OFFICE DRAMA

JENNA

I finally make it to the office building, already late by almost thirty minutes. I had to go home and change into clothes that were actually work appropriate. I couldn't show up to my first day of work looking like an underpaid stripper.

My head is low as I walk into the building, but I find that it is milling with tons of people, all of them too busy to pay attention to the late intern.

"Who are you?" An order lady calls from her place behind the computer.

I snap my head in her direction. I had forgotten that this was the reception and that I had to actually check in. I was just lost in the sheer grandness of this place.

"I'm Jenna," I introduce myself, making my way over to the counter behind which she's sitting. "Jenna Ross. New intern."

"Intern?" She looks me up and down. "In what department?"

"Marketing and Advertising."

She turns her attention back to the computer in front of her and goes to work searching me out. She finally raises her eyes back up to my face.

"Go on up to the sixth floor and go to the office of Mr. Jackson, he's the head of the Marketing department and your immediate boss. He'd help you out with everything you need to get started."

I give her a grateful smile. "Thank you."

I make my way to the elevator and press the call button, waiting patiently for the elevator to arrive.

By the time I make it to the sixth floor, my nerves are all over the place. I palm my skirt, hoping to clean off the sweat on my palms.

I stop in front of the office with the nameplate Mr. Jackson, then draw in a deep breath and knock on the door.

"Come on in," he barks out sharply.

I inhale a rough breath and turn the door knob. A tall man with a bulky frame sits behind the huge mahogany desk, thin glasses framing his strong face, and dark brown hair styled in a perfect slick back.

He looks like power, and anger. Like he has a permanent displeasure with the world. He casts me a sharp glance.

"You are?"

"I'm Jenna Ross. Good morning, Mr. Jackson."

He dismisses me immediately. "Grab a cup of coffee for me from the cafe two streets down. Black, with just a smidge of sugar."

"Yes, sir." I whisper, surprised and confused.

I still haven't moved by the time he raises his eyes again, and he barks out in fury. "What are you still standing around for? I said to get me coffee!"

"I'm sorry," I apologize immediately and rush toward the door, but it swings open before I reach it.

A model-like figure steps in, her pencil skirt hugging her perfect curves, and a peach colored blazer complimenting the pitch black. Her hair is let down in beautiful auburn waves, and her eyes are a perfect almond, complete with delicate facial features and a pouty pair of lips.

She has a cup of coffee in her hands and a sweet smile on her face. "Mr. Jackson. I thought I should get you some coffee since you've barely been out of your office all morning." She turns to look at me with a questioning glare before she finishes. "It's black with only a tiny serving of sugar like you prefer."

He beams up at her. "Thank you, Eva. I'm glad someone around here knows how to do their job." He cuts me a dark glare as he says this, then retrieves the cup of coffee from the her and takes a long swig.

"Have these papers photocopied, and arranged in time for the meeting we have by noon today. The schedule and list is at the top of the pile." He dumps a pile of papers on the edge of the desk closest to me.

"Yes, sir." I pick up the papers and hurry out of the office.

What the hell was that? Have I already gotten on the bad side of my supervisor on only the first day? I exhale a weary breath and hurry along to the arrangement of cubicles downstairs to ask around for the photocopier. I couldn't afford to piss Mr. Jackson off any further.

My internship is only six months long. Hopefully I make it through with minimum drama.

********

"Who the hell are you?" The model look-alike from earlier, Eva, walks into the machine room with a mug in her palms.

"I'm Jenna," I introduce myself politely. "And you?" I extend a hand in her direction.

She looks me up and down like I might have a disease of some sort, then scoffs and turns away.

"Aren't you supposed to be in high school or something? What are you doing in a company this big?"

I inhale to calm myself. "I'm merely an intern. I'm majoring in marketing in..."

"You're merely a college student?" She cuts me off. "Who'd you have to sleep with to get accepted here?" Her voice is filled with disgust.

"Excuse you?" I'm taken aback by the accusation, and anger starts to simmer under my skin.

"Not just anybody can waltz into this building with confidence, and millions of applications get trashed everyday. There's no way you got in here on merit."

"And how would you know that? Perhaps you had to sleep your way in as well?" I shoot back furiously.

Her palm is connecting with my cheek before I can even form a complete thought.

"May I ask what is going on here?" A man in a blue suit comes up from behind her.

Her face heats up at the realization that she's been caught and she stutters an excuse. "I... we... it was just..."

I decide to help her out. "She slapped me. After accusing me of sleeping with someone higher up to be able to snag an internship spot here in the first place."

The man has a kind face and an aura of authority about him. I just hope that I haven't misjudged or I would totally lose my job now.

"Ms. Benedict?" He prompts her.

"She... she attacked me. She started trying to get some vital secrets about the success of the company. I think that she's a spy of some sort." Her verbal vomit is exactly that. Waste.

The man draws in a slow breath and looks Eva square in the eyes. "Clear your desk immediately, you're fired."

My eyes go as wide as saucers. Holy shit!

"Wait, what? You're just going to fire me over the word of some sleazy intern?"

"Bullying is something that is not tolerated in any way or form in this company, Eva. So pack your things and leave, or I'd have security escort you out and make sure to ruin your chances of ever getting a good job in this city."

She sniffles and huffs indignantly, then stomps her feet on the floor like an errant child before she whirls around to face me. "You'd pay for this." She storms out of the room.

I release the breath I'd been holding as soon as she is completely out of sight.

The man introduces himself with an outstretched arm. "I'm George Evans, the managing director of Carlson's Inc."