Legal Murder

chapter:2

Lauren Painter yanked a brush through her hair while stepping into her black heels. The phone down the hall of her studio apartment began to holler at her, and the alarm clock beside the bed started to ring. With a mint-pasted toothbrush hanging out of her mouth, the twenty-something-year-old woman rushed about the room, cursing at anything that stood in her way.

She hated being late. But she had an issue with punctuality.

The answering machine clicked as the phone stopped ringing. The caller's voice drifted down the hallway. "Lauren, it's Steve. You said you'd be here by noon so we could talk about the front page. I told the kid we would print her story, but how the heck am I supposed to know which page to set it to! Lauren, get down here. I'm getting desperate!" Her assistant editor slammed the phone down and the apartment fell back to alarm ringing and the shuffling of Lauren's multitasking.

Sixteen minutes later, she was exhaling a massive breath in the comfort of her heated BMW. She was beyond stressed, with a bazillion things were calling her attention. Her younger sister was flying in from Chicago that afternoon, and Steve would not stop hassling her about Little NYC Newspaper. Lauren was Executive Editor, but had trouble keeping up with all the articles that needed placement.

Her car swerved into the right lane as she approached the minor intersection around the corner from her apartment complex. There was a row of commercial buildings directly behind her building, and it annoyed Lauren dramatically that she had to greet a big, ugly pink-painted shop every morning when she glanced out a window. She had never bothered to visit any of those stores, because they held the obvious look of cheap and foreign.

A buzzing noise erupted, catching Lauren off guard. Grumbling profanities, she flipped open her cellphone and practically yelled her "hello".

"Uh, hello... is this Ms. Lauren Painter?" An older man's voice hesitated.

"Yes. And I'm late." She snapped, for no particular reason, except to blow off steam.

The man took in a breath. "Well, this is Reagan Peters, movie producer for Hollywood Reels. I heard about your work as an editor of your own newspaper, and thought the whole story was pretty darn catchy. I want to make a movie out of it. But, I understand if you're too busy."

The silver BMW came to a screeching halt in front of the one story, backstreet newsroom building. Lauren started gasping, tried to take a sip of coffee to calm herself down, and ended up choking it back out. "Um- I- You mean- A movie- A-About-"

"Miss Painter, I am a very busy man, myself. If you'd just like to call back about-"

"N-No, I'm fine! I mean- I'd love to... be in a movie, I mean. Yes! I'll do it!" She sputtered, glancing at her side mirror that showed Steve storming towards her car. "But yeah, I got to go. Can I call you back, sir?"

"Of course! Let me know if you have any other brilliant ideas," He agreed, "you sound like an exciting young lady!"

Far from it, Lauren thought in amusement, before hanging up.

Steve threw open her door, looking enraged. "I can't do this anymore! I'm a wreck!"

Lauren offered him a sweet smile, before slowly removing herself from the car. "Oh, don't exaggerate."

"What on earth are you smiling about?" He bellowed, stalking behind her to the front doors.

She turned to him with a grin. "Didn't you always say you wanted to be an actor? A famous one?"

Steve brushed back a strand of his dark, curly hair. "Yeah... why?"

Lauren extended her arm, and gave him a firm handshake. "You've just been promoted."

Chapter Question: Which personality trait annoys you more: late and frazzled like Lauren, or on-time and impatient like Steve?