Chapter Text
"Are you certain that is how you want to hold this meeting?" Eloise asked with a judgmental hint to her tone. (She had never been a big fan of how she dressed herself.)
Francesca took one look at herself in the mirror and felt the need to roll her eyes. She didn't, she never did, but she was hoping her sister could hear it in her tone.
"I am. And you" she said pointing at her sister's ice cream "you should not be eating that while being sick enough to miss out on something like this"
"Perhaps I'm just playing sick to leave you, my dear favorite sister, this wonderful chance" she said in a sarcastic tone before shoving another spoonful of strawberry ice cream into her mouth.
Francesca left after that. Who was she to try to tell a grown woman how to work through her cold?
Francesca had heard a lot of things about this company so far. Most of which had been pretty neutral or rather good.
One of those pretty neutral things was that the woman she was about to interview mostly employed women.
Which lead to her current state of questioning if she was actually happy with her appearance.
The employees were stunning. All wearing expensive looking clothes that did make her seem quite unprofessional. She wasn't wearing anything too bad, but apparently a cardigan was not the best choice for today.
Another part that made her quite uncomfortable was the amount of talking these women did.
If it had been Eloise she probably would've enjoyed chatting with them, but Francesca was still working through every single step she would take in this interview and didn't need all of this distraction.
"Just follow the red arrows and they should lead you to the elevator" the woman pointed to the path that was occasionally painted by small, red arrows. Finally. She saw them immediately.
They were similar to the ones you may see in hospitals. Just a lot smaller. Small enough to fit into this otherwise pretty bright, white estate.
Follow the red arrows.
The red arrows.
The red ones.
She wasn't nervous. She really wasn't it was just that…
Francesca wasn't very fond of doing interviews. She struggled with all parts of it. Identifying tone, posture, getting to the emotional foundation simply by looking at someone.
So while she loved putting words to paper she preferred to leave the source gathering to the others.
That was also the reason why she wasn't too happy about this new solo assignment. She enjoyed her studies and was closer to her goal than ever, but one of her new tasks is conducting interviews which made her question if she should rethink her life decisions.
This particular interview was different. Eloise, her sister and roommate, had gotten the incredible opportunity but had fallen sick. So Francesca, in hopes for extra credit, asked if she could do it instead.
The sound of the elevator doors closing ripped her from her thoughts.
Then she heard somebody yell for her to keep them open.
She reached out for the button out of pure politeness — sadly they arrived on time. Panting, a man entered leaving significantly less space for her.
"Hey! Thanks." he grunted with a kind smile.
She almost felt bad for wishing he wouldn't make it.
"Yeah, no problem" she really hoped that was the end of the conversation.
"Are you new here? I don't think I've ever seen you around before?"
Great, another chatty one. The receptionist had already held her up to the point she was worried that she'd be late.
"No, I'm just here for an interview for my paper" she answered hoping it wasn't too dismissive to seem rude but dismissive enough to end the conversation.
"Oh? Who is the interview with? Maybe I can give you some advice how to get through to them?"
Why did her floor have to be the last?
She bit her lip — a nervous tick she did that helped her clear her head — and considered his point for a second, after deciding that she didn't need his help she answered anyway.
"Ms Stirling" she gave him a tight smile.
"Oh" he said pushing out air that made an uncomfortable whistle noise "Well, good luck with that."
The elevator doors opened for the third time and he started to leave.
"I'm Chris by the way" he said giving her another smile that seemed more forced than the first before turning his back to her to leave.
Thank god that was over. He wasn't too unpleasant of a company. He didn't smell too bad and he didn't make any approaches to get to know her. She still preferred the silence.
After another 5 floors she finally arrived.
She looked at herself in the large mirror that was located on the back of the elevator to make sure her outfit sat properly and sighed.
The doors opened and she was met with another receptionist.
"Good morning ms Bridgerton" the woman greeted her in a very welcoming manner.
Francesca was surprised about how talkative and nice everyone seemed. She had expected them to be a lot more…. serious.
"Good morning. I'm here for my appointment with ms Stirling" she answered trying to mirror the friendly smile.
The woman nodded and started to show her the way to what she hoped was the office.
She lead her down a long, rather monotone hall with glass fronts, the sun shining through them making the faces of the employees who were sitting at their desks rather hard to recognize. Some seemed more eager to be doing their job while some just seemed to be texting.
With every step Francesca's hands tightened around her clipboard and pen. She was biting her lip again, was that blood she was tasting?
She read through her notes a couples of times.
She had written down the exact steps how this is gonna go and how to approach this woman. She read articles, watched videos and tried to observe to the best of her abilities.
She didn't want to be caught off guard at all today and leave a good impression. This could be the thing to get her the extra credit and to interview the CEO more often would guarantee her the stability and respect she needed in this field.
They reached the end of the hall.
"This would be it. Ms Stirling is already expecting you." the woman with black hair and a rather well contrasting suit dismissed her.
A quick thanks and Francesca was once again completely absorbed by her thoughts.
This was it. She wasn't allowed to make a single mistake or she would blow it….
Taking a final breath she reached out for the door handle. It was the only room that wasn't see through and the handle was made out of metal that felt cold and rather grounding in Francesca's uncommonly sweaty hands.
She closed her eyes, let out her breath and pushed.
She couldn't remember the next few things properly. It all happened way too fast.
She remembers opening the door and falling. She fell. What person enters the most important appointment of their life by quite literally falling into it?
Apparently Francesca Bridgerton did. She couldn't even feel the pain, embarrassment overtaking her completely. She could feel her face redden even faster than her hands did from catching herself.
Her clipboard and pen made a loud noise when they hit the floor, thankfully overpowering the pathetic noise she let out when she hit the hard surface along with them.
After a few seconds of hoping that the damn floor just absorbed her she came to the conclusion that the only thing that's worse than falling was staying there. So she made the brave decision to at least stand up as gracefully as possible.
She got on her hands and knees to gather all of her things and made yet another mistake, because when Francesca looked up she froze completely.
There she was. Michaela Stirling. One of the most successful CEOs in the entirety of the USA today.
Francesca didn't really care about that. She knew her status, money, about her companies,… What she had underestimated, however, was how the woman would look in person.
It wasn't just her dark hair that complimented her eyes,or how the shape of her jaw and nose might've as well ben crafted by the gods… No, it was also the way she carried herself. Given Francesca had only seen her for about 5 seconds so far thanks to her fall.
Wait. The floor. She was still on the floor. Rather clumsily she found herself standing. She could feel her face heat up further and hoped it came off as embarrassment.
But the second Francesca's eyes met the other woman she was completely absorbed once again.
The way her hair settled on her shoulders, the way her eyes reflected the sun, and her lips that were moving in-
Wait. Why was she staring at her lips? And they were moving?
The woman was talking. To Francesca.
She forced herself to snap out of it.
"… I'm Michaela Stirling, it's nice to meet you."
"Yes. Yes, as it is you." she tried to save herself and worked through the rasp of her voice, "I'm Francesca."
It all seemed pretty awkward even to herself, especially with how much she was avoiding the rather short woman's eyes.
"Right. I hope you didn't face too many difficulties on your way here miss….?" Her voice got higher at the end implying she was trying to figure out what to call Francesca.
"Oh right, Bridgerton. Bridgerton is my name." she almost managed to answer without tripping over her words this time. Progress.
Michaela nodded and made an inviting hand gesture and Francesca stepped further into her office until she reached the desk.
"We're happy to have you here!" she stretching out her arm for Francesca to take.