Promoted

c h a p t e r t w o

"Crap-" I mutter, and Kenny questions my sudden change of mood.

"What's wrong?"

"Today Carson asked me to meet him in his office before I left, but I was in such a rush that I forgot to see him. Ugh, what if it was important, Kenny?" I complain, almost falling into the couch again before Kenny grabs my shoulders.

"Girl snap out of it! You just got promoted, 'Kay? You now have no worries. You're basically my boss now, which is crazy by the way, so tomorrow you can quit. Just chill out, because now Carson O'Conley, or whatever his name is, is no longer your boss."

"Carson O'Connell, and yeah; I guess you're right," I sigh, falling into Keny's arm.

"Just relax Jenny, I'm basically your mentor, therapist and best friend all in one." Kenny engulfs me in a tight hug, and I melt into his embrace. After a few seconds, we release and I smile.

"Come on, Kenny. We have an office to decorate!" I exclaim and Kenny laughs.

"Alright, let's go."

--x--

It's been almost three hours, and my half of the room was finally decorated. Thanks to Kenny and his friend Roger, along with my friend Sammie, who has an eye for design, we managed to buy the appropriate furniture, set it all up and organize my office in record time. Bonus points for making it aesthetic.

"Wow, your office looks really put together!" Sammie mentions, and I nod in agreement.

"I know, it's really a change of style for me," I admit, taking in the product of our hard work.

The room is fairly large, which is reasonable because I'm sharing it with Timothy. In the back of the room, there is a large desk that Timothy and I will both be working at. On my half of the table is my black 24-inch monitor, my keyboard, my wireless mouse, my MacBook Air and iPad Pro, and finally my plants (which I had to pay for myself). Behind each side of the desk is a wall, and on each wall a whiteboard, bulletin board, memo board and magnet board. On the very back wall of the office, there are two decent sized flat screen tv's, probably for conferences and such. I also notice the shelves and file cabinets placed haphazardly around the room and shake my head. I'll have to sort that out later.

A few feet away from my shared desk is a couch, with its back facing the table. In front of it is a beautiful glass coffee table with magazines scattered across the top, placed far enough for legroom.

There are few plants around the room, mine being two of the three places around. That will need to be fixed immediately. Other than that, the only other forms of decoration are a few bland posters (that Timothy made, of course) and a single boring painting. I sigh at the lack of lively ness in this office. I know for a fact that in the future, there will be changes.

Finally, there are four floor-to-ceiling windows on the left wall of the room. As I'm about to approach them and enjoy the view, Timothy peeks inside.

"Well, you've seemed to settle in fairly well," he pushes aside the glass door and enters the room. "So, how do you like it?"

"It depends... How honest do you want my opinion to be?" I cross my arms, and Timothy mimics my action.

"It depends... How brutal is your honesty going to be?"

"It depends on how brutal you want my honesty to be. So, on a scale of plain lying to brutally honest, how would you like my opinion to be served?" I raise my eyebrows (I'm still working on raising just one) and Timothy ponders for a bit.

"Both. Be brutally honest, then lie straight to my face," Timothy concludes, and I chuckle.

"Whatever you say. Honestly? Your style is blander than the gas station's pizza on Queen street, and I'm not just talking about the office. But if you don't like that opinion... I like it. It has a cozy feel. Very minimalist." I smile, causing Timothy's smile to drop.