The Virginity Pact

1 - the city that never sleeps

Hey Upper East Siders. We hear that World War III just broke out. And it's wearing kneesocks. Choose your side or run and hide. We have a feeling this one's to the death.

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I'm not a fan of New York. Maybe I would be, if I was staying in a little town near Niagara Falls, I'd be fine. But no, it had to be New York City. It had to be Manhattan.

I walk through the busy streets, eager to make it on time. By the way everyone rushes past each other quickly, they seem to be in just as much of a hurry as me.

It'd be easier to maneuver my way through the crowds if my eyes weren't constantly darting between my phone's GPS directions and the street signs.

Then I see it, the building I'm looking for: The Grand Annabelle Hotel. Taking a deep breathe I smile at the door man who politely smiles as he opens the door for me.

An elegant lobby like one from a movie or magazine sets the scene before me; picture perfect. Small plants rest on sporadic circular tables, big beautiful area rugs match the big arm chairs and couches, chandeliers add a touch of elegance, and a waterfall a touch of serenity.

I've never stayed in such a beautiful hotel before, and I probably never will. The most I'd be doing is cleaning it--if I'm even that lucky.

I walk up to the granite counter top and smile softly at the woman behind it.

"Hello, may I help you?" She asks professionally.

"Um, yes I have an interview with Mr. Fraiser? It's for 11:30." I glance at the clock on the wall behind her that reads 11:32. My heart drops.

I'm late, I've screwed up, I failed.

"Ms. Caldwell?"

I nod nervously and she smiles.

"Okay, if you'll just step around the desk I can show you the way."

I let out a sigh of relief, and walk around the large front desk to where she is. She begins walking down a hallway past several closed doors and a break room, before stopping at an office.

"He'll be in in just a moment."

"Thanks," I smile, as she exits the room, her brown hair swaying behind her as smoothly as her hips in a pencil skirt similar to my own. The only difference is hers is gray, while mine is beige to match my sleek co-coordinating turtleneck.

I sit down in one of the two armchairs that face the big wooden desk. The office is quite large, and as elegant as the lobby. The walls are lined with filled book shelves, and dramatic curtains reveal a view that's not really worth bragging about, since it's only the first floor.

The sound of someone clearing their throat alerts me, and I jump out of my seat. Turning around I'm met with a man--or more of a boy--with chestnut brown hair and eyes, in a gray suit. I let my eyes roam over him quickly, taking in how attractive he is.

"Mr. Fraiser?" My acknowledgement comes out more like a question, and he smirks lightly. I expected him to be much older, by about 10 to 20 years. He looks like he can't be much older than me.

"Hello, Ms. Caldwell. You can have a seat."

I sit back down in the comfortable chair, eyeing him in curiosity as he makes his way around the desk and sits down.

He shuffles some papers around, scanning them quickly before setting them down and looking at me.

"How old are you?" He asks, leaning forward slightly, his eyebrows furrowing in curiosity as he folds his hands.