Chapter 67: SOFIA
My feet kept tapping arrhythmically and I bit on my index as the cab I had boarded to the East side of town sped towards my destination.
We had been trapped in Dorsal bridge for almost an hour, and the sweeping winds now did nothing for the beads of perspiration on my forehead. Or the wetness of my pits.
I was already late, not that I booked an appointment, but having worked with Anna Wintour, I knew the mood she would be in now.
The best time to approach her and get positive outcomes was when she just came in. When she’s still oblivious to the errs and mishaps of her staff.
I was supposed to be there by 9am, and now it’s 10:23, meaning it has been an hour and 3 minutes she’s been in. Anna was always punctual, or at least as punctual as expected of the Editor-in-Chief.
She always came in by 9:20 am or earlier, but never later. And knowing her, an hour and some minutes was more than enough for her entire demeanor to change and it’s rarely for the better.
"Perhaps things have changed. Or Anna has changed." My mind tried to console me, but I couldn’t be consoled.
A man’s job was hanging on my shoulders and I fear I’ve lost already. When Anna is in her tantrums, be you who, she doesn’t care, a no will be all you’d be getting.
I doubt she would even want to see me, seeing that I didn’t book an appointment, talk more of listening to me or agreeing to my request.
"Here we are, Miss" the middle aged cab driver announced as the car screeched to a halt.
Handing him his fee, I alighted from the car.
Cars, that of employees and distribution vans with Bogue logo, lined both sides of the sidewalk and I had to walk from where the cab dropped me to the main building.