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Dayvon rolls his eyes seeing how everyone observes him intensely, most likely judging him based on his appearance. The twenty-five-year-old had just gotten out of prison about a week ago. Getting a regular job was his only option if he didn't want to end up back in jail.
The man knew that jumping right back into the street life would only land him in jail for fifty years to life and he didn't want that. The judge was done sparring him. If he ever got arrested again, even if it was for driving with a suspended license, Dayvon would spend the rest of his years behind bars. The Judge was tired of seeing the man in court only to be found not guilty of all of his charges that they both knew he was guilty of.
Ignoring everyone Dayvon made his way up to the front desk. Putting on his professional voice he says, "Hello, My name is Dayvon and--
He's cut off by the petite, blonde hair woman, holding up her freshly manicured index finger, silently telling the man to give her a second. Biting his tongue, Dayvon takes a step back folding his hands behind his back.
Many would say that the man had anger problems but Dayvon would strongly disagree, stating that 'people need to learn how to treat others with respect.' The others would agree with him not wanting him to flash out.
After minutes of waiting for the receptionist to get off of the phone, Dayvon had become inpatient. Stepping back up to the desk he gently removes the phone from the woman's hand ending the call. Holding up his finger telling the woman to be quiet before she could get out a single word. Everyone that had eyes on the man gasped in shock at his actions, not ever seeing anyone do such a thing.
Not bothering to use his 'professional' voice he says, "Now like I was saying before, my name is Dayvon Bennett and I have an interview with Mr. Banks at 9:30,"
Taking a glimpse at his watch he continues, "Right now it is 9:28. You need to call upstairs and tell him that I have arrived. If I'm late because you decided to waste time speaking on the phone about nothing that has to do with your job, I will make sure that every last one of your limbs is delivered to each one of your family members. Do you understand me?" He says his tone lower than before not wanting everyone to hear his last sentence.
Whimpering in fear she rapidly picks up the phone, dialing the CEO's office number. Dayvon smirks taking a step back.
"H-he says to go on up," she lets out her voice laced with fear. She wasn't used to people talking to her in that manner, and there was no misgiving in her mind telling her that the fairly tall man would not stay true to his word which is why she didn't bother giving a smart remark.
The man turns around ready to make his way upstairs only to halt and turn back around. "Make sure something like this doesn't happen again or you won't like the outcome." and with that, he continues on with his journey.
Entering the elevator he presses the button with the number thirty on it. That was the highest floor in the building. Before the large metal doors could close a hand comes in between them influencing the doors to open again. In steps a brown-skinned man who stood at the same height as Dayvon.
Dayvon gazes at the male noticing that he had a lazy eye. "What floor?" he asks, turning his attention back to the doors in front of him.
"Thirty, you here for an interview?" the man asks. Dayvon nods not really in the mood for conversation.
"Alright well, good luck with Durk- Mr. Banks. He can be rude at times. My name is Dominique, my office is on this floor. If you get the job feel free to stop by for some advice." he finishes just as the elevator comes to a stop.
"Good luck, " Dominique tells him before strolling out of the elevator. Dayvon shakes his head at the weird man while making his way to Mr.Bank's office.
Dayvon knocks on the door twice before entering knowing that the man was already expecting him. He steps in closing the door behind him.
Noticing that the older male was on the phone, Dayvon takes a seat in one of the chairs. While waiting for the other to get off of the phone, he takes a look around the room. The theme is black, grey, and white.
The walls are grey and hold pictures that are black and white. Each of them reading: Hustle, Grind, and Execution with its part of speech and its meaning under it. His desk is black and shiny covered with stacks of paper and his laptop.
On another side of the room, the entire wall is nothing but three large, clean windows that you can look out and watch over the entire city. A small couch rest against the windows. The other side of the room was just a storage place.
Feeling someone staring at him he stops observing the room and turns around seeing Mr. Banks sitting at his desk smirking. Dayvon never liked people staring at him, he felt as though they were thinking of strategies to set him up or knock his head off. He had seen too many niggas get set up and it was always a bitch that would lure them in.
Living in the hood close by many of your opps will do that to you tho. He always had to be on the lookout and always had to keep his blick on him no matter what, he refused to get killed because he was caught lacking.
With that being said a mug quickly rests upon his face. "Are you gone start the interview or--"
"You're hired, be here tomorrow by seven o'clock so that you can get set up in your office, " Mr.Banks says cutting him off. After reading Dayvon's application yesterday, he knew that he would hire him on the spot.
He liked how honest the twenty-five-year-old was, he didn't try to hide or sugar coat anything and that's what he needed in a person who applied to become his assistant. And now that he has seen Dayvon, he also knows that based on his aura alone he's not the type to play any games or kiss ass, that's also what he needed.
"You're dismissed, " he says laughing at the confusion expressed on Dayvon's face. Dayvon gets up and walks out of the room kind of in shock.
