Green Eyes

Emilio is older. Not old like wrinkly and grey, but he's older then me by far. He has chiseled features, neatly groomed hair and salt and pepper scruff. He wears a suit that forms to his body, which I can imagine that its very toned. His face holds no emotion and I wonder if he's ok.

But his words ring in my ears, unforgiving and mocking.

"I'm sorry Mr. Red, the tra-"

"No need to waste your time blubbering up some excuse." He walks closer to me and I hear his heels click on the polished floor.

"Um. Ok." Because I don't know what else to say. Mr. Red is a few feet away from me now. His eyes travel down my body in an industrial sort of way, taking in my flaws, criticizing my gangly legs and protruding hip bones.

"Your office is through those doors." Emilio doesn't offer to show me where those doors are. He just stares at me until I turn around. And then I see the doors. I'm not sure if I'm supposed to go into my offce or wait for further instructions.

A buzzer buzzes on Mr. Red's desk. His eyes flick over to the machine.

"Mr. Red?" A woman's voice breaks the silence and echoes through the room.

"Yes Matilda?" Mr. Red snaps. I try not flinch at his tone.

"Your son is here. Says it's important." His son? The look of distain on Emilios face is prominent against his features. I blink. My heart is racing and I can't calm it down.

"Send him up." Mr. Red says after a period of time. He looks back at me. The hatred look is gone.

"You have your first assignment on your desk. You'll finish it for me as soon as you can." Mr. Red turns his back to me and walks to his desk, sits down and doesn't look up. The door to the elevator dings open and I avert my attention to the intruder.

"I need money." This must be his son. He walks right past me, brushing my shoulder. I take a step back. I should go into my office, shut the doors and ignore the conversation.

"You know where to get it." Mr. Red growls. His son slams his palms down on the table and leans forward. His back jeans are skin tight, forming to his legs. Hi boots are black, just a shade darker thn his worn pants. He doesn't wear a jacket or a sweater. Just a simple black t-shirt with his sleeves rolled up.

Black ink litters his skin in an inticate design. His hair is slicked back into a mop of curls.

"Yeah but I need it now." His voice is a rich, raspy tone, a soothing quality to it. Mr. Red sighs. He glances over at me. My cheeks burn. His son turns his head, muscles contracting in his arms.

"Miss Walker, I dont think it's appropriate for you to be standing there. Especially after I told you to go into your office." I run my tongue over my lips. My stomach is a pit of butterflies.

"Oh, yeah. I'm leaving." I stutter, grabbing my messenger bag. I hear his son snort, a condescending snicker escaping his lips. I hurry into my office, shut the door and close my eyes.

Way to start my first day at work. The embarrassment in my cheeks wont go away and I feel like crying. But I shake my head. I open my eyes.

My office is no where near as large as his. It's about the size of a room, glass windows, marble floors, a cherry wood desk, a bookshelf and a bathroom. I sit down, looking out over New York.

It's beautiful. I stand up and hold my hand up against the glass. I smile. I could get used to this. My phone rings from my bag and I walk over to my desk. I unzip my purse and grab the cold metal. I don't feel like answering it. I want to get started on my work so Mr. Red wont find anymore reasons to be angry with me.