“Bill, I need that crashed jet story pronto!” The man in question glanced up quickly, his fingers flying across the typewriter keyboard. Pushing up his glasses deftly, he nodded.
“Yes, boss!”
“Jillian, I thought I asked for that coffee ten minutes ago! Where’s my espresso?” She ran out of the break room with a paper cup in hand, the steam coiling delicately on top of the lid. She walked carefully for fear of tripping over the four inch heels and the tight pencil skirt.
“Here, sir.” David snatched the drink from her and took two long gulps, not even feeling the heat of it. Poring over a news report from San Francisco, he walked along the lines of cubicles.
“Good news, three new big businesses have began a merger. I need someone to cover it!” He turned and looked across the dozens of people poring over their typewriters.
“I’ve got it, sir!” Max shouted, raising his hand. David raised an eyebrow.
“No, you don’t Max. I told you to get that school charity project finished and you still haven’t given me a draft of it.” He pointed to someone past Max. “Hey Joe! You’ve got the merger story!”
“On it, boss!” Max sunk lower into his chair, feeling the stares of his fellow journalists around him. David finished his coffee and tossed into a nearby trash can. Max glared unbeknownst to the man receiving it. His fancy suit and slicked back hair had always annoyed Max, ever since the day he’d been hired.
“Hey, Max!” Came a whisper behind him. Turning, he saw Megan’s head peeking in from the side of his cubicle. “You’ve almost got that school charity story done, right?”
With a sigh, he dug out a few sheets of paper paperclipped together. “Yeah, it’s here.” She walked all the way into his cubicle and he handed it over. She took it quizzically.
“If you’ve got it done, why haven’t you given it to David yet?” She idly leafed through the pages, reading snippets of phrases Max had written. She unconsciously tossed her long black hair over her shoulder. Max squirmed uncomfortably.
“It’s not...finished...exactly.”
“What do you mean? This sounds great. I think it’s all ready to be published. Just give it to David and he’ll get it out.” She handed it back to him. He took it, but she didn’t let go, just stared at him a moment. “If he’s got any problems with it, tell him to come talk to me.”
She left him staring at her departure, wondering idly if she really thought it was ready to go. He himself flipped a few pages and read what he’d written two days ago. It was...fairly average writing, he thought to himself. Nothing to boast about. So, what had she been talking about? It wasn’t done.
He tossed the papers back into his desk drawer and went back to his typewriter. All the while, he brooded the rejection of this new story. David never gave him the big ones.
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