A soft “ding” announced the elevator’s arrival, and Dylan, dressed to impress, stepped out with swagger.
They paused outside the president’s office. A stunning secretary glanced up, shot Flora a frosty glare, then fixed her eyes on Dylan. Her face lit up with a dazzling smile. “Mr. President.”
Her voice was sugar and spice, and her curves were hugged by a fiery getup that screamed trouble with a capital T.
“Kitty, find her a spot,” Dylan flicked his gaze at Flora. “Which team are you eyeing?”
“Design Department,” Flora replied without hesitation.
Dylan bobbed his head. The secretary, itching to butt in, piped up, “Mr. President, the design team are top dogs handpicked to join us. She…”
Her voice dripped with doubt and disdain.
“I’m here for real skills, and I trust my chops. Skipping the interview doesn’t mean I can’t cut it in design, right?” Flora asked a she locked eyes with the woman. Her eyelids glistened with a thick layer of gold shadow that sparkled as she blinked, miffed, and her eyeshadow looked like two bananas.
“Mr. President…” Her voice was syrupy enough to turn Flora’s stomach.
Flora let her gaze drift down from the woman’s eyeshadow. Her skin was pretty fair.
She turned toward the man next to her, only to find he’d already ducked into his office.
Kitty stomped her foot, peeved. Despite her sky-high heels, she still had to look up at Flora.
“Let’s roll,” she begrudgingly led the way, then suddenly spun around and halted. “Could you at least hide that love bite on your neck? It’s so in-your-face.”
Flora glanced at the reflective surface nearby and, sure enough, there it was. She whipped out a band-aid she had handy and slapped it on her neck.
“Wow, you’re a pro, huh?” Kitty leaned in, a snarky grin dancing in her eyes.
Flora patted the band-aid a couple more times, her reflection shooting daggers at the woman through the glass. “Or maybe someone’s just green with envy they never got a shot.”
The smile froze on Kitty’s face. She spun around and stalked off, her stilettos clicking on the gleaming floor. Flora trailed her, weaving through the neatly arranged office area, and spotted the Design Department sign in the distance.
It looked just like other offices: cookie-cutter cubicles, heads buried in work, and the clickety-clack of keyboards.
“Ahem…” Kitty cleared her throat with a dainty cough. Right on cue, everyone in the office popped up to greet her.
“Today, we’ve got a new face joining the crew. What’s your name again?” Kitty swiveled to face Flora.
“Flora Jones.”
“Manager Mayer, the prez personally arranged her here, if you catch what I mean…” Kitty’s voice trailed off, her eyes brimming with insinuation, highlighting Flora’s VIP entrance.
At that moment, a woman stepped out of her office, offering her pale right hand to Flora. “Lilian Mayer, nice to meet you.”
Her tone was crisp and all business.
“Nice to meet you.” Flora shook her hand.
“You can sit over there.” Lilian gestured to a spot near the floor-to-ceiling window. Then, without lingering, she spun around and headed back into her office.
It wasn’t until Kitty’s high heels clicked away that the others lifted their heads, gossiping like there was no tomorrow.
“Check out Kitty’s sway, and she rocks those stilettos daily without a single stumble…”
“Psst, I’m telling you, yesterday, I caught Mr. Bowles and Lilian in the elevator again…”
The voices dropped to a whisper, and several heads leaned in, eager for the scoop. “So, what happened then?”
“Well… I didn’t see anything after that. I couldn’t tail them into the exclusive lift.”
“Well… well!” They all retreated to their seats. “I’m telling you, there’s gotta be something cooking between them.”
Flora quietly claimed the corner seat by the window, piecing together from their chitchat that Dylan and Lilian must share a special connection.
As she tidied her workspace, she suddenly felt a sharp, stabbing pain in her lower abdomen, followed by warmth.
Her first thought was ‘Aunt Flo,’ but she quickly realized it had only been a week since her last period. Flora shifted uneasily in her chair, recognizing the familiar ache.
Her light-colored suit would easily reveal a stain if…
Flora rose and grabbed her purse, cautiously approaching her coworkers. “I’m sorry, but I need to step out for a bit.”
