1 A Love-Hate Relationship

 

 

When had she ever thought that being a journalist would be a good idea? She'd been working for Music Inc. for 6 months; she went to gigs and interviewed up and coming bands. It was hard to believe, but it was starting to get boring. How was that even possible? She met a large group of people so diverse that she'd probably have to check to see if they were even human. Some of these groups adopted personas, and they didn't come out of character for anyone.

Then there was her boss, James Berwick. He cut so many lines out of her copy she was starting to think he just liked using the red pen. From her cubicle, she could see his office. The tall, dark haired man was such a huge pain in her ass. It didn't help that he was good looking, because whenever she was around him, she got flustered. Somebody that sexy shouldn't be working as an editor at a music magazine. He should be on the papers advertised as a sex god with a mike.

"Are you daydreaming again?"

Georgina smiled at Keith over her shoulder. He mostly worked in the reviews department. He was handsome, too, but in a rather straight-laced kind of way; he'd once told her that he had met his fiancée at one of the gigs. Georgina had never met her, but it did evoke an interesting image. Keith dressed in a suit, and his soon-to-be wife wore God knows what. People had said that they were an odd pair, but Georgina already knew that they were happy. Keith never complained, and he always got this goofy look on his face whenever he talked about her.

"I was just wondering if I could kill James and get away with it." It wasn't a complete lie. Georgina had just received his latest revision on her article about a heavy rock band that was making the circuit. She handed the sheet of paper to Keith and he looked over it.

"Well, don't kill me, but he's right. You're a good writer, George, but some of this can be described as fluff. I think that you'd be ideally suited to features."

She nearly growled in frustration. "He's never going to let me write features. I'm starting to wonder if there's any point in staying here."

Her friend looked shocked. "You don't mean that."

She couldn't help the tired sigh that slipped from her lips. "I think I do. Come on, I think it's time for the weekly meeting. James is starting to pace in his office again."

Keith left her; there was no mistaking the worried look on his face. Georgina did her best to ignore it as she collected her pieces of paper. She'd already finished writing up the revisions and she'd emailed it to James's computer. She'd always wanted to be a writer; she knew that this opportunity was something people her age would kill for.

She finished collecting her things and headed off to James' office. It was time for the job assignments for the weekend.

Georgina didn't bother to rush; it hadn't been that long ago that she'd been the first person in the office. This writing job was her first, and she'd been eager to impress. For the last few weeks, she'd kept to the back of the small offices. She stayed quiet, didn't ask questions. This job was supposed to be fun, but it hadn't been for a long time.

She waited until a few of the other writers had gotten seated and then joined them. James was busy at his desk; it was always clean, and his secretary Lynda made sure that all the papers were filed away. Georgina was sure that without Lynda he'd be drowning under paper. He was dressed in his usual suit; she never saw him in anything vaguely casusal. He was tall, and the suit was incredibly well-fitted in a dark shade that caught the color in his eyes. The tie was the same shade as the suit, but it had been loosened at the neck; the top button of the white shirt was undone. The suit jacket had been hung up on the back of the door. From her seat at the back of the room, she was quite close to it, and the rich smell of his aftershave tickled at her nose.

Okay, she might hate him, but she wasn't dead from the waist down. He was good-looking, but the fact he was a complete asshole nine out of ten times kind of killed any attraction.

She half listened to the usual conversation; he talked sales and something about how he wanted to bring the company into the twenty-first century. When James then handed out the assignments, she started to pay closer attention. What in hell was he going to unleash on her today? Five articles on Greek throat music? Something she'd end up spending hours researching, only for him to unleash the red pen and then tell her that he doesn't need them after all.

The guy was an asshole.

She waited for a piece of white paper; everyone else had theirs, and she had nothing. James walked back to his desk. A few of the other journalists looked at her. Christ, was he going to fire her? He couldn't have just brought her into his office earlier, he had to humiliate her like this? She was tempted to chuck something at his head. She was sure that there was nothing in there to hurt, anyway. Everyone was starting to leave, and Georgina was tempted to join them. She might as well pack up her desk. She needed a stiff drink and a look at the job section of the paper.

She was just getting back to her feet when she heard James ask, "Georgina, can you stay for a second, please?"

There were a few looks of sympathy and she stopped in her steps. Well, it looked like she wouldn't just be able to leave without losing her temper.