C H A P T E R T W E N T Y
OFFICE HOURS
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"So, Patricia makes coffee in the morning, but for the sake of your taste buds, I'd recommend picking one up on your way here and just pouring it into a mug. Patricia's a sensitive lady and it's a delicate ecosystem we maintain here at the Sentinel." Josh Nolan, my new boss, joked as he showed me more in depth around the office and explained the ropes to me. "Oh, and by the way," He started, motioning towards the dark emerald green skirt suit I was wearing with a flattering white blouse, "we're pretty casual here, so you don't have to worry about dressing up so much. It's a good color on you, though. Brings out your eyes. Now, this is what we like to call our Idea Board."
The quick talking man had brought me to a large whiteboard in the hall near his office. the board was covered in dozens of ideas in various handwritings. Random pictures and articles from the Sentinel's own newspapers also dotted the board with personal notes like 'follow up?'.
"Finally, this is your own little corner of the world." Josh introduced, leading me to an empty desk within the busy building. There was a simple black cup of pens, a dark blue office chair, and a Mac computer on the surface of the wooden desk. "Feel free to decorate all you'd like," Josh suggested as I picked up a couple of the pens from the cup on the desk. They were white and read 'Starling City Sentinel' on the side, "but due to pass incidents, I'd recommend you avoid the use of hot glue guns or mass quantities of rhinestones."
I chuckled, but then quickly realized Josh wasn't laughing as well. "Oh, you were serious," I said, cutting off my amusement. He kept a straight face until the corners of his lips tugged into a smile.
"Don't worry. I'm messing with you. But honestly though, no hot glue guns or rhinestones. Or lava lamps. Gina's still partially blind. Okay, so as far as deadlines go, we're pretty lenient. Here, we like to focus on quality, so if a story isn't up to Sentinel standards by the original publication date, we'll push it back a few days. It's a privilege, don't abuse it. But I have a suspicion I won't have to talk to you about that ever."
"Thank you so much, Mr. Nolan. I'm really excited to start working." I said gratefully and Josh flashed one of his signature smiles of straight, bright white teeth.
"And I'm excited to see what you've got. And how many times do I have to tell you to call me Josh? Literally everyone in this office does." Josh teased. "Now," he said, pulling the rolling desk chair out from the desk. "Care to give it a spin?" He offered, motioning towards the chair. I obliged, sitting in the abnormally comfortable office chair. I looked at Josh and he drew a circle in the air with his finger. I snickered, shaking my head as I amused him by turning the chair in a quick circle. "Nice, right?"
"I can honestly say this chair is nicer than 90% of the seating in my apartment."
"Good. Now, I wanted to talk to you about your articles. Have you been working on anything?"
"I have, actually. An article on the Chinese Triad." I told him and he raised an eyebrow.
"The Triad? I thought you were tackling the Hood?"
"I think the Hood is somehow linked to the Triad. Also, we have to come up with something better to call him. 'The Hood' sounds like a shady drug dealer in an old ripped up hoodie, and 'the Vigilante' is a little tired."
Josh smiled widely. "Alright," he accepted, "What do you suggest?"
I had to think a moment. I wasn't expecting him to ask me immediately, but I sat contemplating. I remembered my brief meetings with the Hood. I recalled his silhouette and the deep octave of his gruff voice. He wore the classic green leather hood and a painted-on mask, but what about his bow and arrow?
YOU ARE READING
Straight Shot ➳ Oliver Queen
Hayran KurguAfter the unexpected death of her best friend, Oliver Queen, Karter Mitchell ran away from Starling City to start a new life in California, but she learns that Oliver is- perplexingly- still alive. He has spent the last five years shipwrecked on a s...