Thread: Four Letters (Ariamella and Dane Stalling)

Ding! A young woman checked her phone for the third or fourth time as elevator doors opened to the forty-second floor of the Bellamy-Daniels Publications building. 750 AM. She frowned to herself as she slipped the device into the front pocket of her purse, stepping out of the congested small space and out to the spacious area of the wide hallway. Her chocolate eyes flicked upwards to the large logo that was the sole decoration on the wall in front of her, reading the word Alpha in bold, capital letters. It annoyed her to cut it so close to 8 AM, but she hadn't anticipated the Monday morning rush to be so hectic, and on top of that, she had to obtain a guest ID at the building lobby because her personal badge to enter the building - not to mention the doors of the magazine office itself - hadn't been issued to her yet. That alone had eaten up fifteen minutes of precious time time that could have been spent settling down at her new job, or getting a macchiato from the Starbucks that was conveniently located on first floor for all her caffeinated pleasure. She walked down the hallway to the left and raised the ID up to the frosted glass doors of the office, waiting just a second for the 'click' of the doors to unlock before she swung one wide open. The inside lobby was a pristine white with modern decor that seemed to strike the perfect balance between masculinity and fashionable taste. A perfectly made-up blonde receptionist looked up from her furious typing, flipping a section of golden curls behind her as she eyed the female who had entered the room. While other women might have withered underneath the clear judgmental appraisal, the young woman returned the receptionist's cool gaze with one of her own. She had already encountered that type of woman enough to know that she never actually cared what they thought of her. After all, they were just front-desk ladies, and she was someone of actual importance. At least, that's what she thought privately to herself. She stepped forward, a flash of annoyance running through her once more as she realized it would most likely take more time to check her in. Marisa Demmings , she said smoothly, placing the ID on the white surface and nudging it forward. Do you have an appointment this morning, ma'am? the blonde asked in return, a fake smile plastered on her face. I'm a new employee here. Oh. Well if you'll wait just a moment, I'll get everything ready for you. The receptionist waved toward the sofas to the right and picked up a phone in her other hand, making the dismissal clear as daylight. Marisa opted not to sit and instead took a step to the side, pulling out a small stack of personal documents that held her resum and personal research on Alpha magazine. She looked to the wall behind the blonde's head, inspecting the same black magazine logo. Briefly she questioned, not for the first time, why she had taken the job. It wasn't that Alpha was an undesirable first career opportunity the magazine was a top contender in sales, on par and in the big leagues with the likes of GQ and Esquire despite being rather young, only having been in publication for 30 years or so. In fact, Alpha had really only taken off within the past seven years under the direction of James Walker, a man who was known in the publishing world for his creative brilliance and avant-garde approach to the magazine. Marisa figured the popularity and success partially came from his young age. It put him within the age range of primary readership, and it was likely that he knew exactly what men wanted to see in the magazine. But in spite of all its success, she still had hang-ups about joining the team. When she had initially applied for different positions within Bellamy-Daniels, her expectation hadn't been to get a call back from Alpha , but rather the magazine that sat just one floor above Allette , one of the leading women's magazines. She had interned for teenAllette the summer after her senior year of college, and along with some other internships and important journalism accomplishments, it decorated her resum quite nicely for someone who was a fresh graduate. Well, technically she had received a call from Allette , but not for the journalism position she desired. Nancy from HR had called her about an interview for the editor-in-chief's senior assistant position, which was supposedly a large step for someone who hadn't even been a junior assistant. Alpha , on the other hand, had called her for a journalism position, though it was to join their 'Women' department as the 'women on sex' opinion columnist. It wasn't exactly a topic that she thought would let all her skill shine through, but it was something rather than nothing, and it definitely paid more than the 35,000 yearly salary of being a Starbucks runner and schedule organizer for Heidi Steele, some fifty-something year-old woman who was rumored to be a bitch to all her assistants. Marisa wasn't stupid, and given her connections and careful research for all potential job opportunities, the choice between James Walker and Heidi hadn't been much of a choice at all. The auburn-haired young women checked her phone once more just as a different voice called out her name. 754. Good. She looked up to see another blonde, a friendlier looking one, smiling as she stood in the entrance of another set of frosted glass doors that led to the rest of the office. Ms. Demmings? Welcome. My name is Andrea , assistant to James Walker. My apologies on the the wait and the ID. It'll be ready by the end of the day, so I'll have it sent to you before you leave. She led Marisa though the office, stopping at various points to give items to different employees. Envelopes, documents, a five dollar bill all while keeping up her introduction speech. Catherine - the one you had met for your interview - is sending you to Mr. Walker, where you'll get a more formal introduction and exactly what it is that you're assigned to do. Andrea stopped outside a room larger than that of the rest of the floor. The doors was made of the same frosted glass, and the entire front wall consisted of floor-to-ceiling glass panes, though they had been dimmed and were impossible to see through. Right through the door, the blonde said, motioning forward before retreating back to her desk out in the hall. Without further hesitation, Marisa knocked twice on the glass, hearing a Come in, from within the room before she was even able to lower her arm, and she grasped the handle and turned it, entering the room just as the same voice said, Sit. It was rare that she ever was surprised at the things she encountered in the professional world, but James Walker was one of those exceptions. He was young - maybe 40? Not even? In any case, the girl walked forward and gracefully sat in one of the black chairs placed in front of his desk, crossing her legs and placing her bag just to the left of her feet. She sat still with a professional smile on her face, knowing it was appropriate to let him extend his arm for the handshake first as he was her boss. Well, her boss's boss's boss. There was still the department editor and executive editor to answer to.