“Thank you, Ms…” I started to say, but the woman had already turned and left. I looked back at the secretary who only smiled and shrugged.

“Sorry about that, she’s a manager looking to get higher status in the company. She doesn’t like to be away from her work for very long.” She told me. Pressing a button on her speaker phone she spoke again. “Mr. King? Mr. Orious has arrived; do you want me to send him in?” She released the button, and the two of us stared at it, uncomfortably for several moments. There was no answer. Angie grinned sheepishly up at me. “I know he’s in there, I saw him only a little bit ago and I would have known if he left…” she mumbled apologetically to me, before pressing the speaker button again. “Mr. King…” but a deep voice interrupted her.

“I heard you the first time, Miss. Hanover. Send Orious in.” the voice said in a very unfriendly manner.

“Sounds like a real sweetheart.” I said frowning, and pulling at my lower lip…a habit I picked up whenever I was worried or in deep thought, and never got over.

“He…he isn’t the nicest man, I admit.” Angie shivered. “You can go on in, Mr. Ori…” but this time it was I who cut her off.

“You can just call me Owen. Mr. Orious was my dad.” I said grinning. She smiled and went back to working on whatever it was she had. “Um…I don’t suppose you’d be interested in maybe…grabbing a bite to eat later??” I asked her, blushing sheepishly after checking to see if she had any rings on her fingers or anything.

She looked back up at me and cocked an eyebrow, examining my obese overweight body in a matter of seconds. “I don’t date anybody I work with. Sorry.” She said, trying to give me a nice pity smile before returning to work. I hovered over her for a few seconds more, before she spoke again. “Mr. King really isn’t a patient man, you shouldn’t keep him waiting.” She told me. Sighing quietly enough so she wouldn’t hear, I thanked her and entered Mr. King’s office.

It was as if I’d walked into the Twilight Zone or something. King’s office was completely different from all the rest of the building. Instead of being covered in the sickening red, his office was all black and white. The file cabinets were all black; his desk was a deep brown…resembling black. The walls were white and cheerless, and there were no pictures or paintings anywhere to be found. King’s desk was the exact opposite of his receptionists, completely clean except for a sophisticated computer on the right side, and a very old typewriter on the left side. It looked like it was made in the early 1900’s or so. All in all, the office was completely devoid of any happiness at all.