It was an offer she could not refuse, even if she wanted. A trip to New York for a job. it was her first time traveling to the big city. She didn't mind a bit of adventure. It was something that she enjoyed. Elena Gilbert, a graduate of Whitmore College had focused her studies on journalism. She had eventually found herself working for the Mystic Falls Daily after having interned there for one summer. A 24-year-old, whose adoptive parents died the summer before her Junior year of High School. She lived with her only guardian/aunt, Jenna Sommers, and younger brother, Jeremy. At the age of 18, she moved out of the house after saving enough money to share an apartment with her childhood best friend, Caroline Forbes. "Hm, aren't you lucky. Sadly, you don't know what this person looks like. you're sure you weren't given a description that you can remember?" Caroline asked.
Elena rolled her eyes in the midst of all the packing. She recalled the very day that she had been given the job. It was a Wednesday afternoon in the middle of the worst heat waves Mystic Falls had ever experienced. Still in the sweltering boardroom, she sat quiet among seven other writers and editor-in-chief. Everyone was either fanning themselves with their legal pads or downing their chilled bottled waters. "Elena, your assignment will be in New York. You will be interviewing Mr. Damon Salvatore. It will be a feature piece in our magazine, so I expect you to dig and dig well." The editor-in-chief was a woman, who often put plenty of trust in her writers and was well aware Elena was perfect for the offer given.
"I did some research." Elena handed her friend a folder full of biographies about this so-called self-made billionaire. Caroline took the folder and opened it to see some articles, as well as a few photos. "He lives a private life, which surprises me because of how notoriously famous he is." Elena's flight for New York was in two days, which gave her time to prepare herself with questions to ask him. Caroline handed her friend the folder. Elena put it into her bag and chuckled at the comment her friend made about the blurred photos. "Maybe they were purposefully manipulated to be that way." she guessed. Caroline rolled her eyes and suggested that they head out to pick out new clothes for Elena to wear in New York. Though not that she needed any more clothes, but maybe a fresh and professional wardrobe would give her some glimmer of hope that she'd be taken seriously. The morning of her flight had arrived. Caroline had driven her to the airport out in Richmond. "Hey, don't forget to call when you land." she reminded Elena, who promised she wouldn't forget. "I'll see you in two weeks." Yes, two weeks was plenty of time (according to her editor) to get an in-depth story about the new single and wealthy, Mr. Salvatore.
Upon her landing in New York, Elena weaved her way through crowds of people to the baggage claim to pick up her suitcase. She took out her phone and called Caroline. Voicemail, of course. She left her friend a quick message about her flight and hung up, still impatiently waiting for her bag to show. Ten minutes had seemed to go by, and finally she was able to pick up her suitcase. Just now she realized that it was heavier than she remembered. On her own, she managed to bring her suitcase with her outside to call for a taxi to take her to the hotel. Fortunately enough, it was paid for. She set her suitcase down in her room near the foot of her bed. She set her purse on one of the chairs by the window and looked out at the breathtaking view. A part of her missed the small town of Mystic Falls. There seemed to be something about New York that she could get used to. Caroline had returned her message in the form of a text: have fun. Elena smiled and took a shower before getting ready for bed.
The following day, Elena had gotten dressed and took a taxi to the address of Damon Salvatore's company. She paid for the fare and stood outside the building's entrance for a brief moment before entering. She approached the reception desk with confidence. "You must be the writer from the Mystic Falls Daily." said the receptionist. She was a brown-haired woman with green eyes. "Mr. Salvatore is expecting you - seventeenth floor." Elena was handed a visitor's pass before proceeding to the set of four elevators. She pressed the button and entered as soon as one of the elevator doors had opened. In her mind, she went over how she would go about introducing herself to the CEO of the company. She could feel her heart pound against her chest just as the elevator reached the 17th floor. Before her, the doors opened and she stepped out. She was met with a hallway and a set of double doors. To her left, there was another reception desk - a woman with black hair and brown eyes had sat. "Go right in. I'd knock first." She smiled.
Elena proceeded her walk down the hallway. The clicking sound of her heels echoed throughout the hallway. With one hand, she reached up and knocked on the door. Inside, she heard a faint voice that instructed for her to enter. She wasn't sure what to expect when she entered the room. Though, she imagined that the office would be a grand sight. She entered and closed the door behind her. What she noticed first was a broad shouldered man standing in front of a large window with a hand in his left pocket. She saw that he had black hair and then he turned to face her. His blue eyes bright and gazing at her. Upon seeing his face, he had a chiseled jawline and his mouth slowly pulled into a smile. She saw that he had a bit of stubble but that didn't bother her. From the way he held himself, she felt a bit intimidated. "If you're here to interview me, you'd be wasting your time." He said. Hm, I wasn't expecting the harshness.
"I'm not here five minutes and you're sending me away? I'm here because of the articles that have been written about you were all written by men. I could show them to you. I'm going to assume you've either read them or never bothered because the topic is the same. Am I right? They talk about your successful business career, a boy who started with a dream that came true because he worked for it. Well, I don't want to write the same story as everyone else because I'm not everyone else." As soon as Elena had finished speaking, it was the man's reaction that almost made her laugh but she smirked instead. "By the way, while I'm still here, call me 'Miss Gilbert.'"
"All right, Miss Gilbert. Off the record, they warned me you were fierce but wasn't aware a beautiful woman could bite." The man smirked. "You can put 'Damon' or 'Mr. Salvatore,' whichever you prefer." Damon could see the fire in her eyes but questioned what it was about her that was familiar. Despite the articles he's read, Damon somehow knew her. Elena had taken out her recorder and a legal pad to proceed in asking him questions - basic ones. First starting with his childhood until he discussed how this company started out as a way to reach out to others. Elena cleared her throat. "So I've read that you're seen as... rigid; someone who doesn't know how to have fun and let loose or has to pretend to force a smile. Would you care to prove those people wrong?"
"For the media, I have to keep up appearances. I have had my share of fun when the cameras weren't watching. Now off the record, I have a question to ask you, if I may kindly ask." Elena stopped the recorder and allowed him to continue speaking. "How did an intelligent woman such as yourself get stuck writing articles when she could be doing so much more?" It was a question she had never been asked before and got her thinking.
"I don't understand what you mean."
"From what I have been told about you, you've always been living in that small town in Virginia for... how many years? Have you ever seen anything beyond the border of that small town? It must've been your first time here in New York. Yet, you hold yourself is nothing like I've seen in some woman, which leads me to assume that you are overly protective of something because you were hurt by someone. Some of your articles are about successful men, but you don't find them as intimidating as me. You find them... repulsive. Regardless, you interview them because you are a fantastic writer, I must admit. Now, I've worked with men and with women, many of them. You are the first to sit here and not faint in the sight of my presence. You make me question who you are. You're not like everyone else, which you are right about that. Now what I'm interested in is getting to know you over lunch."