The Bad Boy

Chapter 104

Stephanie's P.O.V.

        I follow Miles through a hallway. We stop in front of a reception desk.

        "Hello Miles!" The lady sitting at the desk chair says, beaming up at Miles.

        "Good morning Alice!" Miles smiles right back her. She appears to be about thirty, with her bleach blonde hair piled on the top of her head. She has dark makeup with red lipstick, and a black and white dress.

        "What can I help you with?" She asks.

        "This is the new intern, Stephanie." He says.

        "Hi." I smile quaintly. She ignores me, staying focused on Miles.

        "I was wondering where her office is at....?" He asks.

        "Down the hall on the right!" She beams. "I assume you can put her to good use?"

        "Of course." He nods.

        He pushes off the counter and strolls off down the hallway. I follow him. I get an office?

        "So it looks like this is your office. I know it's kind of small, but you can get upgraded if you work hard enough..." Miles says, pushing open a sleek looking black wood door and walking inside.

        Small? It's bigger than Harry's bedroom and living room combined! There's a desk and chair, a few black file cabinets against one wall, a two seater couch, and a small coffee table. Who am I kidding, it's the size of my apartment.

        "Wow." I gasp, turning in a circle and taking in the room.

        "Do you like it?" Miles asks.

        "It's great!" I take in the Apple computer resting on the desk.

        "I've actually got to run to get some things to get you started on some work....so I'll let you get settled and be back in a flash." Miles says.

        "Ok." I can't tear my eyes away from the room.

        I hear him leave and the door clicks close. I sit my bag down on the leather couch. My desk is dark wood, and the coffee table is glass. The walls are white and the floor is black wood with white accents. It looks aged. Everything has such clean lines, it's gorgeous.

        I wal over to the large desk and run my hand along the clean cut wood. It has some lacquer on it to make it a smooth surface. I can't stop looking aroud. I lightly touch the edge of the computer...

        "Still looking?" Miles asks.

        Shocked, I yank my hand back to my body. "I'm uh.... I'm from southern Indiana. I grew up on a farm. I'm just a little overwhelmed." I let out a nervous laugh.

        "You haver an accent." Miles notes. "It is a little overwhelming, I see where you're coming from. I grew up here and I was overwhelmed to."

        "Glad to know it's not just me." I look at Miles, instead of the room now.

        "I've already got your work for today." He holds up a stack of papers.

        "That was fast." I raise my eyebrow at him.

        "Putting you to work." he grins.

"So what do I have to do?" I ask Miles as he walks over and sits the stack of paper down at my desk.

"You've got a certain number of manuscripts to read each day. You've got to read at least 30 pages of each one before deciding to toss it or keep it. That's what the trays are for." He lays a hand on the rectangular shapes wire metal trays on the front of the desk. "When your done with those, you can either birng them over to me, I'm four doors down from you, or take them up to the front desk."

"Okay, then what?" I ask.

"You can either get more manuscripts, or keep reading a good one. Or you can work on the story your writing." Miles says.

"How do you know I'm a writer?" I ask, raising an eyebrow at him.

"I read your resume when you applied." He says. "I promise I'm not a creepy stalker or anything."

"So how many manuscripts do I have to read today?" I ask, glancing at the huge pile of papers he put on my desk.

"Seven, because it's your first day. Tomorrow and the day after will be eight, and then nine for two days and the pattern continues." Miles says.

"How long do I get off for lunch?" I ask.

"Forty five minutes, anytime from eleven to one." Miles says.

"Do we have to stay here or can we leave and go out?" I ask.

Miles chuckles. "It's not middle school. You can go out."

"Oh." I blush. "Stupid question."

"There are no stupid questions...."Miles starts to say.

"There are stupid questions." I interupt. "What color is the floor?"

"Black but you had a reason to ask. Therefore it is not a stupid question." Miles clasps his hands behind his back.

"I didn't have a reason to ask you what color the floor was and besides that it was totally irrelevant." I reply.

"Your reason for asking was to prove me wrong and it wasn't totally irrelevant. It was relevanty to the reason of you proving me wrong." Miles smiles when I don't have a response. He's good at arguing. He might out argue Harry...