•3• Priscilla

I can’t believe I actually got the job. Southerford Inc. is notoriously difficult to get into, even for experienced professionals, and I got the job?

If this isn’t a pinch-me moment, I don’t know what is. 

I’m being led to the third floor of the main building through the atrium by one Mr. Smith. He tells me he’s one of the first members on the team of legal experts, and it takes no genius to guess he’s one of the senior members on the team-- work-wise as well as age-wise. 

“Now, Ms. Gard, I’d like you to not feel overwhelmed by work on your first day,” Mr. Smith says with a smile, but there’s just something so cunning about the air around him that I restrict myself to formal yet cordial smiles with him. “I’d suggest getting familiar with your surroundings and colleagues today, and then we can slowly get you used to your work targets.”

The lift dings open on the third floor, and Mr. Smith gestures for me to step out first. 

I do. 

This floor is full of half-structured cabins in the centre and glass-door offices all around the perimeter. People all around are working, not once glancing up to see the newcomer that’s me, because that’s just the amount of workload they have. 

Just the thought makes me gulp. 

But Mr. Smith leads me on before I have time to dwell on it. 

“This is the law department, Priscilla- I hope you don’t mind me calling you by your name,” he says, and even though I do mind, I shake my head no. “Excellent. Now, Priscilla, I’ll introduce you to the manager here- Ah, there he is- Ruben!”

A tall guy with a buzz cut and a boyish grin, who’s explaining some document to one of his colleagues, turns to look at Mr. Smith. 

I’ve got to admit, the guy is cute. Or maybe it’s just my hormones speaking, because I haven’t been with a guy in 3 years, and I think the loneliness is really starting to get to me. 

Mr. Smith waves him over. And he obliges, smiling. 

His eyes slide over to mine while he makes his way to us, and I swear I feel my stomach birthing butterflies inside me. 

And then he flashes me a goofy grin, and I’m pretty sure I’m a puddle of mush on the floor. Mr. Smith clears his throat from beside me, though, and I gather myself and look away from Ruben before I get too carried away. 

When Ruben’s standing toe to toe with Mr. Smith, he dips his head. “Yes, sir?”

Mr. Smith laughs in response, slapping a hand on the guy’s  shoulder. “Drop the formalities, son.”

He then gestures to me, his other arm still draped over Ruben. 

“This is Priscilla, our newest legal expert-”

I feel myself blush embarrassedly when he calls me that. 

“-and I want you to introduce her to the team and this place. Get her comfortable, yes?”

He pats Ruben on the back twice and hands him my form, smiles kindly my way, then leaves. And I almost twiddle my thumbs when I’m left alone with my guide. But apparently he isn’t as flustered as I am.

Obviously. 

Because I’m not the prettiest specimen of woman on this planet. 

I get that. 

But it’s still disheartening that not one guy thinks I’m even... cute. I mean, of course, the likes of Gerrard Southerford are never going to think me cute, but not even Ruben? 

“So, Priscilla Gard, huh,” Ruben says, lifting his eyes from my form to my face. 

I shake myself out of my thoughts. Get your hormones in check, Prisci...

”Yes,” I laugh lightly. 

Ruben grins. “This way.”

He leads me down the narrow stretch of floor that isn’t taken up by cabin structures.

”This is our floor, Priscilla,” he tells me, gesturing to the whole space at large, “the legal experts’ floor. We all work here, together, no matter the seniority. Only difference is that those higher off in the hierarchy have their own glass ‘chambers’ while the rest of us labor on in these half built ‘enclosures’.”

I laugh when he says that. His tone is light and humorous, his aura so calming that I immediately forget any inhibitions I had before. 

“I’m the one who gives every cabin-mate, such as yourself,  your daily targets, I’m the one who reviews their progress, I’m the one who assesses them, and I’m also the one you come to when you need someone for help. Are you with me still?”

I nod, smiling. 

“Great. Now, this is your cabin. Remo is your neighbour here. Remo, say hi to Priscilla.”

Remo, a dark-chocolate skinned, Winston Duke lookalike, waves at me. “Hi, Priscilla. First day?”

I wave back, nodding, but-

“Yes, Remo. It is. Now how is that contract coming along? Did you contact Mr. Soloman?” Ruben asks.

Remo simply hands him a file. 

Taking it, Ruben turns to me. It’s only when his smile returns that I realise it left his face in the first place. He pats my desk. “Have a seat, darling, I’ll have something sent your way, okay?”

Its only when he leaves that I’m able to process his words. Did he just-

“Don’t be too friendly with him,” Remo whispers from beside me. “He doesn’t know how to handle it.”

But then he shrugs. “It’s nothing surprising, though.”

I frown. “Why would you say that?”

He shrugs again. “When you have a father in high places, your nose tends to be high up in the air.”

Ruben’s father is in high places? What-

“What does Ruben’s father do?” I ask, feeling a creepy feeling tingle down my spine. 

“Runs half this company. Practically,” Remo says, and my eyebrows rise to meet my hairline. “Do you know what Ruben’s full name is?”

I shake my head, eyes big. 

“Ruben Smith. Argo Smith’s only son.”