1

Today we were going to look round Stone Marketing. This was a pretty big deal. Stone Marketing was the most successful marketing company in London, and they looked after all the main contracts in the city.

I had no idea what I was going to wear. My fellow students often turned up to class in formal business attire, including pencil skirts and shirts for the girls and perfectly ironed suits for the boys. Most of my peers were from families with money though and often had grown up in London. I was a bit different. I came from a small seaside town in Devon. My uniform was jeans and hoodies. I certainly didn’t have enough money to buy expensive clothes just for going to uni.

In the end, I picked out the smartest pair of jeans I had. Deep blue boot-cut ones with a high waist. I was desperate to put a large dark grey hoodie over the top in order to hide my figure, but I knew I couldn’t get away with that in such an expensive environment. I forced myself to put on a white t-shirt I never wore, and the black blazer my mum had bought me before I left. As for shoes well…the choice was converse or Doc Martens. I went for the Doc Martens.

My dark hair was eternally a mess of curls that never wanted to conform with my attempts to tame it, so I scraped it back into my usual ponytail to keep it out of my face. I wasn’t really a make-up girl, only opting for a couple of swipes of my £1 mascara.

Checking my reflection was the last thing I wanted to do, but I had to check today. I glanced as quickly as possible, shuddering at the dumpy silhouette that appeared in the dirty mirror. I sighed heavily, and grabbed my backpack and headed out of my room.

I lived in the cheapest university halls going. Although as it was London, it was still damn expensive. After rent and books, I usually had very little student loan left over. To make matters worse, my room was tiny. There was only enough space for a single bed and a chest of draws. I had to share a kitchen and bathroom with four other people. It sucked. I reminded myself I had chosen to come to London. Although now I was here, I wasn’t sure why.

I made my way through the busy streets down to the tube station, making sure I didn’t bump into any of the bustling commuters. Thankfully I didn’t need to change tubes, as I was on the right line for the infamous Canary Wharf.

I’d been to look around Canary Wharf a few times, but I had to admit, I was excited to see what was inside one of those tall glass buildings. Checking the directions on my phone, I soon arrived outside the huge impressive building. It was spring, and the morning light made the glass panes sparkle with promise.

I spotted some other students from my course and begrudgingly made my way over. One of the girls, Emma, spotted me and whispered something to one of the others. I watched them smirk and knew it would have been nothing good. Probably some comment about what I was wearing. They were of course, flawlessly dressed. Emma herself was wearing a soft pink blazer with a form-fitting cream dress underneath that showed off her tiny waist. Her honey-coloured hair was perfectly quaffed into a high bun, and her make-up looked like it had been done by a professional artist. Nude heels adorned her feet and a designer handbag rested on her left shoulder.

I couldn’t be more opposite if I tried.

I hung at the back of the group while the rest of the students chatted excitedly together.

Our professor, Neil, appeared at the front of the group. “Right guys, I know I shouldn’t have to tell you, but remember. This is a big deal to be allowed inside here, so I want 100% professionalism and respect. I don’t need to remind you that if you make a good impression here, you may be lucky enough to be offered their internship.” He cast his eyes around the group, his gaze briefly landing on me. A brief flicker of disapproval crossed his face, but it was gone as soon as it appeared.

Neil ushered us into the building. The whole space was decorated with black and white monochrome. There was no doubt it looked sleek, but I also thought it felt a little cold. I reflected this probably suited its name, Stone Marketing.

A woman was waiting for us in the lobby. It turned out she looked, even more, immaculate than Emma. Something I never thought possible. She flashed us a wide smile, and I felt I needed sunglasses to shield my eyes from her whiter than white teeth.

“Welcome students.” Her voice was a little robotic. Like the automated ones, you got when you phoned your energy supplier. “My name is Melissa. I’m a manager in the communications department, and it is my pleasure to show you around today.”

Despite the computerised voice, she was a stunning woman. I could see the boys nudging each other and winking. Not exactly the professionalism or respect Neil had asked for.

