A/N: Hey guys, this is just an idea. I'm really not sure how far this is going to go, so bare with me. If you like it, please review so I can know it's worth continuing :)


When my sister told me to check the want ads for jobs, I thought I had finally hit rock bottom. I refused immediately. I was not willing to give up on my dream job search that easily. A few days later, here I was, interviewing for a job I found in the want ads. Had it finally happened? Was I really this desperate for a career? I sauntered into the tall office building, admitting defeat. What was I getting myself into? I spent three years at a publishing company reading and reviewing first chapters of manuscripts. I was the one who decided which of them were the next Hunger Games to hit the shelves and which ones were destined to be published by my shredder. I made my way to the front desk clumsily, trying not kill myself in the heels my sister had picked out to match this professional-looking skirt and dress shirt. Why did I quit my job? Why did I put myself through this? Oh, right, I wanted something better for myself.

"Can I help you, ma'am?" the attractive woman asked from her chair behind the desk. Her face had that over-the-top secretary look, and I was one hundred and thirty percent sure she wasn't a natural redhead.

My voice sounded so subpar to hers as I responded meekly, "I have an interview?"

I noticed her look me up and down before she stood up. "You must be Miss McCall. Mr. Griffin is expecting you down the hall. Follow me."

I followed the phony redhead down the long corridor until we reached a white door.

"Through here," she smiled at me. "Good luck."

I rolled my eyes after she walked past me. 'Good luck' I mouthed sarcastically as I opened the door. The room was dark and I could barely see him over the light of his computer monitor. What, did he have a hangover or something? Nah, he's probably too old for that. He owned this company and probably more, so he had to be, what, fifty?

"Ah, Miss McCall." the outline of a man stood up in the darkness. "I apologize for the low light. It calms me while I work."

"Melanie," I corrected as the blinds folded open suddenly. I shielded my eyes to adjust to the light. Boy, was I wrong. He stood before me wearing a grey suit with a blue and grey striped tie. His short brown hair tousled as if he had ran his hands through it a moment earlier in frustration. At me? I blinked at him as my eyes finally adjusted completely. He was, maybe, thirty. The desk in front of him was pretty generic, but I could tell it was made out of some type of really expensive wood. What was he doing my interview for? Didn't he have employees for that?

"Please, sit." he motioned to the chair in front of the desk.

I did as I was told, setting my manila envelope on the desk in front of me. "Thank you."

"So," he sat back down, glancing at the envelope. "Do you have any experience filing paperwork?"

"Oh," I muttered, handing it to him. "My resume."

He looked at me for a moment before taking it. I noticed a faint smirk play across his lips, and I realized then that he was enjoying himself. After a moment of sifting through it's contents, he handed it back to me. "Seems to me like you're a little overqualified for a mail clerk position. Why did you leave your previous employer, if I may ask? Editor at a publishing company of that magnitude it a pretty impressive position."

Mail clerk. Hilarious. "I thought I deserved more."

He raised an eyebrow, and a slight smile appeared on his face. "And organizing my meaningless paperwork is your definition of 'more'?"

"Uh, sure." I shrugged, sitting forward in my seat. His sarcasm was ticking me off. Now, I wished i got interviewed by a peon. "Look, no publishing companies in Atlanta are hiring, okay? Especially for the positions I actually want."

"And what positions are those?" he was surprisingly calm at my outburst.

I sat back in the chair, "Editor or higher."

He stared at my face for a little bit. I looked down at my hands uncomfortably, but I could still feel his eyes on me for a few more breaths. He opened his mouth again to speak, but the bottle-redhead interrupted him before he could begin to retort with what was probably another snide remark.

"Um, Mr. Griffin, Hive on line two."

"Excuse me," he muttered in my direction, glaring at her. "Griffin."

"So..." I whispered to myself, beginning to twiddle my thumbs. It felt like his phone call was lasting forever. "...yeah."

"I'm going to have to cancel that meeting, Sir. I have a lunch appointment that just came up, and I can't miss it... Of course... Sure, five o'clock tomorrow afternoon... yes I'll bring the spirits... Indeed... Have a good afternoon, Harvey." With that, he hung up the phone. "I'm sorry, where were we?"

"Harvey?" I raised an eyebrow. "Like Harvey Beeman? The politician?"

His eyes narrowed when he looked at me. "Indeed. How did you guess?"

"Interesting choice for a code name." I shrugged, twiddling my thumbs again. "I thought billion dollar, company-owning philanthropists would be more creative."

That smirk played across his lips once more. "Are you're making fun of me?"

I waved my hand in front of me. "Of course not, Sir. Proceed with my makeshift interview that you obviously don't want to be doing."

"Miss McCall, would you like to have lunch with me?"

My eyes met his. "I thought you had a lunch appointment. You don't want to disappoint two clients in one day, do you?"

"Honestly, I was hoping that you would be my lunch appointment." the corners of his mouth creeped up into a subtle smile.

I began to smile too, but I thought better of it. I really needed a job, but would I have to sleep with the boss to get it? "Actually, I have got to run, if that's okay with you? I have, uh, another interview."

His smile flipped upside down almost immediately as I stood up and picked up my paperwork. "Who is it?"

"I'm sorry?" I looked up at him warily.

"You're interview. Who's the company?"

"Um, Wheeler and Faye." I half-whispered.

"Hmph," He huffed, standing up with me, meeting my gaze. "Good luck."

"Oh, uh, you too. I mean, uh, thanks." Ugh, facepalm.

When I turned to leave, he opened the door for me. "I'll call you,"

I raised my eyebrows.

"...about the position." he finished.

I let out a ragged breath. "Of course, thank you again."

"It was my pleasure."


When I arrived back at my apartment, I threw my keys at the door as I shut it. "Fucking fuck!"

"Are you okay?"

I turned to meet my sister Ashley's gaze from the kitchen. "What are you doing here?"

"Eating dinner." she finished licking the spoon she had in her hand.

I walked over and looked at her plate. "That's ice cream."

"Yeah, well this is dessert." she frowned at me. "How was your interview?"

"What do you think?"

"I'm sorry, hun." She licked the spoon again. "Want some?"

"No, I'm not hungry." I laid my head on the table. "I have to conserve my food because I'm unemployed. Still."

"So they just denied you on the spot?"

I lifted my head. "I was nervous, and the owner was..."

She stared at me with a begging expression, waiting for more.

"He was just sarcastic and really... I don't know. I think he probably has a lot of HR complaints." I shrugged.

She laughed. "He hit on you?"

"He asked me to lunch." I shook my head. "But you should have been there, Ash. Funny guy, but I couldn't work with him if I had that type of weird sexual tension."

"But there's a chance you might get it, right?"

"Well, he didn't say no. He said he would call me."

She narrowed her eyes at me. "Cute."

"Get out of my apartment." I glared at her. "Really, you have your own home for a reason."

"Fine," she frowned at me. "Tell me how your other interview goes."

"Will do."