The early December wind bit bitterly at Noel's nose. The city life bustled by, crowds of businessmen and tourists clamored by. The air was filled with the honking of horns and the natural chaos that the city entailed.
The classified section of the Denver Post was folded in Noel's lap; red circles colored the page, a red marker was clenched loosely in her teeth,
Wanted: Secretary
Hard worker, long hours,
Requested leave allowed
Pancetti Inc.
Walk-ins 1260 Crichton Street
Noel glanced at her watch, a small gold face her grandmother gave to her before she died. It was one o'clock she was on Dane Ave; shoe could take a bus to Crichton and be there by two.
With the final decision made, Noel shoved the folded newspaper into the folder next to her and walked briskly down the street to the nearest bus stop. The wind whipped around her legs clad in sheer tights, her knee length pencil skirt did nothing to stave off the cold. She pulled her button up red jacket tighter around her.
An old woman carrying a load of bags sat down next to Noel with a huff. She smiled gently at the elderly woman, who smiled back.
"Hello Deary, ready for Christmas?" Noel nodded shortly, giving the woman a tight smile.
"Yes Ma'am, I hope to go up to the mountains for the holidays. May I ask what you are doing?" Noel asked kindly, hoping to divert the attention away from herself.
"Yes, I am going to spend the holidays with my daughter and her family. She as two young twin daughters and a one year old boy, what a rambunctious bunch." The old woman began spinning her detailed plans for the holidays and Noel listened patiently, nodding and adding comments when need be.
The bus ambled up over the hill, the exhaust a billowing cloud in the frosty morning air. Its breaks screeched as it rumbled to a halt in front of them.
The elder woman struggled to gather all the bags, Noel reached for some, "here let me help you with those."
The woman's face lit up, "why thank you young lady." Noel helped the woman climb onto the bus and sat down in a flurry of overstuffed shopping bags, waiting patiently for hers top to come.
Noel stepped off the bus, her eyes trailed up the building to the top that towered into the heavens. With a deep breath, she stepped through the revolving doors into a massive lobby. Noel walked up to the receptionist's desk, her heels clicking on the granite floor.
"Excuse me; I'm here for an interview for the secretary job." The receptionist was an elderly woman with snowy hair and kind smile.
"What is your name dear?" her voice was warm.
"Noel Daniels." Her fingers swiftly typed in her name, then nodded her head.
"Go have a seat; someone will call your name." Noel thanked the receptionist and sat silently in the cushioned chairs, her ankles crossed.
Her pulse drummed nervously, she hadn't had an interview in three years, and she hoped it went well. Fifteen minutes passed and Noel was gradually becoming more nervous.
"Noel Daniels." A clear voice rang out across the lobby.
"Yes?" Noel questioned, silently hitting herself for the unneeded inquiry.
"Mr. Pancetti will see you now." Noel swallowed nervously, she was under the impression an assistant would be interviewing her.
'Head up, back straight. Keys to confidence' her dad's voice mentally reprimanded her; a memory she would never forget. Her résumé folder in hand she walked confidently into her potential boss's office.
The office was an understatement of spacious; it was open, with cherry wood floors, and massive windows overlooking Denver. A wide desk stood at the far end, the back of a high-backed brown leather chair face us.
"Ms. Daniels have a seat, I'll be with you in one moment." A hard voice coolly stated from the chair. Slightly startled at how young the voice sounded Noel's nervousness thrummed through her veins. Crossing her ankles once more, her back straight, she gripped the folder in her lap.
The chair spun around, Noel gripped the folder tighter, and she could not help her surprise. Her previous image of Mr. Pancetti being a wizened old man completely diminished. Mr. Pancetti was definitely not old; he was young perhaps twenty-five.
His hair was an icy white blonde, tied back at the nape of his neck. His eyes were a pale hard green, "your resume Ms. Daniels." Noel quickly flipped through her folder and pulled out the sheet of paper; she swiftly handed it over to him.
As he scanned Noel's resume, she took the time to look at him more closely. His jaw was strong, his nose aristocratic, and his lips full. He was nothing short of handsome, he looked up at her and she noticed how hard his eyes were.
"I see here you quit your last job after two years, may I ask why?" his was hard even when inquiring.
Noel stiffened, "there were some undesired attentions between my former boss and myself. It was in my best interests to leave."
Mr. Pancetti nodded silently, "thank you for interviewing for the job as my secretary, someone should be getting back to you in a day or two."
Noel stood, "thank you for this opportunity sir." Mr. Pancetti shook her outstretched hand. Noel walked to the door, as soon as her pump was out the door, relief poured through her. Nodding at the receptionist Noel left the Pancetti building.
The wind bit furiously at her, she tugged on her black pleather gloves and pulled her coat tight around her. She realized that her apartment was close enough to walk; she shoved her hands in her pockets.
As she wove her way through the crowds of people, she nodded when nodded to and threw some pennies in the Salvation Army buckets, "Merry Christmas" she smiled as she said it to the working Santa.
Opening the door to her apartment Noel kicked off her pumps and placed her purse on the table. Her stomach growled, echoing in the silent apartment. "First some music" she said to the emptiness, flipping on the TV she went to the channel playing classics; Michael Buble's smooth voice crooned out The Way You Look Tonight.
Noel swayed to the soft lull of the music, she danced into the kitchen. Humming she pulled out ingredients to make Chicken Alfredo. As she was filling a pot with water her phone rang, checking the caller ID; Noel saw it was her friend Megan,
"City Morgue, you stab 'em we slab 'em." She sang into the phone.
"You are disturbing." Megan snorted out, "snow how'd you job shopping go?" Noel cut the plastic off the chicken breasts. Anticipating Megan's arrival as usual, Noel began searing two chicken breasts.
"Well I interviewed at Pancetti Inc.," she muttered.
Megan swiftly interrupted her, "Did you see Nicholas Pancetti?" the excitement was unnerving.
Noel paused in the midst of mixing, garlic, olive oil, butter, and heavy cream into a bowl, "who? Oh, you mean Mr. Pancetti. He was my interviewer, hard man."
She resumed her mixing, "I'm coming over," the dial tone ensued; Noel chuckled and turned the chicken. About five minutes later, Megan came flying into her kitchen, her coffee colored curls in disarray, chocolate eyes curious.
"Tell me everything." She pleaded, throwing herself into the chair. Megan was an enigma, a bubbly twenty-two year old she found the simplest things amusing, her job however did not fit her; Megan was a medical examiner. The dark melancholy job did not fit her exuberant friend at all but she loved it.
"What is there to tell? He interviewed me, sent me on my way, and told me someone would contact me. All formalities." Noel was now chopping the chicken and pouring the pasta in the now boiling water.
Megan sighed dramatically, "No not about that, was he sexy?"
Noel shrugged, "he was handsome. Yes, more like an ice prince than anything." Noel was now stirring the chicken into the sauce.
Megan placed a hand to her heart, "what I would give to melt that ice."
Noel laughed, "of course you would, dinner is served mademoiselle DuPont." She placed a bowl of Chicken Alfredo in front of her.
"Noel you are the best." She chewed some of the pasta, "this is delicious, who's recipe?"
Noel sipped some water before answering, "Mine of course." They ate casually conversing on how their lives were going.
"So how's David doing?" Megan's boyfriend of two years was close to proposing, Noel would bet on it,