Thirty Two Pt. II

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A/N: Alright, alright alright this is the last thing I can post for a while. So don't you even think about trying to guilt trip me here, people! It won't work....okay it might. It's really important for me to give you guys what you want, but it's also important to graduate so...

In case you missed the news, our new Poppy is Holland Roden. Another picture above because she's just too gorg.

XXXII: Change

I KNEW IT THE MOMENT I WALKED IN. My staff stood was awkwardly quiet, it was the type of silence that shushes a crowd when the person they were talking about walks by. Francis, my assistant, quickly ran over and handed me a notepad.

"Good afternoon! These are your messages." I swept my eyes down the list and nodded.

"Thanks Francis. Anything else?"

"Yes, actually! Human resources sent over someone else. I personally interviewed her and I think she's very promising. She graduated from Brooklyn College and has a bachelors in--"

"That's great, Francis. But you know I don't really care about credentials. Is she here?"

"Yes! Right over there." Francis dashed over to the girl and brought her forward. She was young, fresh out of college and bright eyed.

"Hi, what's your name?" I motioned for them to follow me. The girl seemed nervous enough I didn't want the entire staff listening to her.

"Allie Hayes." She said in a mousey voice.

"Nice to meet you, Allie." I extended my hand. "I'm Poppy."

She nodded, "It's such a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Richmond. I think what you're doing here is so amazing--"

I froze and I felt my smile slip off my face. Francis sprang to action and pulled Allie away. They were no longer in my earshot but I could tell Francis was giving her the lecture of the century. But I didn't intervene, I felt defeated already and it was barely noon.

Coming in midday to work had its advantages. For one, I missed the staff training because Francis can be pretty tough on them. And also, I got to hide out longer in the apartment. In the two weeks since I've gotten back to work, things have only gotten worse. So after appointing someone in my staff to keep an eye on the paparazzi, we've deducted that most of them take a break for lunch around 12:30-ish. It gave me the opportunity to sneak in through the back entrance and avoid their questions.

It also meant I got to miss the delivery boy.

Every day for the last two weeks since word got out I'd resurfaced, he's been sending me a dozen red velvet cupcakes. It always had a cryptic message. I made the mistake of reading the first.

You've ruined red velvet for me. It reminds me of your hair, and your lips.

Francis gingerly knocked on my door and I gestured for her to come inside. "I am so terribly sorry about that. Rest assured she's been severely disciplined and if you so wish, fired."

"Francis, it's alright. It was an honest mistake."

She signed and placed a small card on my desk. "Here's today's card."

I reached for it and tore it in half. "Go ahead and hand them out." Francis nodded, and excused herself to ask someone else to take the cupcakes to a homeless shelter a couple blocks away.

IT WAS NEARING CLOSING WHEN I RECEIVED A VISITOR. Wren tapped on my glass door and held up a hand in greeting.

In the past two weeks since I've hired Wren to make something for the opening, he's been dropping by often for a chat.

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