Except for Carter walking in the door right as she set her fingers to the keys. She did all but groan as he gave her that toothy grin of his and then entered his office. It was almost as if he knew that she’d be there, not wanting him to be there. She had a firm belief that Carter lived to annoy her like that and flirt with her workers. He was so childish, and yet there was something that kept her from full on hating him. Maybe it was the fact that he was willing to work for her for such little pay as he got.
He went in his office and she set back to work and began to madly type the keys, slamming them down like she did on the typewriter. Her fingers moved at an inconceivable speed, as did her mind. She at least liked the subject of history. It wasn’t as pleasant to her as literature and things like that, but she was thankful that she wasn’t writing some article about factoring polynomials. She groaned at the very thought of math, but history certainly wasn’t as bad. She enjoyed writing about it, but she truly wanted to work for a literary publication that would feature her fictional work. She would, of course, use a pen-name, known in the more scientific world as a pseudonym. She wasn’t sure why, but she was scared to show anyone the writing she did at home. She knew she wasn’t terribly bad, but lingered on the inkling of the fact that she wasn’t good enough. She thought too that her stories were mediocre and boring. She wouldn’t admit it, but the projects she let Diedre read were very well received. Her best friend tried to tell her to submit something sometime, but she always refused. She was ashamed of herself for smothering her dreams like that, but it was part of her nature to feel insecure and inferior, despite her job title.
In no time, she was done. It was only two pages. She spent thirty minutes, reading it and re-reading it, making some minor changes here and there but overall not doing much to alter it. She printed it out and laid it on the desk of the person who arranged the visual effects of the magazine, including the text pieces. She rolled her eyes as she put it down, seeing very little work having been turned in. She found that her journalists liked to procrastinate. But they always seemed to get everything turned in. History Alive! was given superb ratings in the end, which Lucy was very thankful for. She loved her staff, even if they did get on her ever-loving nerve once in a while.
She didn’t know what to do now. She had planned on taking that article more slowly, but for some reason, the fact that Carter had come in pushed her into finishing it as soon as she could. She hadn’t made any plans for that day, so she had nothing to do besides be at the office. The only problem was, she had nothing to do at the office either. She decided to go talk to Carter.
She really didn't understand why she was doing this. She really did loathe him. He was a womanizer, an arrogant p****, and had no admirable qualities that she could see, aside from his reliable work ethic. If it wasn't for the latter, he would be long gone and fired from her magazine. But he was the most consistent employee aside from herself, so she had to keep him around.
She put on her shoes and grabbed her purse. She could hear his obnoxious voice from her office, but she just rolled her eyes. She was used to it, as it happened all throughout every day. She rarely said anything, knowing that he had to do what he had to do to keep the magazine's finances in check, loud voice included.
Her shoes clicked as she walked and stopped in front of the door that bore his nameplate and knocked. the same voice that had been talking so loudly on the phone now permitted her into his office.
"Oh, hello Lucy...what a pleasant surprise. you're looking extra-lovely this morning. Did you fix up especially for me, in hopes that I'd be here?" he looked at her with that same flirty look that he gave basically every girl he met. She remembered once when he, Dierdre, and herself went out for lunch, and Carter hit on the waitress. She, like many, took the bait.
"Save it for a girl with lower standards, Carter. What are you up to?"
He laughed and straightened up some papers on his desk. "How nice of you to be so interested in my current activities, Lucy. You might as well follow my Twitter if you haven't already. I'm just taking care of some financial transactions. Isn't that my job?" Carter smiled at her and spun around in his chair. She was very pretty, he knew. She was one of the prettiest girls he'd ever seen. Ironically, she was one of the only girls who never paid him any mind. He, strangely, regretted that. Regardless, he kept at it.
"For your information, Mr. Brooks, I don't have a Twitter and yes, that is your job. And if I see you slacking at it, even once, you'll be out of here before you can hit on another waitress ever again. So, keep up the good work and keep the harassment to a minimum." He chuckled and saluted her in the most sarcastic manner, as though he were a private saluting the highest of generals. She rolled her eyes once again and got up to leave his office. He waved at her and she just turned and walked.
He wanted to see if she wanted to go for lunch, but he already knew the answer. he hated that his reputation cause such a bad relationship between he and Lucy. He hated the condescending looks she gave him, the constant eye-rolls and snappy remarks. She was actually an interesting girl. More than just a pretty face. he admired how dedicated and passionate she was. he admired her morals and high standards in life. He secretly wished every girl could be like that- disciplined, not-so-easy, intelligent, and self-respectful. But he couldn't let that show. he had worked too hard for his player image. But was it really worth it? Was having seven girlfriends that he didn't really like any better than just having one that he absolutely adored? He wasn't sure, and he wasn't sure if he was quite ready to find out.