'Why is this happening…'
Misha felt like crying.
About ten minutes ago, Misha went down to get an ice-americano from the coffee shop on the ground floor. She knew she shouldn't be 'taking a break' on Monday morning - and it wasn't even ten o'clock yet - but she had to cool her head down. Just too many things happened this morning for the poor young lady to bear.
Marissa had an inquisitive look on her face when they passed each other on her way to the elevator, but she said nothing. Misha forced a smile to excuse herself without any word and hurried down.
Luckily, the queue wasn't very long and she managed to get her iced coffee soon enough. With a sigh of relief, she took a big sip and the brain freeze actually felt good. Feeling a little more relaxed, she was rushing back to her office.
What she didn't expect though was that when the elevator opened on her floor, there he was - Mr. Thorne, the man, the myth, the legend. She saw too much of him already today and the cold fire in his eyes as soon as he saw her absolutely terrified her. She froze by the elevator door without being able to step out, and could only step back as the intimidating man walked into the elevator.
'God… I have to get out of here ASAP,' Misha told herself and frantically tapped on the close button.
But the door just wouldn't close.
She kept trying, but the door wouldn't budge. 'Is this broken…?'
Then Misha's thoughts were interrupted cold.
"What are you doing?"
The booming low voice of Mr. Thorne startled her. She turned her head to finally face him again with a nervous smile.
'I probably look like a total idiot now…'
But when their eyes met, it seemed her boss had cooled down a bit too. There was no longer the cold fire in his eyes. But instead, there was… pity.
The intern then noticed that he wasn't staring at her anymore. He was eyeing something else. She followed his gaze, which eventually led to her index finger that was furiously tapping on the open button.
She felt like her face was going to explode from heat. She took a big sip of the iced coffee and calmly - she thought - pressed the correct close button this time.
Luckily, the door closed. As it should.
Misha should have stopped there, but now that she had achieved one thing, she got a little too eager to redeem herself.
"Which floor are you going, Mr. Thorne?"
"The HR floor."
A thousand thoughts swirled in her head when she heard the word 'HR'.
'Is he going to tell them to terminate my internship straight away?'
'Am I seriously going to lose this once in a life time chance of working at Throne Media because I screwed up?'
But despite the disasters that often struck her throughout her life, which she always wondered why, Misha had an admirable trait of finding optimism in every situation.
'He's probably just going there for some other business.'
With that, she let out a sigh - stealthily - and decided to press the button for the HR floor.
The only problem was that she didn't know what floor it was.
However, she was lucky again, because she vaguely remembered going there to get her employee's tag on the first day.
'It was the 15th floor, wasn't it?'
Pressing the wrong floor was probably better than standing there like an idiot, so she took a stab in the dark, and pressed the round button with the number 15 written on it.
"That's not the HR floor."
Her scary boss corrected her immediately.
"O… Of course."
She figured if it wasn't the 15th floor, it must be either 14th or 16th floor. She was sure it was within that range. So she pressed both 14 and 16.
"Wha-"
Before the CEO could even finish his words, full-on panic gripped Misha
13, 17, 12, 18, 11, 19, 10, 20…
She knew if she kept trying, she was bound to hit the right floor.
James Thorne - the man who thought he had seen it all, realized that he was facing the biggest idiot he'd ever met in his life. And then-
"No, not that one!"
It was too late when the capable CEO's momentary slip of attention let the disaster girl press on the emergency stop button.
With a big thud, the elevator stopped between floors. It went dark for a second, and then dim emergency light came on.
After standing frozen for a good five seconds, Misha stole a quick glance at the CEO standing next to her. He stood still like a statue. His eyes were vacant.
A drop of cold sweat ran down her back. Not for the first time this morning.
"Mr. Thorne."
But the man said nothing. His perfectly carved face showed no sign of emotion. Not even a hint of annoyance. That's what scared her even more. She was getting nervous. Restless in her heart. Shaky hands. Something had to be done. Something had to be said.
"Would you like some iced coffee?"
James Thorne, 28 years old, the young Emperor of the media industry, was lost for words for the first time in his life.