“Violet, this is Blythe. She’ll be introducing you to Colton on Saturday night, and I’ve asked her to keep us in mind for the interview. Exclusively.” I can hear the underlying hint in Clarissa’s tone as she says this.
“Nice to meet you,” I say.
Blythe smiles at me. It’s not a friendly one, and she doesn’t seem overly excited to have to babysit me. The annoyance in her expression is evidence of that, but what she doesn’t know is that I’m a grown woman. I don’t need her to help me do my job.
“Yes,” she agrees, then settles on the chair, picking up a small espresso cup and sipping the sludge I know fills it.
“Well,” Clarissa begins, “I’d like to find out what you’d like us to do since you’ll have other media in attendance.” She meets Blythe’s cool stare before sitting back in an attempt to appear calm; however, she’s anything but.
“You’re one of the most reputable fashion magazines in the country,” Blythe starts. “For this line to work, we need your name behind us. I’m not going to lie; this wasn’t my first choice, but since we’ve worked together before on a few articles, I’m sure you can handle the task at hand. I want a journalist and photographer on Colton at all times during the party.”
“That won’t be a problem.” Clarissa smiles happily. Her face is alight with excitement, which doesn’t truly calm me, because what she fails to mention to Blythe is that I’m not a journalist — yet.
“I also want nothing mentioned about Colton’s…” She glances around, before continuing in a hushed tone. “Extracurricular activities.” Her gaze lands on me, taking me in for a long moment before turning back to my boss. “And if I find anything untoward going on, anything intimate going on between the journalist and my star, I’ll pull all collaboration from your publication.”
“That’s not something you will need to worry about,” Clarissa proclaims and then glances at me. “Violet is professional, and I trust her implicitly.”
My gaze snaps to my boss, who has never really said anything that nice to me since I started working at her publication a year ago. I’ve put up with her crazy tantrums, and the only thing that got me through was reading "Ask Ida" and getting advice from her on how to deal with a tyrant boss.
“Of course,” I finally respond, clearing my throat. “I’m here to do a job, nothing more.”
“Great.” Blythe smiles, she actually fucking smiles, before standing and shaking Clarissa’s hand. She looks down her nose at me, considering her next move, then offers me a hand, which I wasn’t expecting. “See you on Saturday. And …” She rakes her gaze over me once more, clearly unimpressed by my outfit, before saying, “I’ll send a dress for you to wear.”
Once she’s gone, Clarissa blows out a relieved breath. “I’m so happy you’re doing this.”
“It means a lot to me that you trust me with something so important.”
She smiles, nodding before telling me, “I do. You’ve shown up each day and proven yourself. And that’s why, once you land the interview and get that article written, I’m going to be looking at that promotion. Your name will be at the top of the list.”
“I’m … I’m so thankful.” I’m smiling from ear to ear when I leave the office at five. The sun is slowly disappearing, not hearting the early evening when I get out of the bus, which stops right on my block.
I decide to stop at my local pizza place to grab a small pepperoni-topped treat and then head home a block away. The scent of melted cheese has my stomach grumbling when I get to the kitchen of my small, one-bedroom apartment.
I was nervous about the thought of a party at Lush on Saturday, but the goal of landing my first major promotion has lit the excitement in my belly, and I know I can definitely make this happen.
There is one more day before the party, which means I need to get my hair and nails done on Saturday morning. If I’m going to party with the Upper East Side, I may as well look the part.
3
Colton
Friday night and the rooftop bar I’ve just been escorted into is filled with a bevy of beauties not wearing much who catch my attention as I move deeper through the crowds.
“Colton.” Blythe’s voice comes from somewhere amongst the people who look like they should be on a beach, not in the middle of Manhattan. “Come, meet everyone.” She smiles at me, her dark lashes along with the cat eyeliner that flicks up at the corners makes her look like an evil seductress.
If she wasn’t my agent, I might even bang her, but I never mix business with pleasure.
“Thanks for having me,” I offer as I sidle up to her. She’s a few inches shorter than me, even though she’s wearing the highest heels I've ever seen.