It had been upon cleaning out her truck out that Hayley had found Aria’s jacket tucked between the passenger seat and the door. She didn’t get around to bringing it back to the girl until almost a full week after they’d run into each other at the beach. She had to admit when she pulled up near the Kelly Properties building that she was a little intimidated and nervous at the prospect of setting foot into the building but also at the potential of seeing Aria again. “Stop being stupid,” she muttered to herself before getting out of the truck, jacket in hand. Sure, she wasn’t exactly dressed for the vibe of the building, her casual post work sweats and tank top on. She sweet talked her way past security, earned herself a visitor badge, and then made her way up to the top floor. Once there she approached the first desk she saw manned by a younger auburn haired woman and said “uh hi, I’m just here to see Aria… A-Ariella… Miss Kelly?”
Organization was paramount for a day’s worth of tasks to be undertaken in a timely manner. It was the imperative bread and butter of Harmony’s efficiency; preliminary maintenance work accounted for the night prior to ensure there would be no delay starting tomorrow. Even so, no amount of preparation could change the fact that there was always a lull during the day— breathing space to fill with tidying up any loose ends that had left her assertive grip. From the intricate (polishing desk supplies) to the mundane (replenishing a water jug with organic lemons slices), Harmony had once again opted out of a late lunch break in favour of using the allotted unscheduled time to regain strict control over every facet of her space.
Regardless of being consistently equipped with full cup of ballpoint at her desk, there was something irreplaceably comforting about the humble abilities of a regular pencil. Trustworthy back up never hurt to have. Ergo, carefully unfolding the tabs of a flat rectangular box of unsharpened 2Bs, Harmony precisely laid out four before reaching back into the shallow top drawer of her desk for a metallic Staedtler manual sharpener. Much to her dismay, the sound of the elevator giving way to approaching footsteps compelled her to deviate from being fully focused on making too much progress in peace. Steadily coaxing her first pencil into a point in the time it took for the out of place intruder to stand directly at her desk, one fleeting glance told Harmony this woman was certainly not on the premises for a meeting. In fact, based on appearance alone, Harmony would have doubted there was any validity behind the purpose of the woman’s existence— if not for the approved permission slip that stupid token visitor badge granted her. Fucking CSO Chad’s platoon of buffoons and their soft spot for tall blondes.
Asides from the badge’s smouldering presence, murkily branding the stranger as ‘not here on business’ but ‘not suspicious enough to be a threat’, the indecisive manner of the woman’s speech was a dead giveaway of the imposter syndrome Harmony had immediately felt inclined to diagnose her with. After the fumbling inquiry, she allowed a pregnant pause to pass between them as she silently flipped through her memorised Rolodex of protocols. To immediately dismiss her without a decent excuse would be unprofessional, and have little consequence besides handing her over to someone else to deal with. Be that as it may, this lost golden puppy was interrupting Harmony’s own personal flow. Which alone was undesirable enough for her to inwardly tally down one offensive tick next to her name. Her name. Fine, she’d bite for that. “Identification?” Asked point blank, confirmation or denial of the proximity of Ariella’s whereabouts remained protectively undisclosed. Not that she was too concerned. Already Harmony was diverting her attention back towards the awaiting pencil next in line for execution, sliding it slowly into the mouth of the angled blades of her sharpener. She patiently applied a practiced twist of force and pressure until the outer black lacquer cracked, smoothly instigating a new spiral of graphite spiked wood shaving. “Do you have an appointment?” Added with a straight face, as much as Harmony wished to smirk — already knowing the answer — she attempted to avoid making a concrete call until feeling out exactly who she was dealing with. Just a stray fool? Or would she prove herself a liar?
Admittedly, the stranger possessed a singular confounding quality that stumped Harmony’s analytical first impression — single adult woman, pleasant facial features, able bodied, the illusion of a very well built frame despite unflatteringly basic attire — yet all potential pros were overshadowed by the contrast of attitude, a sort of shyness that Harmony failed to yet recognise a cause for. Was she scared? Nervous? Guilty? Flustered? How someone like Ariella Kelly could be the source of anyone’s inferiority complex was a mystery to Harmony, unless this woman was naked of the accomplishments her boss was so attractively decorated with. Again brushing up on her appraisal of the visitor with brief once over — standing in a downtown city high-rise looking inexplicably beach ready — she supposed it wasn’t completely unfounded to assume that they were far from equals.
amandla
2087
turnnoffyourmind
titsay
dailybridgerton
stormborns
theartofmadeline