The women were deep in conversation, and one of them glanced up, irked. “If you need to leave, talk to Lilian. What’s the point of telling us?”
Flora eyed the office, and a round-faced girl blurted out, “Are you bonkers? Lilian’s in a meeting! You’d be walking into the lion’s den.”
Stuck between a rock and a hard place, Flora breathed a sigh of relief when the girl kindly suggested, “Since it’s your first day, if it’s urgent, just go. When Lilian comes out, I’ll fill her in.”
“Thank you.” Grateful, Flora nodded, flashed a smile at the girl, and made her exit.
But before she even left the building, the gossip mill churned again.
“Julie, what’s your deal? Why stir the pot?” One woman asked.
“What’s the biggie? She had an emergency!” Julie answered casually.
“Didn’t you hear Kitty’s hint? The PREZ arranged her here personally. She’s just eye candy, hogging a chair here. She doesn’t have to grind like us, nine to five…”
Leaning against the wall, Flora felt lightheaded as she walked. The pain seemed to intensify.
Through the transparent glass, she peered back at the office, where the women huddled together, as if putting others down could somehow elevate their own status.
Stepping out of La Comte, Flora flagged down a cab and headed straight to the hospital instead of home, not wanting Monica to see her in such a condition.
Lying in the hospital bed, Flora watched the IV drip slowly enter her body. The pain had subsided considerably, and the bleeding was letting up.
A nurse came over to check the IV drip’s speed and noticed Flora’s pale face. She slowed the drip down, asking, “Is there no one here with you?”
Flora shook her head.
“He’s being too rough since it was your first time. After the IV, go home and get some rest,” the young nurse advised, her expression sympathetic, which warmed Flora’s heart.
“Thank you.”
A few minutes later, her phone rang like a death knell. Flora picked it up. “Mom…”
“Everything’s fine here. The work is easy, and my colleagues treat me well. Don’t worry, Mom, I’ll be home after work…”
Lying to her mother wasn’t new. Over the phone, her mother’s voice was still caring and warm.
Flora turned away, the sharp smell of disinfectant stinging her eyes, and a sudden urge to cry welled up. “Mom, I have to go to work now. I’ll hang up.”
Quickly closing her phone, she curled up under the blanket, leaving only her IV hand exposed.
Leaving the hospital alone, Flora knew she couldn’t wear her stained clothes home. She picked up something at a store, and by the time she reached her apartment, it was almost evening.
Inside the complex, the streetlights cast a dim glow. Flora walked along the concrete path towards her building, and from a distance, she saw Dylan leaning against his car, his deep eyes fixed on her.
Feeling his gaze, Flora found it difficult to move. The discomfort from earlier still lingered, and all she wanted was to go home and sleep.
“First day at work and you’re already slacking off?” Dylan straightened up.
“I had an emergency.”
“Why didn’t you answer my calls?” He seemed to be losing patience, like he always did.
“I had it on vibrate.” At the hospital, she’d been afraid her mother would call again, worried she wouldn’t be able to handle it.
“Get in the car,” he commanded.
Flora finally looked up, her expression anxious. “Where are we going?”
Dylan had already opened the car door, his narrow eyes glancing at her. “Desire.”
“I don’t want to go.” Flora instinctively resisted, clutching her purse in front of her. Desire felt like a place full of nightmares to her.
Dylan’s right hand rested on the car door, his tall figure casting a shadow over Flora’s face. “Why are you so afraid? Or is it that you’re scared of running into familiar faces from your past and can’t face them?”
“I don’t have any acquaintances there,” said Flora.
“Really?” Dylan smirked, his tone suggestive.
“Let’s do it another day. I want to go home now.” Flora turned to leave after speaking.
“Hey,” Dylan called out softly from behind, his gaze fixed on her frail figure. His eyes grew darker and more intense. “Who did you give your first time to?”
The sound of her high heels stopped abruptly. Flora’s face tensed up. She thought to herself, sneering, “So, he does care about if it was my first time; he was just biding his time.”
Flora turned around, trying to face him calmly and answered evenly, “My first time was with you.”
“Hahaha—” Dylan’s response was a mocking and sharp laugh. “How many ‘first times’ does a woman like you have?”
