out and I’ll forever be known as the new girl that passed out on her first day.
The driver coughs to catch my attention and I realize we have already stopped outside the building.
It’s time to put your big girl panties on, Madison.
Paying the driver I head into the building, ignoring the bile rising in my throat. Secretly wishing I could talk to Yoel, he would know just what to say to calm my nerves.
The New Yorker is on the eleventh floor, my shaky hands press the button. Thankfully I have the elevator to myself because I’m sure I look like I’m freaking the fuck out.
The elevator chimes indicating me that I have reached my floor. The doors open and the first person I see is a blonde man behind a desk typing away at his computer while talking on a headset. The whole floor is an open concept, I can see other writers at their desks either typing away or on their phones. No one looks up to see the new meat standing here lost.
Suddenly I’m being almost knocked over and my coffee almost flies out of my hands.
“Oh shit, I’m so sorry. I’m such a klutz!” Looking over I see a tiny woman with a head of fire red curls and black frame glasses.
Forcing a smile I shake my head. “It’s okay. Don’t worry about it. I’m Madison St. Cruix. I’m the newbie.” I hold my hand out for her to shake.
She blinks and stares at me before shaking my hand. “Oh my god, you’re so pretty. You’re the new pop culture staff writer, right?”
This time I give her a real smile. “Yes, I am.” I glance back to the receptionist, he is still talking away.
“Oh, I’m so rude. I’m Emma, the television critic.” She adjusts her thick glasses. “That’s Charles.” She tilts her head toward the blonde. “I can take you to Carlie.” Emma turns on her feet and heads down the aisle.
As I follow Emma heads start to pop up and I realized I’m way over dressed, mostly everyone is causal, and here I am looking like I just stepped off the runway of the Chanel show. I mentally face palm myself.
Emma knocks on a wood door and pushes it open. Automatically I recognize Carlie who is sitting behind a large oak desk.
“Madison, so good to see you.” She smiles up at me. “Have a seat.”
The door shuts behind me giving the jump I need to slide in the seat across from my new boss. She reminds me of the boss from NCIS:L.A. with her short black bob and glasses.
“I see you met Emma, she’s great.” Carlie nods toward the door. “So are you ready for your first assignment?”
Already? I don’t get a tour or anything. This is not calming my nerves at all. Instead I nod and smile. “Of course.”
Leaning back in her chair Carlie studies me. “You’re young. Mid twenties, you know what’s popular. You’ll have free reign over what you write as long as it’s pop culture.”
Well that didn’t help. I was hoping more for a topic, not figure my own topic out. I’ve only been here fifteen minutes and I was already overwhelmed.
“Sounds great.” I stand up adjusting the strap of my messenger bag. “Where can I set up?” I smile brightly.
I have been sitting at my new desk for forty minutes staring at my blank computer screen. I have no idea what’s happening in the world, how sad is that.
So far I have met only three other writers. Emma, who is totally awesome. Nick Ellis, the politics staff writer and Carter Moore, he wrote the sports section. They all wore glasses and I was starting to wonder if that was a thing here.
Carter’s desk was the closest to me so we made idle small talk. He was a little bit older than me and was from Boston. His accent was adorable, just like he was. He had that geek model look going on with his stylish brown hair and black rimmed glasses, my guess was that they were Tom Ford. Carter also didn’t look like the sports type, but I guess looks don’t mean anything.
I jumped in my chair when Charles set a vase of at least two dozen roses on my desk with a box. What the
The driver coughs to catch my attention and I realize we have already stopped outside the building.
It’s time to put your big girl panties on, Madison.
Paying the driver I head into the building, ignoring the bile rising in my throat. Secretly wishing I could talk to Yoel, he would know just what to say to calm my nerves.
The New Yorker is on the eleventh floor, my shaky hands press the button. Thankfully I have the elevator to myself because I’m sure I look like I’m freaking the fuck out.
The elevator chimes indicating me that I have reached my floor. The doors open and the first person I see is a blonde man behind a desk typing away at his computer while talking on a headset. The whole floor is an open concept, I can see other writers at their desks either typing away or on their phones. No one looks up to see the new meat standing here lost.
Suddenly I’m being almost knocked over and my coffee almost flies out of my hands.
“Oh shit, I’m so sorry. I’m such a klutz!” Looking over I see a tiny woman with a head of fire red curls and black frame glasses.
Forcing a smile I shake my head. “It’s okay. Don’t worry about it. I’m Madison St. Cruix. I’m the newbie.” I hold my hand out for her to shake.
She blinks and stares at me before shaking my hand. “Oh my god, you’re so pretty. You’re the new pop culture staff writer, right?”
This time I give her a real smile. “Yes, I am.” I glance back to the receptionist, he is still talking away.
“Oh, I’m so rude. I’m Emma, the television critic.” She adjusts her thick glasses. “That’s Charles.” She tilts her head toward the blonde. “I can take you to Carlie.” Emma turns on her feet and heads down the aisle.
As I follow Emma heads start to pop up and I realized I’m way over dressed, mostly everyone is causal, and here I am looking like I just stepped off the runway of the Chanel show. I mentally face palm myself.
Emma knocks on a wood door and pushes it open. Automatically I recognize Carlie who is sitting behind a large oak desk.
“Madison, so good to see you.” She smiles up at me. “Have a seat.”
The door shuts behind me giving the jump I need to slide in the seat across from my new boss. She reminds me of the boss from NCIS:L.A. with her short black bob and glasses.
“I see you met Emma, she’s great.” Carlie nods toward the door. “So are you ready for your first assignment?”
Already? I don’t get a tour or anything. This is not calming my nerves at all. Instead I nod and smile. “Of course.”
Leaning back in her chair Carlie studies me. “You’re young. Mid twenties, you know what’s popular. You’ll have free reign over what you write as long as it’s pop culture.”
Well that didn’t help. I was hoping more for a topic, not figure my own topic out. I’ve only been here fifteen minutes and I was already overwhelmed.
“Sounds great.” I stand up adjusting the strap of my messenger bag. “Where can I set up?” I smile brightly.
I have been sitting at my new desk for forty minutes staring at my blank computer screen. I have no idea what’s happening in the world, how sad is that.
So far I have met only three other writers. Emma, who is totally awesome. Nick Ellis, the politics staff writer and Carter Moore, he wrote the sports section. They all wore glasses and I was starting to wonder if that was a thing here.
Carter’s desk was the closest to me so we made idle small talk. He was a little bit older than me and was from Boston. His accent was adorable, just like he was. He had that geek model look going on with his stylish brown hair and black rimmed glasses, my guess was that they were Tom Ford. Carter also didn’t look like the sports type, but I guess looks don’t mean anything.
I jumped in my chair when Charles set a vase of at least two dozen roses on my desk with a box. What the
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