Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
(UNEDITED)
--Kindly put your playlist
here--
"Oh, I wouldn't mind,
Hazel Grace. It would be
a privilege to have my
heart broken by you."
― John Green, The
Fault in Our Stars
Jade's POV
"Mr. Petrakis? Mr.
Petrakis..." Where is he?
He said, to go with him.
I tried to keep up his
pace, but he was
walking so fast. I
couldn't see clearly. I
lost my focus on where
he was going.
Finally, I saw a door,
and decided to open it.
Maybe, this is his office.
I turned the knob
slowly, and opened it
widely. I stood in the
doorframe, scanning
the room, trying to
figure out what was
inside the room. It was
all white with cubicles in
it.
I heard the swishing
sound of water, and
saw about four men
standing and facing the
wall, talking.
"I won't give my vote
to that Japan shipyard,
unless, Petrakis offers
to increase my share on
it."
"Yeah, right. That's
what I was thinking
too. Shh... I heard,
father and son are
really after it, because
there are gold bars
hidden underneath the
shipyard."
My breathing quickened
and my cheeks felt
warm. For heaven's
sake! I'm in the Men's
Comfort Room!
Before I could turn to
go, the men spun
around and saw me.
"Hey, lady! What are
you doing here? This is
the men's room!" One
man yelled at me.
"What the...!" Another
man exclaimed.
"I'm sorry, sorry sir...
sorry." I apologized to
them and immediately
left, half running, to
escape the humiliation.
Suddenly, something
hard hit me and my
arms were grasped
with strong hands.
"Where have you been?
I thought you were
following me."
My face was plastered
at Eros Petrakis chest,
and smelled his pure
male scent. Oh no! Not
again.
I instantly stepped
backward, avoiding the
contact of his body.
"I... I was. I can't see
clearly, without my
eyeglasses. I... I lost
you."
"You should have told
me that you can't see
clearly." He groaned and
picked up the manila
envelope that fell on
the floor. "Come."
We strode towards an
elevator. This time, he
walked beside me and
even waited for me to
enter the elevator first.
"So, why do you want
to see me?" He asked
the moment the
elevator door closed.
"I want to take your job
offer, Mr. Petrakis."
Please, please, please. I
wanted to add,
desperately.
He was suddenly silent.
Standing there, looking
at me, as if I was a
piece of specimen. I
could feel his gaze
traveled up and down
my body.
My cheeks suddenly felt
warm, I felt
embarrassed by his
scrutiny. I adjusted my
big leather bag, on my
shoulder, and clasped it
in front of me, covering
my body.
"Do you have your CV
with you?" Finally, he
replied.
"Yes, sir."
"Let's see, if you're
qualified." He said curtly.
Just in time, the
elevator door opened
and he stepped out
ahead of me.
Qualified? I thought I'm
qualified as his coffee
girl. He likes my coffee,
right?
My feet suddenly
trembled. I was scared
of being rejected again.
I really needed a job,
any job. I silently prayed
the 'Lord's Prayer'
earnestly, again and
again, until Mr. Petrakis
voice, jolted me.
"Is everything okay,
Miss Collins?"
"Yes... yes, Sir." I nodded
at him.
A woman appeared
when we arrived
outside his office. She
seemed young, with
light blond hair pulled up
in a conservative bun.
Her black executive suit
fitted on her nicely. She
looked so smart, very
professional and yet so
gorgeous.
"Good afternoon, Mr.
Petrakis." The woman
greeted him, in a very
sweet voice.
"You can go now, Miss
Leech." He answered
firmly.
"Bye, Mr. Petrakis." The
woman said, without
even glancing at me. I
wondered if she saw
me. I felt like I was
invisible. She was
probably his secretary.
We entered his office. It
was a huge room, with
black and white
furnishing. I tried to
figure out what was
inside the room, but I
couldn't see clearly.
"Sit down, Miss Collins."
He was already seated
behind his black
executive desk, leaning
his back on his chair,
waiting for me.
I immediately sat
down, across him, and
took the brown
envelope inside my big
leather bag. I was
about to get my CV
inside the envelope,
when he raised his
hand, a signal for me to
stop.
"Just tell me about
yourself, Miss Collins."
I took a deep breath,
feeling so uneasy. I
always get so flustered
when asked to talk
about myself. I felt like
I didn't have anything
clever to say. I
preferred being
interviewed rather than
talk about myself. I
heaved a frustrated
sigh. But I had no choice
I needed a job for my
family to survive. I had
to bear this, even
though it was so
awkward.