☆ symphony harris has just graduated after two years at a university her parents chose for her. feeling annoyed with her parents' suffocating nature and controlling attitudes, she searches for a job, determined to live her own life free of all press...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
one may say that i spend too much time in my office. but i far prefer being safe and tucked away in here all day than having meetings with stuffy men in suits that probably cost more than my car.
i will now gladly say that i very much do not want to be a ceo of a company. not now and most likely not ever. i've watched it eat up my father's time my entire life and now i see mr ward each day going in and out of the building for meetings upon meetings some days and then on others i scarcely see him once just to hand him his coffee in the morning then not again until i am leaving for the day and he's just then showing up to settle in for an evenings worth of work. not that i mind the not seeing him part it's just that when it's my job to keep track of his schedule, it can be difficult to do so when he leaves all day for meetings i don't always know about.
like clock work i peak out into the hall just to catch a glance of him throwing his coat over his arm before heading for the elevators. i think about the day i first saw him at the cemetery, my heart feeling heavy. he always comes back just as straight faced as when he left; never more sad and never happier, just...quiet. i want so badly to know if it's his father's grave he's visiting but i would never ask something so intrusive and risk making things uncomfortable. not when i'm just beginning to feel more at ease in my position here.
i eat my lunch at my desk while he's gone, typing away at his itinerary in my macbook and chewing on an apple. i quite enjoy scheduling things, setting reminders, answering phones, and filing. it makes me feel at peace in a way to be in an environment that demands organization, structure, and consistency.
i listen to the messages on the machine, taking notes and writing messages on a sticky note for him to read when he gets back. standing up, i carry the sticky note and my apple into his office humming an old theme song to a nostalgic show my father used to watch as i go. placing the sticky note on his desk, i'm about to turn on my heel and walk back when i see the corner of what looks to be a worn photograph sitting temptingly atop his desk.
i look around the silent room dumbly as if someone might be in there waiting to see if i'll take the bait set before me. of course i know it's not really bait per say it just more or less feels like it as i stare, the nosy woman in me wanting nothing more than to take a look. i'm sure it's nothing private if it's laying on his desk, right? then again it does look like it's hidden beneath paper and scribbled notes.
with a sigh of defeat, i reach forward and slowly pull it out from underneath the paper, bringing it up to my eyes for a better view. i don't know why i feel such surprise when i see mr ward in the photograph seated at a baby grand piano with a grin so large i hardly recognize him as the same man i see each day. of course that goofy smile may have something to do with the beautiful red headed woman on his arm staring at him adoringly. i smile at the picture, running my thumb over his happy face. i wonder how much has to happen to one person before they allow this kind of joy to be completely lost from them.
