The Mystery of my life

12. Shirt

 “You, as my personal assistant will be in charge of putting together a presentation, that will hopefully get us a contract with Fluor Corp, the biggest construction company in England. Naturally, you’ll have to come to me when you have any questions about information to add into the presentation,” 

I gaped, as Mr. Agrawal explained the purpose of our conjoined rooms. How was it that he was trusting me with a presentation that would probably determine the fate of our company, when I couldn’t even handle a routine sales report in our own home country? But, then again this could be my big chance at showing Mr. Agrawal that I was indeed a competent employee with the skills to make our company shine on an international stage. 

“Understood?” 

I nodded, still to surprised by his revelation to trust myself with words.

“Good, then you will meet me in my room, in say,” He looked at his watch, “30 minutes.” 

With those words he left the room.

I let out a huge sigh of relief and instantly jumped into the giant king sized bed sitting in the middle of the room. The soft mattress embraced my tired muscles in a thick blanket of almost magical warmth and comfort. I rolled around the bed and was just starting to feel as if I didn’t want to ever get out of bed when a knock came from the door. 

I rolled off of the bed with a groan, who dared to interrupt my down time? The offender, as it turned out to be, was a porter, carrying my bright pink luggage. I mentally kicked myself, how had I expected to survive three days without any proper clothing? 

I thanked the porter for his services and lugged the suitcases the rest of the way into my room to start the process of unpacking. 

It was only when I unzipped each and every one of the suitcases and the bags contained within them that I came to a life changing realization: Rina was bae.

She had packed everything from new toiletries, my work materials and business outfits to hair straighteners, make-up and hair extensions. And all without a single thing spilling or wrinkling.  I felt like singing her praises until my throat was sore-before I realized that I was missing something very crucial to every overseas trip: nightwear or more importantly something to wear to bed! 

With all her focus on making me presentable the company officials Rina had forgotten all about my behind closed doors apparel. But that was partly Mr. Agrawal’s fault, he hadn't given me any heads up about our little foray across the ocean which meant that poor Rina was left to do all my packing.

Now I was going to either go to bed wearing my underclothes and risk being walked in on by Mr. Agrawal, or go to bed wearing all of my clothes and risk running out of outfits to wear to all the business events. None of the scenarios seemed like solutions and I was to tired and jet lagged to think of anything else, so I did what every dead tired, jet lagged personal assistant does: explored my hotel room.

And by room, I meant the mini-fridge, a.k.a, the place where they hide all the good stuff. As expected, the fridge was filled with delicacies such as, cupcakes, chocolate, 100% fruit juices, fancy water and ice piled high in one of those cute hotel pails. The combines prices of all the contents of the fridge would probably rack up a hefty tab, a tab that Mr. Agrawal would have to pay, so I did the sensible thing by choosing what looked like the most expensive fruit juice (100% Black Grape) and drinking the whole bottle. Served him right. 

After, gulping the refreshingly cold bottle down in three hotel cupfuls I kicked off my uncomfortable heels-the carpeting seemed clean enough to walk on barefoot-and gathered up my work materials before making my way over to the white door that connected both of our rooms.