More Issues Than Vogue | ✔️

Chapter 4

"It's good to finally meet you, I've been very excited in preparing all the work we'll be doing together," She squeezed my shoulders. Once we broke out of the embrace, she tapped the white desk behind her. "This is your desk - decorate it however you want. We've got pens, notebooks, and any other office supplies you need in a closet down the first hallway. If you want to add pictures or cute little knick knacks, be my guest!"

She walked over to her desk, which was very...cluttered. I admit, my obsession with cleanliness got the best of me and I restricted the urge to organize and rearrange every corner of space she had. There were piles of paper work, files, and photographs cramped in a corner next to her sleek desktop. On the wall closest to her desk were different colored and printed Band-Aids in all shapes and forms. The rest of her desk was covered with picture frames, desk organizers, and even some make up. I'm not going to judge Sarah based off of a messy desk. I wanted so badly to clean it up.

She giggled at me. "Clearly, I'm the poster child for decorated desks."

"I love it!" I said to her, meaning it. Through my years of living with a roommate, I've come to terms with the fact that I'm probably the most anal person when it comes to organization and patronizing anyone who wasn't didn't make me a likable person. I learned my lesson after being scolded for getting caught trying to clean my roommates' side of the room numerous times. I have accepted to respect peoples' personal space. Working with someone who failed to prove themselves as neat as me is something I have to get used too.

"Also," She narrowed her eyes at me while I watched her eyes look me up and down, "You can dress up a little bit more...chic. Have fun with your outfits! We work for a magazine not a law firm."

My smile slightly faded. She laughed which indicated that she meant no harm in her comment but I didn't feel any less embarrassed. "Sorry, I guess I'm used to dressing up more professionally. This is my first internship and I want to make a good impression."

She waved a hand at me. "It's alright hon, I totally get it. My first day here I wore a black knee length dress with sleeves and a collar. People thought I just came back from a funeral!"

We both laughed before she said, "Feel free to dress comfortably yet stylish, but no jeans or active wear. And if I catch you in Crocs, you might as well turn in your two week notice."

I laughed more, admiring the fact that my manager was genuinely a humorous person. I also tried to save myself by asking, "Duly noted. So, what are we going to work on today?"

She smiled slyly. "Well, aren't you the worker bee? Straight to the point, I like that. It shows me your drive."

I practically glowed at this. "Thank you very much."

"We can start with your intro," She gestured to the seat behind my new white desk and I sat down, laying out my files on the table. "Show me what you got."

I squealed excitedly because I was ready to get some feedback on this piece. It was like turning in the official document of my years in college to my new life in adulthood. Liberating - that's how I would describe handing Sarah my two page piece.

"San Francisco huh? I love that city! You've come a long way hon," She seemed impressed. "I'm from Los Angeles myself, we're basically neighbors!"

Staring at this bombshell, she did seem as if she had walked right out of Hollywood. At first glance, Sarah wouldn't strike you to be a top-notch journalist for a magazine. A celebrity, hell maybe even a model, would be a suitable career to categorize her under. That made her all the more intimidating. Beauty and brains. My legs shook nervously as I watched her eyes scan the pages. Her face was expressionless, only her perfectly arched eyebrows raising and furrowing here and there. Her lips were pursed the entire time and once she read the last line, she set the papers down and stared at me, still emotionless.