Business and Pleasure

Interviews and Nerves

Jasmine's POV

By the time my alarm goes off on Monday morning, I'm already standing next to my bedroom floor and ceiling windows, coffee mug in hand.

With a sigh, I reach onto my bed and shut it off, before turning on some music for my morning. I listen to the words of the lyrics and the meaning behind them as I grab the clothes I picked out two hours ago when I woke up.

It's ridiculous. I'm a twenty four year old woman that's worried about an interview for a job I don't even need.

Not for the money anyway.

Ignoring the self pity that seems to be there more often than not lately, I head into my bathroom, setting my clothes on the counter in their usual spot. I open my shower curtain and strip from my t-shirt silently mourning the days when I didn't have to lift a finger.

My brother thinks I let my partners spoil me until I can't manage anything by myself, but it's more than just asking someone to gather my clothes because they're too far for me. It's about watching their excitement and content flourish along the flush in their cheeks when I ask them to do my task for me.

Their eagerness to please.

I shake myself awake from my taunting daydream of sweet blue eyes, and toss my shirt into the hamper to be washed, my night terrors making laundry more of a daily habit.

Quickly, I take a shower, singing to myself quietly as I lather my hands and then body, rubbing in the sweet smelling foam as the steam floods my senses. I slowly inch the temperature of the water up until my skin is red, but the burning pain with the soothing tempo of water falling across my skin feels so relaxing, for a moment I can breathe the air that I'm left with now that I'm finally alone.

Once my skin is a nice pretty blush, I get out from under the water, shutting it off as a exit the shower, panting lightly with the steamless air outside of the shower. Without looking up, I grab my deodorant and lotion and get my body smelling good, my mind racing a mile a minute.

I leave my towel sprawled on the floor, stepping into my bedroom and sighing in mild relief at the cool air that blasts onto my body.

With my body facing the skyline, the view the only thing keeping me calm, I slowly get ready for my first job interview in years.

My whole life I have always been labeled the the bitchy sister and the rude best friend, and I don't mind in the slightest. To be a woman running a kink club, you have to know when you can smile and joke. When men see those teeth leak out with a flutter of the lips they don't think business partner or boss, they think they're about to get laid and put off the hook.

Over the years everyone at my club has gained more than their healthy dose of fear and respect for me, and while that may be the perfect blessing there, everyone else tells me it's not so... desirable in the Vanilla world.

Human are dangerous creatures.

Not because of their beliefs, but because we are like minded creatures and we will always gravitate towards people that think and talk like us. All the way to the point until we believe we're the only possible ones that could be right. That our way is the only way and the only options. The world could convince themselves of anything if you gave them people who thought like them.

Words. A rumor, a smile, a wink, a sentence, silence. All of it can change everything and absolutely nothing even if you try the exact same thing a different time.

We only know the words caution and danger because history has a way of repeating itself.

The world is all about community and being social creatures. But when you're like me, no one wants you in their community because you're a threat. You're too cold. I'm too stoic. I'm a bitch.

When a man is all business, strict, stubborn, and confident, he's seen as driven, hard-working, mysterious even. But when anyone else, especially a woman men deem desirable, has those same qualities we're bossy, a hard-ass, a bitch and no one wants you around because to them a beautiful woman should sit there, do as told, and is sweet and gentle along the way.

Fuck that.

I smile to myself as I put on my pantsuit , shaking my head at my thoughts. When I let my mind wander I always find myself thinking about how different the world should be. How different people should be.

In the end, it's why he left. He said he couldn't handle me trying to fix him all the time when it wasn't him who was broken. He told me I was so focused on making everyone accepting who I am, I refuse to do the same for others and instead try to mold them to me. I know I should have forgotten the words he left me on my kitchen counter, but after reading them over and over before my brother took it and burned it, the words are stuck in my head, popping in at random moments.

Sighing as I put in earrings and slide on a few bracelets, I force myself to block off that part of myself, not needing those words to shake my confidence.

Not bothering with any makeup besides some eyeshadow and mascara, I grab my lipgloss and stick it in my pocket before sliding on my heels, gathering everything I need as I walk from my room to the kitchen.

With twenty minutes to spare, I grab an apple and a water bottle on the way out and make my way to the car, sliding in and placing my coat and breakfast in the passenger seat before buckling up. On the way to the office building where my Interview is, I get three calls, but I ignore the attempts at good luck wishes, just wanting to get it over with.

Luckily, I find parking near the front of the building, and I grab my resume from the glove compartment before washing down my apple with half of my water bottle. I freshen up in the mirror before getting out of the car.

I look up at the skyscraper, looking around at the people walking about along the sidewalks, briefcases in hand.

When I walk inside there's a receptionist on the bottom floor and a huge lobby, a cafe and break area to my left making my eyebrows raise. Hopefully they treat their employees as great as it seems. The small blonde looks up as I enter and smiles at me warmly. "Good morning, Ma'am how may I help you?"

"I'm here for an Interview for the personal assistant position." I tell her and she nods before pointing the way to the elevator and directing me to the top floor.

From what I read, this company, Renner Corp. was started by a young CEO that raises money, creates funds, and does all he can to help save and raise children all over the states. He invests in companies and hosts events that give press and funds to any cause that involves saving and protecting our children. A place that I would be satisfied to be apart of.

When I reach the top floor, I follow the next receptionist introductions and a few signs towards a lobby area outside of a door, a few seats lined up against the wall.

There's about six other people here, all of them sitting straight, or fixing their chest to impress the boss. I roll my eyes in annoyance at what people are so willing to do before taking a seat as well, ready to wait for my turn.

After thirty minutes, my name gets called. I grab my resume and walk towards the smiling lady who's standing by the held open door. I slip inside into a small more private receptionist area with a couch desk and chair and stand aside as the woman closes the door behind us and walks towards one thats on the other side of the office.

She gives it two good knocks before there's a voice that beckons us to come in.

And as the woman opens the door and I go to follow her into the final room for my interview, weirdly, I can't help but think that the voice sounds faintly familiar....

~~~~~~~~~~~~
Not sure how I feel about this chapter mostly a filler one but that's okay.

Thoughts?

Comments?

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