More Issues Than Vogue | ✔️

Chapter 2

Chapter 2

I woke up the next morning with the sun, unprepared for my first day. When I glanced over at the digital clock placed on top of the unopened box that stood next to my bed, it read '6:30'.

Ugh.

I shifted to the other side of the mattress pushing the thin sheets to the side. I threw a leg over the edge of the bed and hit a few unopened boxes in the process.

"Ow," I groaned.

I tried to get up but every muscle was fighting back as bits and pieces of what had happened last night reclaimed my thoughts.

The club...the shots...Nate...

OH MY GOD.

I jerked up straight and opened my eyes wide, blood pumping through my brain. 

I almost had sex last night. With the hottest guy I've ever seen. Even though I just met him.

Damn, a memorable first night after all. I should have given him my number. Would it be weird to Google 'Nate' and narrow down the search to guys who live in the Manhattan area? I'd probably be given more than a million hits.

It doesn't matter, I told myself. You'll never see him again.

After a much needed thirty minute shower, I went through my daily routine of blow drying and straightening my naturally honey colored locks. The layers cascaded past my waist - the longest it had ever been. As I ran a brush through it, a flash of the way Nate ran his hands all over my hair waved over me. When I began to apply makeup, dusting face powder lightly on my cheeks, I could feel the back of his hand caressing the same spot in circular motions. Finally, after a few swipes of mascara and filling in my brows, I glided some rose-colored lipstick over the same lips Nate fiercely kissed last night.

Stop it.

Why are you even thinking about some stranger?

Possibly because he's the first guy that's shown interest in almost a year. 

And he could pass as a model for Dolce and Gabbana.

I shrugged the memories of last night and Nate off, stepping into a form fitting heather gray dress with a thin waist belt. With my new patent black heels, I looked ready to take over Forward magazine.

If only Nate could see me now.

I stared at my reflection in the bathroom mirror, agreeing with my conscience that this was the best I could do. I may not know how to dress for a club, but I was a showstopper in professional attire.

I had never taken the subway before, but I assumed that BART was the same thing. I followed the directions towards my destination and with the thick crowd, I hopped on the train going to 6th Avenue. Being on the New York subway making its way towards my internship at Forward magazine was surreal. Ever since high school I knew my destiny would be in journalism, specifically for the New York Times. I found interest in almost every subject that had to do with life. I don't know how to explain it, but writing about interesting topics sets a fire in my soul and getting this opportunity in New York, the holy temple of all things in publication, was unbelievable to me.

I had to pinch myself as I stepped off the station and entered the front door of Chester Publications. Chester was the leading publication company in the nation for the hottest contemporary magazines. The founder and owner, Benjamin Chester III, was practically New York royalty. He's number three on Forbes' "New York's Most Powerful" list and pretty much runs the Upper East Side. I knew working at his company would ensure me a career in this industry for the rest of my life.