Red Light, Green Light [Part two]

Evann found herself actually sitting down at her desk about an hour after the incident, playing the long conversation through her head.

"All I see here is that you dont care. Millions of people would kill for your job, hell; millions of people would kill for any job at all! You should be worshipping the ground I walk on, not spilling coffee on it! And another thing-."

She sighed and placed her head in her hands, groaning at her stupidity. Her head ached, her stomach ached, and she felt like she was going to throw up. She was never going to wear mascara again. Lets just blame the damn mascara, lets just blame something, lets just blame just as she lifted her head she was face to face with a man that shared the desk to the side of her, he was smug, obviously about his ability to show up to work on time after a night of staying out.

Lets blame Kevin.

"You jerk!" She hissed, pushing him away. All she got out of him was a laugh. A laugh! "Dont laugh! I almost lost my job because of you and your stupid eleven o'clock invitations!"

Last night he had called in complete boredom, asking her to go grab a drink with him. Just one drink, he promised. Just one. After about ten minutes of persuasion, Evann found herself giving in, grabbing her keys, and heading for the new bar a few blocks away. As luck would have it, one turned into two, and two doubled into four martinis, plus one white Russian on the house.

He sat down on the edge of her desk, he had a five oclock shadow at ten in the morning. He looked as if he had just woken up and threw on the first thing he saw, which wasnt really much of a problem since every single one of his business suits were the same black expensive ones, just different color ties. Today he was sporting pink.

"No, you almost lost your job because you almost spilled coffee on the boss." He said, clearing his throat and looking away from her. "You almost lost your job. Almost. You didnt though, did you? So stop groaning and listen to what your best friend has to tell you." He smiled, looking back at her noticing that he caught her attention. He slid off her desk and reached over to his, grabbing a piece of paper and slapping it down in front of her.

"The boss man said that I could choose whom to give this project to, since as sad as I know you are about it, I'm going out of town in a week and would then be forced to miss the grand event".

Evann looked at the paper, scanning her eyes over the title multiple times, each time not quite registering in her mind until she focused.

"New York Fashion week?" She gasped, looking up at him. Even for once not caring to mention the bit of ketchup on his lip left over from his breakfast. She felt as though she could just kiss him. Like all and any of the hell hed put her through, even accidentally, was just gone. This was the chance of a lifetime and she felt like she owed him a world of favors. Like she could just get on the top of her desk and dance with him and she wouldnt even care.

"Well, Not exactly."

Or not.

"Its just one of those 'Designer fashions for less' sort of stories. Youll be using information and the best designers for fashion week, but then go find the same looking thing for about $9,000 less." He laughed, sitting back on her desk, "You'll be a savior for all of those less then rich people who want to look like their favorite stars. Everyone will love you besides of course, the star designers, but then again they're so rich they wouldnt even care."

She sighed, looked down at the paper again, re-read it, then looked back at Kevin. So much for the chance of a lifetime. She rested her head on the back of her hand and sighed again. Evann Michelle doesnt do designer knock-offs. Evann Michelle does designers, not exactly in the sort of sense that shed like and what she dreams about. But she loves her Gucci glasses and designer purses and usually scoffs at people when they try to pull off fakes.

"You have ketchup on your lip."

He stared at her for a second then reached over to grab a napkin on his desk and wiped it clean.

"You may not see it as something big and important, but it really is. Mr. Andrews is taking it completely seriously. If nothing else, if you do a good job on it, youll be on his good side instead of just barely making it out of here with a job." He said, walking back to his desk to sit in the rather comfortable computer chair to lean back and pull open a drawer, searching for something within it.

"Even if I do a Great job on it, he'll only think it was 'Good enough'. The man hates everyone! He lives for watching people in wheelchairs fall down stairs, or people ending up completely humiliated. Its his passion. Screw writing, lets give him an award for being the most damn heartless person in New York!" She screamed, pulling her hair slightly in aggravation. The many people in the office looked at her, but none said a word, all seeming to shrug in unison. Everyone knew it was true.

"Oh, stop being so dramatic. Besides," he grunted, "To do research on fashion week, you would sort of need to be there."

Evann looked up, not quite hearing his words right the first time since, as always, she had started to tune him out. As she saw him pull out a press badge only to be used for interviews for very important events, though, her face lit up and a smile spread across her face. Maybe a dance on the desk wasnt completely out of the question.

Green Light.