Was he crying?
He looked up and I let out a gasp. His eyes were dark as coal.
"Green, box-cut...eyes...they're black now...," I stammered, seriously unnerved. I got up from my chair and fell back limply. I couldn't compose myself.
He blinked rapidly. He almost looked angry.
"You must be tired—" he began, "I am not tired. What did you do to your eyes?" I asked. I momentarily forgot that he was my boss.
"Sir," I added as an afterthought.
"Oh, I have this condition...," his voice stumbled, clearly searching for an adequate excuse.
I murmured an apology and excused myself from his office. I think I ran to my office.
I sank in my chair to think about what I just witnessed.
His eyes were green. Of course they were green, I would know, I only get a little out of breath every time I glimpsed at them.
His eyes had changed colour, not the usual green-blue, blue-green...but green-black. I mean, what's that about? I took deep breaths.
Maybe it was a medical condition that he suffered from, I was never that informed.
I heard a gentle knock on my door.
"Come it," I heard myself call out in a weak voice. I opened the Trushmet folder and pretended to be reading their personal details.
It was that gaunt little man I had seen yesterday.
"Hi, I'm Matthew Sheridan, I thought I should introduce myself," he smiled flirtatiously. I let out an inward sob.
Matthew was about up to my shoulder; he had small, sunken green eyes and neatly combed black hair. He wore a blue and yellow checked shirt and brown khaki pants. I guess he'd be cute if you close your eyes very tightly when addressing him.
"Hello, I'm Bella, Bella Swan." I smiled at him; he looked at me through his non-existent lashes, clearly trying to flirt with me. Can he be more obvious? Or less attractive...I suppose if he had a twin...
"Do you need a hand? I'm always up for helping newcomers. I know its daunting working on your first task, but practise makes perfect. I'm actually the advertising manager..." blah, blah, blah. I wanted to push him out of my office and just think. I glanced at my watch; I had two good hours before my appointment with the Mrs. Trushmet.
I heard Edward clearing his voice behind Matthew.
"Excuse me Matt, if I could have a private word with Ms. Swan?" Edward asked kindly, however he looked at Matthew in irritation. Matthew nodded and stalked off.
Edward came inside and closed the door gently behind him. Don't look at his eyes, you'll get possessed. I repeated in my head. I looked up at him and his eyes were a warm tan colour. TAN?!?
"It's a rare condition," he whispered. Right? Only affect weirdos?
"How come the other workers don't realise?" I asked, was Matthew as stupid as he looked?
"I never spend a lot of time with them, my assistant, Jasper deals with them, he is familiar with my condition," he said, his tan eyes poured into my brown, almond shaped eyes.
"Will I be dealing with Jasper?" I asked, as much as I tried to dislike Edward the thought of not working closely with him deeply disturbed me.
"No, you will be dealing with me," he smiled; I wondered is his words were ambiguous in their implication?
I looked at his shirt, something red, like blood was splattered on his collar.
"You're bleeding..." I pointed to shirt.
Edward looked like he was blushing except he still remained strangely pale. His eyes looked embarrassed.
"Oh, just some drink I had earlier...I must leave. Good luck with your interview," and with that he left abruptly.
I closed my eyes tightly (no, Matthew did not just re-enter the room) and thought about the today's turn of events. Things here will unquestionably me more different here. I could feel a dramatic change makes it ways into my life.