Wrong Assumptions

ALANA

Wrong.

It could be that hard.

Long after we all got off at the topmost floor, I wandered in the hallways, hoping to see any signs of life. There was nothing. No one. Complete, utter silence. I could always go back to the elevators.

If I knew where they were.

Great. It was the first day and I was already starting to show my tardiness.

I was so lost in my head that I bumped head-first into someone.

"Ow!" We both shouted at the same time.

I looked up and breathed a sigh of relief. It was Knight's assistant. He was also eyeing me with his cat-like eyes.

"Sorry for that," I breathed out. "Could you direct me to the elevators?"

His gaze wandered up and down the length of my body and I squirmed. It wasn't leery like that other guy; just curious.

"What are you doing on this floor? Nobody's allowed here." He spoke monotonously, almost like a robot.

"I . . ." had no answer. "It's my first day of work. Please show me the way to the kitchen."

"Which one? There's a kitchen on every floor."

My eyes widened. "I was in the same lift as you. Which floor did that guy get off at?"

He blinked. "I don't . . . remember."

"At least tell me where the elevator is," my mind was working in a frenzy. This was not good at all. Late on the first day of work. How awesome. "Please. I really am getting late."

He sighed, rubbing his temples. "At least tell me you've got the employment letter. I can't help you otherwise."

"Oh, yes, I do have it," I fished around in my bag. "Here."

His phone pinged as soon as his eyes started roaming over the paper. He muttered something under his breath and held up a finger, telling me to wait. He was seriously testing my patience.

"Yes, Sir," is the first thing he said. "The coffee?" He thumped his head with my papers and I raised a brow. "Right away, Sir. There's someone who needs my help and then I'll—"

I jumped back, hearing shouting down the line.

"Okay, Sir," the words were spoken sheepishly.

Finally, he turned his attention to me. I was surprised when he handed back the sheets.

"Ms. Alana, I don't know where you're employed," He gave me a reassuring smile when he saw my face fall. "But there is a cafeteria two levels down and that's where the first two months interns spend working in order to prove they are worthy of working professionally in the kitchen. "

Worthy.

Okay. Cool.

I couldn't help the haughty tone. "That wasn't mentioned in the email sent to me by the head of the department."

"That's what would have been told to you when you met with your senior today. Now, you can either believe me and we can go help you out or we can both stand here and get fired by our very, very angry boss." He raised a brow at the end.

Without another word, I followed him to the cafeteria. Apparently I was a barista.