Sex And Writing|| 18+ [{Completed}]

11

"Can I help you?" Her voice cut me like a knife, her eyes no longer looking frazzled staring into me with such an attitude. On second thought, she fits in perfectly. 

"I have a meeting at 10 with Reese," I said in a small voice, feeling 3 foot tall in her presence. 

She grumbled a bit, clicking on the computer, checking her schedule. 

"Miss Meyers?" She asked and I nodded. A sudden realization coming across her face. Her jaw-dropping a bit and a red tint staining her cheeks. 

"I am so sorry, Miss Meyers. She's waiting for you, just knock." I raised an eyebrow at her reaction but shrugged it off. 

"Mercy," I didn't have to knock on the door when I turned around, she was already there waiting for me. A hint of excitement sparkling in her eyes. She couldn't tear them away from the Manila envelope secured in my hands. 

I sat on the edge of my seat. Thoughts running through my head like a tornado, whirling all rational thoughts out the door. 

"New intern?" I gave a small nervous laugh, trying to break the ice gently. 

Reese sat at her desk, unfazed by my nervous demeanor. She reached out her hand, curling her fingers in a greedy "gimme" motion. 

"Wow," she shook her head, flipping through the marked pages and a giant smile spread across her face. "My God, you actually did it." She sounded impressed with me, squaring her shoulders up. 

"80 pages?" She questioned, her glasses slipping to the end of her nose. 

"I had a little extra time," I said meekly, scooting in my chair. Fingers fidgeting with the end of my pencil skirt.

Reese laughed softly, putting the pages back into the envelope. "Here are your things. I emptied your desk to make room for Margret out there." She pointed in disgust at the girl outside of her office. Always disappointed in the new talent sent her way. 

"Oh--thanks," I said taking the stereotypical brown box full of my office supplies. I stared at them with a long face. Overthinking the situation again, it should be my specialty by now. Are there any specific careers for overthinkers? I'd make the perfect candidate. 

"You've impressed me, Meyers. For an intern--you sure as hell impressed me." Reese wasn't one to give compliments so willingly, so she must have been thoroughly impressed with me. Which boosted my very low confidence. She pushed a single white piece of paper across her desk and set a pen on top of it with force. 

"Your new contract," my heart beat rapidly inside my chest. My fingers fumbling with the pen. 

"I'm-I'm still working here then?" I stumbled over my words, unable to get them out fast enough. She rolled her eyes at me in frustrated Reese fashion and just laughed. And laughed--and laughed-- as if I were the world's funniest jester sent here to entertain her. 

"You think I'd let the girl go who got C.J. Cole to write again?" She asked, slamming a hand onto her desk with conviction. 

I quickly signed the paper. Feeling on top of the world again like a superhero on top of a skyscraper looking down on the crowds below. I did it. I actually did it for once! The anxiety, the worry, and anything else my asshole brain had concocted was gone. Poof! Evaporated. 

And not for the fact that I still had a job, no. For the fact, C.J. and I still had a shot--with work of course. Yeah--work.

"You have 6 months. I need 20 edited pages a week or more. Just like these." She said pointing to the first set I had turned in. I nodded in compliance. No arguments from me."You will bring them to me every Friday, at 5 o'clock sharp. I will have a second team looking over these in hopes we can get this done once and for all." She sighed looking over my contract.