Marry me

Chapter Four.

I received different looks from everyone, as I was walking to Mr. Trevelyan's office: a couple of stares, a bunch of glares, a few sympathetic looks, and a whole lot of snickers.

"First day of work, and you're daydreaming at your point of duty." Even though, his voice was calm and steady, I almost winced. Almost. "You weren't hired to daydream."

Unfortunately.

"I'm sorry..." I said instead and he raised a brow. "...sir."

"Go to the coffee room and get me some coffee, in the next ten seconds," he ordered and I was surprised at how quickly his mood changed.

And to say I was caught off guard would be an understatement.

"Yes, Sir." I scurried out of the office, only to stumble on something, lose my footing, and fall. A colorful string of expletives spewed out of my mouth as I planted my face into the marble floor. Rubbing my forehead, I groaned and my gaze shifted up. It was not something, it was someone. 

"Shit! I'm sorry," the man mumbled stooping low to help me up. "Hi, I'm-" 

"Yeah, nice to meet you too but I have to leave," I cut him off and rushed to the hallway.

Where is Susan? I ran my hand in my hair and searched frantically for Susan. I finally spotted her and I ran over to her.

"Hey, Susan. Where do they make coffee?"

She turned at me, somewhat bewildered. Her head tilted to the side and her eyebrows infinitesimally went upwards. "In coffee-making factories?"

I let out a heavy sigh, rubbing my face. "Where is the coffee room in this building?"

"Oh yeah, it is on the thirteenth floor."

I breathed out a huff of breath, my chest heaving dutifully. "Thanks."

Mumbling to myself about how far the distance between the elevator and where I stood was, I speed-walked to the elevator and pressed the open button. A few impatient foot tapping and nervous nail-biting later, the damn elevator doors pinged open and I rushed inside.

*

"Here's your coffee, Sir," I muttered as I lowered the cup of coffee on my very cheerful employer's table.

"Miss. Greene, you're twenty-two seconds late," he muttered, his face as expressionless as the bottom of my shoe. His stormy grey eyes met mine and a dull chill swept over my limbs. "And I hate tardiness," he continued. "The time you wasted would be deducted from your pay."

I introduced my jaw to the floor underneath my feet, in other words, my jaw slackened. "Excuse me, Sir-"

"Miss. Greene, you're well excused," he cut in, reclining back in his swivel chair, his face, though expressionless, still managing to look smug.

I gritted my molars and the gnashing noise of grinding teeth reverberated in my ears. "Sir, it takes an average elevator to go down twenty floors no less than forty seconds and in case you haven't noticed yet, I don't have wings or extra legs-"

"Indeed, that would be anatomically absurd," he interrupted once again.

My fingers twitched and I forced a breath through my nostrils. "Yes, Sir," I let out. "But, Sir, my point is that if you decide to deduct-"