Chapter 5

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     Laying my head down into my crisscrossed arms, I let my eyes droop closed. I was still at the office trying to catch up on all my work. Cathy thought I was crazy to respond to everybody, but it felt nice when I was able to help people with their problems. Barb had finally left around nine after trying to pull me away, but I obviously won that battle. I got so many female visitors today it was nuts! None of them even paid attention to me, too busy taking in Nathaniel.

     I had almost nodded off when the smell of coffee passed by my caffeine deprived body. Bolting upright, I spotted the culprit holding what I needed most. Nathaniel stood there in the same outfit he had this morning, the only change being that he no longer had on the blue and white checkered button up. He had exchanged that for a muscle shirt that made my breathe catch in my throat.

     “What are you doing here?” I ask staring at his arms. Damn this boy had everything!

     “Barb called me and said you were probably still here. Here ya go,” he said coming over to sit one of his coffees on my desk. “Barb said you normally get a tall, half 1 percent, two shots latte, four shots caramel, and two shots of pure caffeine with whip?” Nathaniel said, but coming out more of a question. I had to laugh at how ridiculous my favorite drink sounded coming from someone else, “Aw man! I knew I got something wrong.” His cute little face turned into a pouty one, which only made me laugh harder. 

     “I-its fine,” I barely got out between laughs, “It’s just, it sounds so ridiculous coming out of someone else’s mouth. You probably think I act like some stuck up high school girl just by ordering that.”

     “Nah it was cool. And you don’t sound stuck up, just very into what you do.” 

     I was kind of touched by his little insight. “Thanks,” I mumbled while blushing.

     “So what are we doing?” he ask coming behind my desk. 

     “Don’t you mean what am I doing?” I ask taking a sip of heaven in a cup.

     “No, I came here to help. So what are we doing?” He ask again while trying to see what was on my computer. 

     “Ok, looks like we need to talk,” I motioned for him to take a seat in front of me. Instead he hopped up on top of my desk. I just glared at him as he gave a little chuckle at my dislike, “Ok first of all, there is no way that I will be using any of your material until you show me how much you want this. I have to know how far you’re willing to go for this, and not only that but how well you write. When someone reads something they have two main reactions: 1) they like it or don’t 2) the advice helps them in some way. I take this job seriously, and I won’t hesitate to fire you if you don’t take these ladies problems seriously.”

     “Don’t worry; I will take this job seriously. So I’m gonna take a guess and say that you don’t trust me very much. In my last placement, my boss decided I was trying to steal her job and a whole bunch of other stuff. So she fired me on grounds of sexual harassment. This is the first big job I’ve gotten in about, oh say, six years. All I want to say is please don’t feel threatened by me. I’m here to observe, learn, and improve. I know I’m about two years older than you so this may get to be awkward sometimes, but I really hope that you give me a chance.”  

     My brain was banging against my skull. Ok, so he wasn’t here to take my job, but he wanted to see how I worked? That was a little fishy for me. I mean I was completely ok with him not wanting my job, but if he didn’t want my job why didn’t he just learn from someone older, not younger!

     “Alright, so how did you get into journalism?” I ask, wanting to suss him out.  

     “Well,” he began hopping up off of the desk, only to sit down in one of the two armchairs in front of me, “I guess it all started when my fiancée cheated on me with my best friend. I wasn’t dealing with what happened, so my brother sat me down in front of some paper and told me to write. Write about anything that came to me, anything that I was feeling, and anything that felt right. He’s probably why I hate therapists so much. Anyway, that’s how I got into writing. It’s a pretty gay sounding, but that’s what happened,” he wrapped up while looking at his hands.

     “Nah, it don’t sound too gay. It’s actually a pretty good reason. You have a brother?” I inquired wondering why I hadn’t been informed of this from Barb.  

     “Sorry, one question at a time doll. It’s your turn to tell me how you got into writing.”

     “What?! No way! That’s not fair,” I protested although I knew he probably wouldn’t budge. 

     “You’re sussing me out. It’s only fair that I suss you out, too,” he explained cocking an eyebrow. It was almost as sexy as Landon’s signature smirk.

     “Alright, punk. How did I get into journalism….?” How did I get into writing? I already knew how I ended up loving to write. The question was would he know if I lied? Going with my gut, I decided on telling the truth, “Well, you had betrayal and heartache, I had betrayal, heartache, and a broken home. Our family was running out of money, and my mom was working four jobs trying to support us. So when I saw a reward of $5,000 dollars for this writing contest I jumped at it. In school I hated writing, but when you’re doing it for something important and meaningful it changes the perspective in which you view things,” I said whispering the last part. Tears were beginning to prick at my eyes. Looking back was too hard. 

     “I’m so sorry Ms. Stacy,” and suddenly I was enveloped in a hug. I smiled a little at the fact that I had been wrong in my judgment of Nathaniel.

     “Please just call me Beth, and it’s alright Nathaniel,” I whispered breaking away from him. “So your question?” I asked with a shaky laugh.  

     “Yea, I guess. And if I’m calling you Beth, then you get to call me Nate or Nathan. I always hated my full name. Anyway, you said you “us” when you were talking. Who’s us?”

     “Well Nate, “us” would be myself, my older brother, and older sister. My brother Tommy is the eldest, then my sister Rachel, but everybody calls her Rach. Now, who’s this brother you were talking about? The therapist?” I asked, while I saw a grimace, then a smile replace that.  

     “That would be Leo. He uses therapy all the time, BUT is also really good at hiding when he is doing it. Its quite annoying,” he wrapped up rolling his eyes.

     And that’s how my first work day went with Nathaniel Green. God, he was still hot.

~~~~~~

Alright so I am gonna set some goals. If I could get 100 reads on this chapter and the last then I would upload ASAP!! But sinc I am going to be gone for this week that gives more time for anyone following to recommend this story to anyone! That would be great!!

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love and peace!!

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