Good Intentions| Editing

One

-edited-

"Shit! Shit, shit, shit, shit!" I say running into the office building. Not to mention I was in heels and carrying two very full cups of coffee.

I was late for work since my electricity went out and messed up my alarm clock. And to top it all off, my supervisor was exceedingly mean and the worst boss of all time. Apparently, my the CEO was coming in today to meet with us, and I had to take notes for my boss. I'm not very excited. It had been the worst morning, and I didn't feel like listening to anyone today.

Fucking electricity.

"Hold it please!" I yell to the man in the elevator. But just when I arrive the door closes. People are so cruel.

I run to the staircase and start to regret all my choices in life. Why did I apply to work here of all places? Why did I want to work with a bunch of bitches? Why didn't I take that exercise class? I was sweating like a dog when I reach the twentieth floor. Setting the coffee down on the steps, I wipe my wet face off with a napkin and try to fix my hair. Calling it good I walk into the office. People give me weird glances as I pass by, but I try to ignore them. Just before I knock on the door to my boss's office, I check the clock. Fifteen minutes late.

"Son of a bitch," I mutter under my breath and bang on the door with my elbow since my hands were full.

"Come in." I hear my boss grumble.

I open the door with my elbow and slowly make my way in. "I'm so sorry I'm late Mr. Frederick. There were traffic problems sir." I lie easily. After lying to my parents all of my teenage years, you become an expert.

Instead of yelling at me, he just simply says, "You got lucky today, Miss Kirking." He glances up and notices the two cups of coffee I have. "Why do you have two cups of coffee?"

"Uhh, I got some for your boss for an apology for being late." I manage to make up on the spot. In actuality, I got two because I was scared I was going to spill one of them. Being as clumsy as I am, it was easy to learn that you should always have backup. 

A rare smile appears on his face. "Good thinking. But Mr. Styles is later than you; he had some troubles at his office, so he should be in a great mood. I bet he'll need the caffeine," Mr. Frederick says sarcastically. He snorts and sifts through some papers on his desk. He picks up what he needs and hands them to me. 

Fucking great. Work. 

" He should be here soon. Go fax these. I'll call you in when I'm ready,"he orders and waves me off to do something productive. 

I've been Mr. Frederick's assistant for the past three months or so. I didn't want to be a PA forever. I wanted to do better things with my life other than serving someone else's every need and being treated like shit in the process. Normal twenty-two year olds would be in college partying with their long term boyfriends. But here I was. At a job I hated, living on frozen dinners, Netflix. and the only friend I had was my pet fish, Spaghetti.

Walking to my desk, I drop my bag and coat off, then head to the fax machine. I put the paper in the thing and press start. But the paper wouldn't move. It always happens to me, I think sourly while closing my eyes. I needed this done. It would show Mr. Frederick that I'm not horrible. Over the few months I've been working, I think he got the impression that I was incompetent and dumb. And I couldn't let that be my reputation. So I do the only thing I can think of to make it work.

I slam my hand down on the side of the machine hard. Suddenly the fax goes through. My hands fling up in the air with joy. "It's about damn time something goes right."