Loving the Heartless Billionaire

28: Wasted Talent

"You, little one get me a coffee", she barked as I raced to grab her a coffee, it was my first day and I was being treated like an assistant, I didn't mind it. Paris Grant was an icon in the column and journalist world, yes she was in charge of the girly columns, but she wrote a beautiful piece overlooking the world that inspired me to even start on this career path and after school, I was done with waiting.

I handed her the steaming cup and she drank a sip and spit it out over the meeting's manuscripts.

"Penelo-", she began saying and looked at my earnest face and a feeling of shock came over her.

"You're not Penelope, my assistant", she asked and I shook my head, not knowing how to form sentences let alone words.

"No, I'm not, but you looked like you needed a coffee and I didn't know which one to get you", I tried explaining and she picked up the file that wasn't drenched in coffee.

"You're that writer, who made that piece on the differences of waves, it was in-depth, yet it related to the topic without making it messy, what are you doing here?", she asked looking at me for an answer.

"My professor told me this would be a good place to start, and he told me I would be working under you", I asked as she walked fast to her office.

"You have potential dear, this men's magazine is not the place for you", she told me as she shut the door after following her inside.

"I want to work under you, and I want to work here", I told her as she looked at me unbelievably.

"Look around the building, you and I are the only women here. Some of these men don't even believe women should write, the column would be about the same thing how to make your wife happy, the only article in the damn magazine written by a women", she cursed loudly and I could tell that was something on her mind often.

"I read your article and this isn't a place to grow, this article is all we would be working on, forget about the political articles you've been wanting to write or dreams of anything else, you'll never be able to write that here. I mean why do you think I work here, do you think I want to be undermined by every man that turns down my ideas, it's all about them here, the magazine is directed towards them, for them, and my husband to keep up relations makes me stay in this miserable job, he turns down everything and anything I try to write that makes me sound intelligent, he is the bare reason why there isn't a single girl in here, except for you it turns out", she ranted for a moment and took a deep breathe.

"I'm so sorry, I don't normally act like that", she said and I knew the pressure of everyone else was getting to her head.

"Now let's get down to why you're here", she said sitting down in her large chair.

"My professor told me-", I began saying as she rolled her eyes.

"Halcomb is his name correct, that foolish  man, I've been talking to him for years now complaining to him about wanting to be more than just the big man upstair's wife and he sent you to fish me out and it may just work", she told and I remembered him speaking about her with flow and meaning.

"I hate seeing other people being treated poorly by men more than I hate seeing myself being treated this way", she told me and picked up her pages for the coffee-soaked papers and took them to her balcony.

"And I hate seeing talent wasted, so go write me an article about sexist men, if it's golden I'll find a way to sneak it in the paper", she said and hinted at me as I joined her in the fresh breeze.

"And I promise you I will try to get you introduced to every big name source I know, we'll get you another job, but in the meantime while you're also writing about the sexist men get me some new ideas on how to make your wife happy, I swear I'm not happy in my marriage should I even be writing this column?", she asked leaning on the banister and she lit her cigar and offered me one, which I refused.