We began our tour around some of the offices where the admin worked. It was pretty average, but I knew she would be building up. Then we were led to the social media department. That was definitely a notch up. They had large screens on all the walls with various platforms such as Facebook, Instagram and Twitter. Each showed how many interactions, comments and ‘likes’ the content was receiving.

Next, was the mock-up space.  The room was completely white, including all the furniture. This had examples of new ads they’d created for various different companies. The white made sense now, it was so each piece of work could be looked at on a blank canvas.

Some of the ads were on paper. Others were projected onto the wall, clearly being produced for a digital format.

“Please feel free to take a look around,” Melissa called out to us.

Most of it was unfinished work, but I was fascinated to see the process behind each campaign. Most of them looked incredible, and I noted the number of well-known companies that were featured. But then, something caught my eye. It was an ad for Blast sports drinks. Blast was a big name within the gym scene, often marketed to serious athletes and body-builders. But this ad…well it looked childish. The lettering was almost bubbly in appearance, and the pastel colours just didn’t seem to fit.

I called over to Melissa.

She glided over to me like a swan on a lake. “Yes…?”

“Rosie.” I provided for her.

She gave me a postcard smile. “How can I help?”

I suddenly felt a little awkward. Why on earth had I put myself in this position? I started to stammer a little. “I just…well…I mean…isn’t this a sports drinks company?”

A flash of amusement crossed her face. “Yes, that’s right.”

I bit my lip. Now I was here, I had to explain otherwise I’d look even more stupid.

“Don’t you think it’s a bit…well…childish? They’re meant to be a serious company, aren’t they?”

By this point, a few of my fellow students had begun to crowd around me. Clearly interested in how I was showing them up today.

The woman fort back to conceal a laugh. “Blast wished to go in a new direction. They want to appeal to gym novices as well as the serious types…but I will pass on your very astute comments to the department's manager.”

At this, those around us listening started to snigger. Even Neil looked like he wanted to put his head in his hands. My cheeks flushed. I really should have kept my mouth shut.

Just then, a deep powerful voice sounded from the back of the crowd. “See that you do pass on those comments, Melissa. I think the girl has a valid point.”

I turned to the source of the voice. Wow. Standing with a serious expression was a tall muscular man in his early 30’s. His dark hair and eyes made him look mysterious. Even a little dangerous. His sharp jawline was covered in dark stubble. The charcoal suit he was wearing looked crazy expensive, and I wondered what he did here to earn that kind of money.

Melissa’s face had paled a little, even though her perfect tan. “Yes Sir. Of course, Sir. I’ll do that right away.” Her calm exterior vanished as she scurried off.

The man’s eyes followed her for a second, and then to my discomfort, they snapped to me. I hurriedly looked away. I could barely hold eye contact with any man, let alone one as good looking as this.

He strode his way towards me, the crowd parting like the sea for Moses. Moments later, he was in front of me. He smelled delicious and expensive.

“What is your name?” I could not read his expression, but perhaps that was because I was too preoccupied with the depths of his dark eyes.

I did my best to look unintimidated, but my voice was quiet. “Rosie. Rosie Woods.”

“And you are a student at the University of London?”

I nodded. “Yes. My first year.”

He furrowed his brow and gazed at me from head to toe. I felt exposed. “Hmm.” There was an edge of disappointment in his voice, and he began to walk away. Then he paused and turned his head to the side slightly. “Come to my office tomorrow morning. 8am. Don’t be late.”

My heart leapt. Could this be the internship? Suddenly, I realised something. I called out hurriedly. “Excuse me Sir, I apologise, but I don’t know your name?”

Audible gasps and whispers shot up from my group. Now, even Neil did not resist shaking his head in disbelief. What had I done wrong?

The man turned, a smirk upon his face. The first change in expression I’d seen since our encounter had started.

“My name is Ezra Stone. I am the CEO of this company.”

Oh fuck.