The Secret Heir’s Return

"Ok Angela, remember, first impressions last." I tell myself as I step out of the grey taxi.

I brush at my peach work dress, making sure I look my best for the first day of work as Mr Cross secretary.

I fix the skinny black belt around my tiny waist, because it is feeling slightly uncomfortable.

I gaze up at the four story glass building that is now my work place.

"This is it." I say to myself before walking off.

“Hey lady, are you gonna play?" The cab driver yells after me.

I hurry back to his car, take out a 20 to give to him.

"Keep the change." I smile at him.

"There is none." He frowns at me before driving off.

I smooth down my curly shoulder-length brown hair before walking back to the entrance of the building.

Never did I dream of working at Metrosports, but here I am, about to step into a lifelong dream of mine.

I reach out to open the door, not realising that they are automatic, so they open on their own.

I glance around to make sure no one saw that before proceeding inside.

The cool crisp air from the inside hit me in the face, along with the powerful scent of a male cologne.

"Hello, maybe I help you?" A pretty blonde standing at the reception area asks.

She gives a smile, but it didn't reach her eyes.

"I'm Angela Smith-"

"Oh, yes. The new secretary. Someone will be down in a minute to show you around."

I can see the blonde checking me out as I wait. When our eyes meet, she gives me a not so genuine smile, then peers at the computer before her.

"Angela?" Another blonde ask, as she step out of the elevator.

"Yes."

"You can call me Adele, right this way, please." She turns her back towards me and walks off.

I play with the ends of my hair, now feeling self cautious, after seeing two other blondes passing us by.

"So, I will give you the run through of how things work around here. As previous secretary and now agent, I think I am the best person to tell you what Mr Cross expects from you."

I look around the spacious building. From the outside, it didn't look like much. It had no life or personality to it, but on the inside, it is a different statement.

With blown up posters of athletes on the walls, numerous awards, and trophies in show cases.

"Wow." I say, as I pass different office areas with people busy on the phone, or busy at their task.

"Yes, in here you are an adult, so all the childish behaviour is behind you." Adele said.

"Welcome to the fourth and final floor. There are only two offices here, yours and Mr Cross. This is your office, lovely space and view if you enjoy looking at back allies. The meeting room is down the hall on your left, the boardroom is on your right."

"No one is allowed up here expect for you, and the man himself. You have two breaks, one at 12 and the other at 4. Work finishes at 7 and starts at 9 the next morning. Please don't be like the last idiot that thought she had to come back after 2 hours. She was the laughing stack for a month because of that, and quit shortly after."

"You are expected to put through only potential clients, no prank calls, no paparazzi, not even his parents. Make any and every appointments, doctor's visits, dental check up. Book flights and hotels."

"You go to all events with him, hanging off his arm like a little rich bitch and laugh at all his stupid jokes."

"And please, please, any interviews that you are going to get him booked for make sure they are meaningful. Mr Cross hates wasting his time."

"You are also responsible for getting only Mr Cross lunch. Don't let anyone else do it. Don't get anyone else's lunch either. Mr Cross likes his coffee black, with two sugars. It is to be placed on the left side of his desk. One in the morning, a soy latte at around 1 and sweet tea at 5, all in the same position."

"Work credit cards are in the centre draw, so is your work I.D. Oh and don't spend on anything too personal, the credit card is to only buy you lunch, and book your tickets when leaving the country."

I nod at all Adele said, trying to keep up because she is talking too fast and hardly gives me time to respond.

"Get it, got it, good. Have fun. One more thing, no flirting with Mr Cross. Keep it strictly business." Adele opens the door, about to walk out.

"Wait, I don't have a passport."

"Well, get one before the day is out."

“How?’’

Just then, an attractive-looking man enters my office. Adele steps aside for him.

"And who might you be?" He asks.

"Angela, she is the new secretary." Adele respond for me.

The man, whose black hair is slicked back with gel, runs his hazel eyes up and down my body. As his thin pink lips form into a lopsided grin, causing his already handsome angular face to brighten up.

"Lose the shoes. They look awful." He said, then turn to leave.

"Who was that?"

"Mr Cross." Adele give me a look, one that said 'are you for real?'

I open my mouth, but didn't get a chance to say anything.

"It's fine, just make sure you do your work and you'll be ok. The phone is ringing, the greeting is Metrosports, where stars are signed and aligned."

I place a hand on my forehead to calm myself down before answering the phone.

"Metrosports, where stars are signed and aligned.''

"Clear my schedule and get me a spot in the NBA Draft pick. There are new talents to represent and I want us at the forefront." Mr Cross said.

Moments after, he exist his office.

I rush to move his appointments to a next day, and block out the rest of the day, while sending those who had a meeting with him the memo.

I hurry to write down all the names and numbers of those that I didn’t have time to message, before running out of my office.

I make it just in time for the elevator doors to open.

Mr Cross glance over at me, then down at my shoes.

"Still wearing those ugly things I see." He said while entering the elevator.

I didn't respond as I enter as well, because I didn't think the way I dressed would have mattered.

"I have my eyes on Kylie Marks. He seems promising. What do you think?"

I rattle my brain to remember who that is. "I think he has potential."

Mr Cross scoffs, "just potential?"

"Yes, I think Ryder Jones would be a better pick. I have been watching him since his first day at UCLA. He is the best Point Guard on the team. Not to mention his jump shots."

Mr Cross smirks, "I'll take your word for it then."

I breathe out, not knowing what to expect from working with Mr Cross because his face hardly gives anything away.

While we exist the building, I notice even more blondes walking around, making me second guessing myself.

I touch my brown hair, hoping that I didn't have to bleach it and become a fake blonde with horrible roots.