Chapter 1: Satan has sharpened his Pitchfork

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Claire's Pov

I squint as my eyes adjust to the light shining in my room, the focus settling on my brick interior and the morning rays creeping in. I smile, feeling around for my other pillow and snuggling into it, feeling comfy. I turn to my right side, my brown hair creating a blanket around my head. I must have woken up before my alarm clock did. Glancing at my alarm clock, I nearly choke on my breath as I see the time splayed across the screen.

8:03 a.m.

"Fuck!" I exclaim, jumping out of bed with no time to counter-react to the head rush as I stumble to my closet, grabbing a random blouse and skirt, throwing them on the bed. I quickly tie my hair back into a ponytail, ripping off my shirt and grabbing my flats. I don't trust myself with heels when I'm half awake. I quickly button my white button down, and tuck it into my pencil skirt, muttering swear words as I rush out the door and lock it behind me.

"I'm so screwed, I'm so screwed," I mumble as I race down the streets of New York. I bump into multiple people as I speed to Starbucks. Harry is going to have my ass if I get there late, I'll be another piece to his collection of human bodies.

Harry is my boss, aka the spawn of Satan. If I get to work, without his mocha-soy latte, shit, I might as well just jump off a cliff or hang myself. Mr. Styles isn't a force to reckon with, he's the corprate editor, and if I want a chance at becoming an author, I have to be his secretary. If he wasn't such a strict and scary man, he'd be desired by every woman in the office. But even the woman are scared, including me. I pay barely any attention to the ding above my head as I enter Starbucks. I glance at the counter, Charlie smiling at me and waving me over despite the long line of people. I pace to the counter, smiling when he hands me my two orders.

"You are literally a life-saver," I mutter under breath. He laughs as I grab the cups and he waves his hand.

"Don't mention it, just doing my job," he winks and I smile, giving him a brief hug before heading towards the door, ignoring the ding once again. My legs are about to give out from the running in flat shoes and a pencil skirt, but I still jog until I see the huge 'RICK AND HUNTER PUBLISHING' sign before it turns into a full on sprint into the building. I exhale with relief when I just barely make it into the elevator, hitting the button for the 17th floor. I allow myself to breath with relief when I check the time on my phone, noting that Harry won't be getting in for another 6 minutes.

With both coffe cups in my hand, my satchel around my shoulder, and my makeup-less face walks out of the elevator. I'm relieved when I see the office doors, hurriedly opening the door. I believe I'm in the safe zone until the coffee that once rested in my hand, ends up over my blouse.

"God Damnit!" I exclaim as Leo, the mail guy, continues walking with an apologetic stare. I throw the now empty coffee container into the trash can, as I rush over to Carmen's cubicle.

"Carmen. Shirt, now. Please," I hurriedly rush her, glancing up at the entrance to the office every few seconds. It takes a moment for her to take in my apperence, as she eyes me up and down. My messy brown hair, the purple surrounding my brown eyes, my chapped lips and makeup-less face.

"Oh Honey," she mumbles, standing up,"You're going to need a lot more than just a new shirt."

***

Carmen walks out of the stall, my stained shirt on her torso. She grins in amusement as she leans on the counter bathroom, watching me fix my hair.

"You're always trying to look good for him," she says,"Why is that?"

"Because he'd criticize me," I reply, quicker than I intended. She raises her hand in the air in surrender,"You don't know him like I do. He's made fun of me before."

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