“Hi, I’m Danielle” you introduce yourself to the middle aged woman sitting at the reception desk, “I’m starting work here today” you add as way of explanation for disturbing her from her work.
“Oh yes, Danielle,” she mumbles almost to herself as she rummages through some paper on her desk, finally pulling out a folder that she was obviously looking for, a folder that you see has your name plastered right across the centre, and the words “Work Placement” typed in bold letters underneath.
“This way Danielle” she calls as she stands from her desk and begins towards the door at the far side of the reception hall. You quickly follow her across the room, trying to remain calm, although the nerves running through you are making it difficult.
She holds the door for you and waves you inside, and as you pass you feel her hand rub against your back, but you ignore it, assuming it to be either accidental, or maybe she has sensed your nervousness and it is just a small gesture of support.
“Danielle is here” she speaks from behind you, and as you look up you realise that across the large room is sitting the man who will be your boss, the man who a few weeks ago was interviewing you.
”Thanks Sandra” he replies without looking up from the computer screen he is studying, his face full of concentration as he taps a pen against the screen as if this will help him make more sense of whatever he is looking at.
As the receptionist, who you now know is called Sandra, is about to leave she passes you your folder, then makes her way from the office, closing the door behind her.
You are left standing by the door, unsure whether you should speak, take a seat, or wait until he is ready.
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