Adore [H.S.]

65

ISABELLA

One of the most satisfying feelings in the world is knowing that your undergarments match.  It's a powerful feeling. Being able to match your bra to your underwear was liberating almost. As I stand here in front of the Lonsdale Publishing Company, in my black pencil skirt. I clutch tightly on to my leather bound folder, where my business plan lays. 

I take in a deep breath. My nerves growing as I stand out in the blistering cold. A few more minutes pass, before I pull myself together, and walk up the steps. Walking towards the reception, I take another breath, settling my nerves. An older woman sits at the reception desk. Her dark red hair pinned back into a low bun and thin, black rimmed glasses covering her eyes. 

My heels click against the tile floor. The sound vibrating throughout the lobby. "Hello. May I help you?" The lady greets me. A warm smile on her lips. 

"Yes. I have a meeting with," I pull up the text from Ty with the details of today's meeting. "Beatrice Stephens?" 

"Name please?" She asks me, her eyes preoccupied with the computer in front of her. 

"Isabella Maxwell." 

She types a few things on her computer, before looking up at me. "Right, here you are. Second floor, first door the the right is her office."

"Thank you." I give her a small smile before excusing myself, and head upstairs. 

The journey up the elevator feels excruciating slow. Everything that's inside of me is going a mile a minute. My heart beats quick against my chest. This was actually happening. This was the first step towards my future. My career depended on this meeting. Who knew what the outcome could be?

"This is it," I say to myself before walking out of the elevator. 

A secretary desk is the first thing I see once entering the office. "Hello, I'm here to meet with Ms. Stephens." She continues to type, not looking up at me once. 

"Hello?" She holds her finger up and I quickly shut my mouth. She continues to type while my patience grows thinner. 

"Alright, she'll see you now." Not once does she look up at me. Her steady gaze held tight by her work in front. 

"Okay..." I turn on my heel and head towards the door. The tall, daunting door that separated me from potentially the beginning of my life. 

- 

"It was a pleasure meeting you, Isabella." Beatrice Stephens shakes my hand, smiling at me kindly. "You are a bright young woman and this plan is well thought out."

"Thank you, Ms. Stephens." The meeting had gone smoother than I had ever thought of. 

Beatrice Stephens was a driven woman. She had started this publishing company all on her own when she was only twenty-eight. She was everything that I had hoped to be in this business. Her passion for literature was admirable. A pure representation of my own passions and dreams. 

"Now," she leans over her desk. Taking her glasses off, she folds them shut, and holds them in her grasp. "When I was first starting out, I had done all of this on my own. Just like you, I went to university and built all of this from the bottom up. However, I never had anyone to guide me. Help me learn the ropes of publishing. I had a passion for books and that was all that I had to go off of. I never had any hands-on experience to go by." 

I sit straight in my chair. Listening with intent as she continues on. 

"I see a lot of potential in you, Miss. Maxwell. You have a drive that I had in myself when I was your age. You are bright and this," she holds up my folder, "Is very thought out. I think it could work out well in the long run. But, before we can start it up, I have a proposition for you."