Forever Young: Blessing or Curse (Always Young Trilogy) Read Online Free PDF Page B

lot. Vehicles crowded the area, yet Dorrie could
still see the emptiness of that horrible evening and the still form sprawled
across the asphalt.
    She
pulled into a parking spot not far from the scene of the accident, and forced
her trembling legs to propel her out of the car. Tears clouded her vision as
she stopped to stare where she’d last seen Larry. Coincidence or not, that was
the only space empty.
    “Lord,
please help me cope. I miss him so.” Her prayers drifted on the morning air of
a sky blue day. The birds chirped. A gentle breeze rifled her hair. Everything
continued, as if Larry had never been part of it.
    She
swiped at her eyes, hoping her mascara wasn’t running. She did want to look
professional for the interview.
    A
second glance at the fatal spot set off a wave of guilt. Was she doing the
right thing?   Didn’t Larry deserve more respect? What was the matter
with her?
     “Larry,
I’ll always love you. I wish I didn’t have to do this, but I must go in there
and apply for a job. I hope you understand,” she whispered.
    Her
husband had adored his position at the Institute. In a way, being here might
make her feel closer to him. Besides, at this point, she’d have to take what
she could get.
    Determined
not to give in to self-pity, Dorrie straightened her shoulders and headed for
the front entrance. Once she reached the glass door, she pressed the button,
gave her name and was buzzed in. A high heeled, suit clad receptionist greeted
her. “We’ve been expecting you. Right this way, Mrs. Donato.”
    Dorrie
caught a quick glimpse of the atrium’s vaulted ceilings, citrus trees and
greenery bathed in sunlight, before she was whisked into a modern, glass
enclosed elevator, which transported her to the third floor, and down a hallway
lined with geometrically patterned black and white pictures. More patterned
pictures lined the walls of the waiting room, some with varying concentric
purple circles in dizzying patterns.
    “Have
a seat, please,” the receptionist said, gesturing to a chrome and black chair.
    Dorrie
sank gratefully onto the chair, which proved surprisingly comfortable, despite
its sparse appearance.
    Once
the woman had left, Dorrie wiped her moist hands on the skirt of her navy blue
suit. Job hunting, even without the impediment of disturbing memories, didn’t
top her list of fun things to do.
    The
muffled tread of footsteps on the grey patterned carpet alerted her that
someone approached, even before the door opened to reveal Mr. Remington, perfection
himself in a tan suit and cream colored shirt.
    Looks
weren’t everything. As in her first impression of the man, he seemed plastic,
without dimension, like an actor in a commercial.
    He
gestured her inside. “Mrs. Donato, come this way, please.”
    They
walked past a populated area of cubicles, from which resonated the click of
keyboards, and then proceeded down another grey carpeted hallway to what
appeared to be a separate office suite.  
    Once
inside, she noticed three doors leading off the hallway, two of which were
closed. He led her to the open one. Royal blue and gold carpeting lent an
impression of richness, even without the added dimensions of the massive
mahogany desk, cordovan leather couch and matching chairs.
    “Please,
have a seat,” he said, pointing to a chair facing the desk.
    The
entire room spelt quality and meticulousness, from the comfortable, yet
supportive chair where she sat to the other tasteful accoutrements. She
wouldn’t expect less from a man of such genius and talent.
    “Now,
Mrs. Donato, let me be up front. The position I’m offering involves an extreme
amount of risk, but the benefits far outweigh them.”
    That
didn’t bode well. She held back a frown of disappointment. He had to know from
their previous conversation, plus her résumé, her qualifications lay in the
areas of office work, such as receptionist or administrative assistant. Why
mention something else?  
    “What
kind of