“Is everyone ready?” Beatrice asked, pulling our attention to the doorway behind reception where she stood waiting.
Hannah and I exchanged a quick glance and then I nodded.
“Yup.” Bring on the janitorial duties.
For the next three hours, the four of us were required to sit in the conference room, filling out tax and insurance forms and listening to the run down on company policies. It was so boring that for one thirty minute stretch I had a vivid day dream about Michael Fassbender, in which he taught me how to drive stick shift and then we bumped uglies in the back of his car.
Finally, after my butt was mostly asleep, Beatrice gave us a tour of the office. The engineering and accounting departments were filled with the standard suspects: picture lots of plaid, wrinkled khakis, and buttons threatening to pop at the seams. The interior design department was a whole different species altogether. The seven women that worked in interiors were each prettier and more polished than the last. The scent of their perfume and hair spray masked the usual office smells as soon as we stepped into their department.
Beatrice lined us up at the front of their small conference area and I felt seven pairs of eyes rake over my outfit and mentally shred it to pieces. Had this blouse seemed chic earlier? It now felt like I was wrapped in trash I’d pulled out of the back of a Walmart dumpster. Christoph and Nathan fidgeted awkwardly, unsure of what to do in the face of all that beauty. Down, boys.
Just when my self-esteem was at an all time low, one of the interior designers, who had straight front bangs and dainty features, stepped up and smiled.
“Ah, a new batch of architects,” she said with a honey-dipped tone as she brushed her strawberry blonde hair over her shoulder. “My name is Serenity.” (No, seriously, that was her name. Like she was some exotic mermaid washed up on land to grace us with her presence.) “I’ll be your point-person for most projects. You won’t really need to come into our department much; we work mainly with senior associates.”
Serenity paused so she could glance over each of us. Her mouth twisted up into a curious smile when she landed on me.
“Will you be working with us? I wasn’t aware we were getting any new interior designers.”
My eyes widened and I glanced toward Beatrice for backup. She shook her head.
“Cammie is a new associate designer in the architecture department,” Beatrice clarified, for both Serenity and me.
Serenity’s smile fell. “Oh, well then. Do you need anything else?” she asked.
For one short moment, they’d wanted to accept me into their weird gynocracy. When Beatrice shook her head again, the glamazon designers smiled smugly and then at once, they turned and went back to work. Clearly they were done discussing their jobs with us.
“They thought you were one of them,” Hannah whispered with a hint of amusement as we turned to leave.
I bristled at the thought. I’d rather work with ten burly construction workers then spend my days in a room with seven beautiful women. I’d have a nervous breakdown from the scrutiny and the estrogen after five minutes. Could you even imagine?
After the interior design department, Beatrice led us through a few other sections of the office, and then we were on our way back to the main room. We passed by Grayson’s office and I glanced inside, hoping to get a quick peek of him at work. I shouldn’t have looked. Serenity was sitting on the edge of his desk with a mischievous smile coating her red lips. Of course… how very cliché of him to like the exotic mermaid chick. I rolled my eyes and looked away before Grayson had a chance to glance up and find me spying on him.
When we made it back to the conference room, I took a seat next to Hannah and replaced the image of Grayson and Serenity with the image of a dozen strawberry sprinkled donuts. There, much better.
“So have you figured out where you’re going to live yet?” Hannah asked.
I glanced over. “I hadn’t really thought about it,” I admitted. It was the truth: I’d slept at Brooklyn’s condo the night before, but I only had four days left before I had to move out of my dorm.
“Yeah, same here,” she nodded.
Then, it clicked. She was trying to introduce the subject of us being roommates without looking too desperate.
“I know it’s kind of weird and you hardly know me,” I began, “but we’ll both be going to the same place every morning…”
She gave me a weird look. “I’m sorry—are you hitting on me? I’m not a lesbian.”
What? What?
“Uhh, neither am I. Why would you think that? I thought you were trying to ask me to be your roommate a second ago.”