Entitled . HS

FIVE.

After a wonderful weekend, Monday morning hit hard. Dillon got home late last night from a supposed 'study session' with friends, but this morning I saw that she had newly minted hickeys all down her neck. I really couldn't add her teenage sexual activities into the things I have to deal with this week. For now, I left her a note with my concealer and told her to cover them up before dad or Levi saw them. I also told her that I expected a full explanation later.

I was leaving much earlier this morning than usual because Hannah invited me as a guest to her Pilates class. I knew they didn't do 'guests', so what she meant was that she'd pay for me if I agreed to come with her and do Pilates once a week, so she didn't have to go alone. I was not a Pilates girl, or even a work out girl, really. I tried once to be a running girl, but I didn't exactly grow up in a neighborhood where people ran for fun. That was more of a Manhattan thing.

I got to the studio a few minutes before Hannah, so I could people watch. When it started to get busy, I decided that I should go and check us in. As I was checking in, I saw a few people I recognized from somewhere, but I couldn't quite place from where. It wasn't until Hannah showed up, and greeted the women with a hug, that I realized they were Lane's (Declan's girlfriends) friends.

"It's so nice to see you again. I didn't know you took the 6 am class on Monday's?" One of the women I remembered now as Harris' side whore said, showing fake interest in what Hannah had for a reply. Instead of giving her full attention to Hannah's response, she was scoping out the people coming in the door to see if there was anyone better to mingle with before the class started. Then, she checked back into the conversation rather abruptly. "Oh, wait. Aren't you Harris' new assistant?" she asked me.

"I'm his assistant editor, yes."

"Lucky girl. That man is so yummy."

I made sure to give her the stare that I reserve for those who truly annoy the crap out of me. "Well, he's my boss, so I don't see him as anything other than the person who I have to answer to in order to get a paycheck."

"If he were my boss I'd be doing all I could to earn overtime." She said suggestively and it made me want to vomit.

"He's not even close to my type. So, have at him," I said, playfully, as I left the conversation and chose a machine on the opposite side of the room from hers. "God she's so desperate," I said as I looked back at her. "I knew I remembered that face from somewhere. Honestly. What do people see in him?"

"They ONLY see him. They don't bother to speak to him before they try and take him home," Hannah says, which actually made sense. He was good looking, I'd give her that much. That is UNTIL he opened his mouth and his shitty attitude came shining through.

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We finished the class and walked the block to Hannah and Guin's so we could shower and get ready for another day at Sinclair. We finished getting ready at about the same time and even though we'd been busy all morning, we still ended up walking into the office twenty minutes early.

Once I was seated at my desk, I pulled out my laptop and opened my inbox to 103 unread emails from the time I logged off on Friday afternoon to this morning. Happy Monday to Me. I spent most of my morning trying to get through the requests in my inbox while waiting for Harris to show. When he finally did show up, a little after ten, he was wearing thick-rimmed black sunglasses over his eyes inside and his hair was a disheveled mess. That combination of things could only mean one thing; he had a rough night, or maybe even a rough weekend.

"Miss Tate," he commented as he walked by my desk to open his office door. "I trust you enjoyed the freedom you had this morning to get caught up?"

What the hell was he asking? Did I like that he didn't bark my name until now. Ab-so-fucking-lutely I did. "I almost got all the emails answered. Yes."