Fate Interrupted

3. Back Under His Spell

Ren

TWO-WEEKS LATER

I take a slow sip of my coffee, gripping the smooth ceramic mug to draw as much heat as possible into my hands. This is my latest attempt to warm up in my new office, which always seems cold. It's the end of a long but exciting week at my new job at Viibe Marketing as the only graphic designer at the largest and most reputable marketing company in the city of Oakmont. It's actually very small.

Well, small compared to the ginormous marketing company I worked for in New York, with three-thousand employees nationwide. Viibe is so proud to be on the top floor of one of the tallest buildings downtown, which has eight stories in total. I used to work on the twenty-first.  I'd rather have found a job in San Francisco, but finding any job this year has been tough after the financial crisis. I guess beggars can't be choosers.

I suddenly hear the fast-paced clicking of heels on our grey vinyl tile. My stomach drops out as a fresh wave of adrenaline takes me. My Aussie manager, Cheryl, appears from around the corner. Her black bob haircut is a bit unruly on one side, and more lipstick is on the mug she's holding than on her mouth.

"Lauren, forget about the winery job. I need you to jump on something right away for Best Life," she tells me, frazzled. "Change all the backgrounds from 628 to 629, put the girl back in, and move the typeface back up to the top. We need the font to be bigger and have more punch. The clients want more 'wow' factor. Got it?"

"Yes. Okay." Quickly, I grab a pen and jot down the information.

She blows out a long sigh. "Sorry to keep dumping more things on you today, but this client keeps changing their bloody mind. We need this done by the end of the day for sign-off, allriiight?"

"No problem," I respond in my most positive and upbeat voice.

"Ta," she says and briskly walks away.

I immediately close down the job I had open on my screen, pull up the Best Life ad I was working on yesterday, and get to work. Once Cheryl is out of earshot, I heave a frustrated sigh. Crap. Forty frantic minutes later, I prepare an email, attach the completed changes, and press send with a satisfying click. Hopefully, she's happy with that, but my souring stomach says I better get out of here before she comes back.

"Hey, Lauren." I hear from across my desk. I look up, midway through packing my things.

It's Bryce, the very nice but very eager-to-make-friends co-worker in Brand Management. His autumn-colored auburn hair, sky-blue eyes, and smile could easily make most girls go crazy. His flirty demeanor has been difficult to resist so far, but I have a thing about dating co-workers, especially guys from marketing. Unfortunately, he's really good at cracking the kind of subtle jokes I like, and he often makes me laugh, even when I try not to. He knows he's charming, and I don't want to encourage him.

"How'd your second week go? Not too crazy, I hope," he says, smiling his dazzling smile.

"It was great. Still learning about the projects and their clients and such, but I think I'll really like it here," I say. My sincerity holds his gaze, and I drop mine.

He leans against my desk while fanning out my Pantone color deck. "Well, it's great having you around." He winks. 

A light blush dusts my cheeks. "Thank you. Glad to help out." My eyes flash toward Cheryl's office, remembering my earlier urgency, and abruptly stand, grabbing my bag and jacket. "I actually need to run." 

"I'm just leaving too. I'll go with you."

My jaw clenches slightly. Great.

We walk to the elevators together, and he presses the down button for me. "So, you got any exciting weekend plans?"