Excerpt: Uncensored (Chapter Three)

CHAPTER THREE

My eyes continue to roam around, searching for the smallest inkling of excitement, but get nothing. There doesn't seem to be anything particularly prestigious about this place, not that I can see, anyway.
In fact, it's apparently filled with a bunch of mental patients who feel up random women in the hallways, and others who immediately start babbling on about their dissatisfaction with their hair color to any stranger who just happens to be trapped in the elevator with them.          I wasn't necessarily expecting fanfare when I walked through the front doors, or to be given my very own office, complete with an espresso machine and an assistant of my own.
I mean, I knew that I was going to have to put in some time doing "intern things" in the beginning. I just didn't think that I would be having to work alongside people who, quite honestly, don't seem very impressive.
After all, this place is supposed to be something of a factory when it comes to churning out successful environmental consultants who write their own paychecks. At least, that's how the rumors go.          I hand over the folders to my boss, who gives me once-over before telling me I can take a break if I want. I haven't eaten anything all day, so I sit down at the little desk in the corner of the main room that they've assigned to me, and open up the bag of chips that I'd picked up from the store on my way into work this morning.
Just as I rip the foil packaging open, I notice that one of the corner offices' blinds is finally being opened. It had been closed since I'd arrived, and I hadn't heard a sound escape from the crack beneath the door next to it.          An older woman comes into view, standing at the window as she pulls at the blind cord. Unexpectedly, she stares at me for a moment as she continues to draw them open. 
For one reason or another, I get the impression that she isn't happy to see me there, even though she probably doesn't have the faintest idea of who I am. Her expression is cold, with her thin lips pursed as though they have never cracked a smile in her long life.          Once she moves away from the window, I can see a man seated in a chair in front of the desk. His hair is a deep black, with flecks of brown scattered throughout. The hue of his skin is on the paler side, and it seems even more pale against the dark coloring of his suit—an expensive looking one that has obviously been custom tailored to fit his chiseled frame.
He stands up, seemingly to leave, and I can't help but notice how tall he is. He's easily well over six feet, his height seems all the more impressive because of his great build; his shoulders are wide apart and his back is broad, all held in an impeccable, upright posture.
He's built like a pro athlete; both big, tall, and visibly muscled even beneath his expensive clothes, and he has such an imposing presence to top it off, like he belongs in the Oval Office or a in boxing ring instead of an environmental consulting firm.
He looks terribly out of place here.
If he didn't seem so intimidating—even from behind—I'd be tempted to go up to him and ask if he was lost.          He glances over at me through the window just as I place another chip into my mouth, clumsily letting its crumbs collect around my lips as I bite down. My eyes meet his, and I almost choke on the single chip now lodged in my throat as I feel all the air rush out of my lungs without my permission.
He continues to stare at me, and for a few seconds, I find that I can't breathe. And I can't seem to look away from his piercing gaze as it continues to hold mine, either.
He smiles at me, and I lick away the specks of salt that are burning my dry lips. His gaze remains fixed on me for quite some time, even after the smile is gone from his face and a look of what I can only peg as fascination or curiosity takes its place.          The man who'd been seated across the desk from him is the one who I'd been very briefly introduced to when I'd arrived this morning. He's my boss' boss, Sam, and seems like a nice enough person, despite the fact that everyone keeps saying that you don't want to get on his bad side.
Then again, that saying really never made much sense to me, because you never really want to get on anyone's bad side when it comes down to it.          The tall man in the pricey suit finally takes his eyes off me and begins walking towards the door, but not before saying something to Sam, who then shoots a glimpse in my direction.
The look in Sam's eyes is questioning, and I can't help but feel that something significant just transpired between them, although I'm not sure what. Both their reactions are quite strange, and a bit unnerving to be quite honest, but I shrug off the unease I feel when I see that they're finally heading out of the office and walking over to the elevator.
The tall suited man gives me one last look before disappearing behind the corridor wall, smirking and striding confidently.
Why wouldn't he be confident, though?, I think to myself.
He's obviously achieved a whole lot, possibly everything that he's ever really wanted in life, judging by the way he carries himself and the fact that he seems to be associating so casually with the director of a prestigious firm like Sam.
Plus, he has good looks and, evidently, a good amount of money.
Okay, fine. He has incredibly good looks and obviously ten boatloads of cash. And he's even still young enough to really enjoy it all. He looks to be maybe in his late twenties or early thirties at the most.          I go back to eating my snack, doing my best to pretend that this stranger's stare didn't just set all my limbs on fire, urging my mind to focus on anything other than his molten amber eyes until Timothy comes out of his office to tell me that I can leave early if I want.
Apparently his wife had called him and said that he needed to go to his daughter's school for some emergency, and I wouldn't really have anything to do without him there.
Given the way the day is going, I'm more than happy to head home a couple of hours before I'm supposed to, especially since the boredom is bound to get even worse if I stick around.
As I head out of the building and to my car, I can’t believe that the only interesting thing that has happened all day, a day that was supposed to be full of excitement, was a beautiful stranger with dark hair and warm amber eyes staring at me through a window.
As much as I try not to, I can't stop myself from wondering who he is, why he was looking at me, and what he said to Sam. And as much as I hate to admit it—because, let’s face it, the guy had ‘man whore’ written all over him—I find him incredibly attractive. I’m just puzzled by why he seemed to have such a fascination for—or at least, what I secretly hope is some sort of interest in—the girl in the corner desk who was messily eating her potato chips.