Hey everybody this is my first little story thing so I hope you'll all like it! It involves a secret agent, a lost diplomat, and romance. First post in a little bit.
It was the first day of my new job. I approached the boss' door, hands shaking. I knocked. A short, fat, bald man in a blue suit opened the door. "Hello. May I help you?" he said. "I'm your new journalist, Rose Marie." I said shyly. " I expected someone older." he said with a frown on his face. He showed me to my cubicle. It was surrounded by offices of sports journalists. I swallowed hard. These journalists were all men. Men made me nervous.
I opened the door to my office and peeked in. I don't know why I was so surprised to see the nothingness that was there, after all my entire life felt like it only amounted to nothing. I ran down to my car to get my Ikea office furniture. My desk was called the Floonahooben or something in mock Swedish. After I arranged the furniture in a very homey and comfortable way I sat down at my desk and put my head down. "Dear Lord, what have I got myself into." I grumbled under my breath. There was a knock at my door. "It's open." I said. A very attractive young man was there.
"H...hello." I stuttered out of nervousness. "Hi! I'm Philip! You must be the new girl! Did I mention I'm Philip? My office is right around the corner if you need anything. Sorry didn't catch your name. What is it again?" Philip talked really fast and energetically. It was almost impossible for me to keep up. "Rose Marie." I said quietly. My heart was pounding in my chest. I had never had any luck with guys, ever. I could never really get up the courage to talk to them being shy and all. In the entirety of my twenty-three years of life I had only loved one guy, but he was taken away from me when he was killed in a car accident. He was hit head on by a drunk driver, died before he even had a chance to realize what was going on. Since that day I looked at dating with a melancholy attitude and vowed to never love again.
I was only sixteen when my first love was taken away. Here I was twenty-three years old, never dated anybody and never kissed anyone. It was a deliberate choice in remembrance of my beloved Ricky, who I never actually had the chance to say "I love you" to until the funeral. I still thought of him often and this Philip guy brought back memories of Ricky. I couldn't hold back tears. I slammed the door in Philip's face. I sat at my desk and held my head in my hands and cried. Had I held on to this too long? I'm sure this behavior seemed insane to the average outsider. I had never talked to anyone about my deep sorrow. I felt that nobody cared.
The phone rang. I wiped my eyes and took a deep breath. "Hello?" I said trying not to sound like I'd been crying. "Hi. This is Philip. Is everything alright? You looked kinda sick or something back there." Philip said with a concerned but yet still cheery voice. "Yeah everything's fine." I was still trying to hold back tears. "Ok. Doesn't sound like it, but I'll take your word for it. Are you sure you don't need anything?" Philip sounded deeply concerned and serious. "I'm good." My voice squeaked out of my choked up throat. I felt a tear stream down my face. "I have to go. Bye." I hung up. Why was Philip so worried? I didn't even know him. I returned to "work". I turned on my laptop and started researching a little background for the story I had to have written by the next day. It's title, Big Band Swing. I had been hired as an arts writer, but unbeknownst to my boss, I wasn't actually a writer. I was a detective, working for Scotland Yard, and put undercover at a small newspaper in The-Middle-of-Nowhere's-Ville, Iowa. It's a good thing I didn't have a British accent.
My first day of work did turn out to be effective. I finished my article on Big Band Swing and actually learned something. I typed my last word for the day and turned around to look at the clock. It was 4:59, "come on clock, make it five so I can go home!" That last minute of work seemed to last an eternity. Finally, the clock struck 5 and I could go home. As I left my office I nearly ran into Philip. "Hey there!" he said, "It's been a long first day. Wanna go grab a drink?" "Sorry, I don't drink." I said. It was the truth. I had never had one drop of alcohol. The "Aqua Vitae" had killed my love and I refused to touch it. "How about coffee?" Philip asked with a grin. "It makes me jittery." I said, turning down Philip again. "I know you're hungry, how about we go grab dinner? My treat!" Philip insisted. "Maybe some other time." I replied. I could see that Philip was disappointed with my response. I wasn't ready to be alone with a guy that had his caliber of happiness. He was probably on drugs or something, no person could possibly be that happy on their own.
From the desk of Philip Richards III: Today the new employee arrived at the office. To my surprise, it was a beautiful young girl named Rose Marie. She seems very nice, but she is very reserved and quiet. I asked her out to dinner and she turned me down. I wonder if she knows that I really want to get close to her. I wonder what makes her shy. She's too young to have experienced anything too drastic. I can't wait to see what tomorrow will bring. I hope she'll open up more to me.