"Celia Janson, right this way please," a male voice said, startling me out of my daydreams. He was dressed in a tailored suit and tie, motioning for me to follow him.
We walked up the hall and entered into a room with five people seated around a table.
Well, here goes nothing, I thought, nervous but elated. I took an empty chair at the table. If I did well in this training course, I would be much closer to my goal of leaving my boring bank teller job. Getting in with a major financial institution like this was the key to my future and I knew it.
I sat down, looking around at the people I would be training with. I seemed to be the youngest person here, by a long shot. Before I could think too much into this, the door I had just come through opened up and the room grew instantly quiet, with all eyes pinned toward the door.
What's going on? I thought. I had been adjusting my purse on the chair and didn't immediately understand what everyone was looking at.
I followed their gaze and looked toward the door. I could not believe my eyes. Alex Chain was entering the room. This man was essentially a god in the world of finance. He owned this company, but I didn't realize that he actually appeared in person here. I most certainly didn't expect to see him in real life, now or ever.
Rising to incredible, record-breaking success before turning 30, this man was rumored to be as rich as Oprah. He was essentially one of my idols and I was trying to get my head around actually being in the same room as him when I realized I was gaping and closed my mouth.
I knew this guy was hot (after all, I was an avid reader of Financial Weekly and he was featured in it at least every few months), but I wasn't prepared for his presence in the flesh.
Alex Chain was tall, with medium-length black hair, bright blue eyes, and incredible dark lashes that made them stand out. In the photos I'd seen of him, I could tell that his eyes were nice, but in person, they were beyond captivating. He was also a genius, hence his professional and social status. And unlike other "finance geeks," he had the brain and the looks.
I had seen several seminars given by him and his advice to new investors was always spot on, articulate, and well-spoken. On top of all of that, he was in amazing shape. I had read in his interviews that he was an avid tennis player and also lifted weights and did running.
All of this was obvious and his tall physique was stunning even in the suit jacket and dress shirt he had on. I found myself wondering what he looked like without these extra layers. By the looks on the other women's faces, I wasn't the only one.
"Hello, everyone," he said in a deep and commanding tone, "Welcome to our training course." He seemed either unaware or simply unfazed by everyone's shocked and awed reaction to seeing him in the flesh. "This is where we find out what you're made of. Take out some paper and write down your ambitions for this job."
I did as he said, but kept a close eye on him. I simply couldn't help myself. He was looking around the room at each person and when his eyes met mine, he didn't simply scan past as he had with all the others. His eyes lingered and a slight smile formed on his face, his eyes narrowing. I could almost feel them burning into me. I waited for him to look away and, when he didn't, I finally broke eye contact by looking down. I could feel my face burning.
"Now, I want you to take these notes home, think about them, and see if you still feel the same way after sleeping on it," he continued after everyone had spent about 15 minutes writing. "We want people with a clear direction for this company. Make sure you know what you want before you return tomorrow," he said, "You can all go home now."
There were some surprised murmurs around the room. Was that really it? 20 minutes of training? But nobody argued. This man knew what he was talking about when it came to professional banking, after all, and his status and bank account proved that many times over.
"All except for you," he said, and my heart leapt into my chest. Oh my god, I thought, looking up and seeing that his eyes were again fixed unwaveringly on me. I started wondering again if I had done something wrong, then realized that that was impossible. I had done exactly what everyone else had. Why was I being singled out?
Maybe he could tell just by looking at me that I was too young and inexperienced to be here and was going to send me back to my teller job. The rest of the people in the room filed out, some glancing back at me curiously. The door closed. It sounded deafeningly loud.
"Come over here," Alex said to me, again using that commanding tone, as if no one had ever said no to him before. I had no idea what to expect and found that I had intense butterflies leaping around in my stomach. On legs that felt like cooked spaghetti, I walked over to where he stood. As though there were an electric force field around him, every hair on my body stood up as I got nearer to him. I started tingling and my face continued to burn.
"What's your name?" he asked me, his eyes still searing into my soul. I told him.
"Celia," he said, the sound of his voice saying my name making my legs feel even weaker. I was actually facing Alex Chain, having a conversation with him. I had daydreamed about talking to him and probing his mind for tips on financial success, many times.
Now I was taking in his overwhelming vibe, looking into his face, and being directly addressed by him. It was almost too much to handle mentally.
"You'll be happy to know that I've decided to give you a special position," he continued.
A special position? What the hell could that possibly mean?
"They probably didn't tell you, but I just transferred from a small local bank and had to convince my boss to let me come," I said, "I don't know much yet abou-"
But he held up his hand to cut off my speech. I had been rambling.
"Never mind all that, Celia. Let's see if you're a good fit for what I have in mind. Turn around," he said.
I stood still, thinking I must have heard him wrong
"You heard me," he said, that faint smile forming on his lips again. I spun around.
"Hands on the desk," he said.