Flawed Perfection (Beautifully Flawed, #1)

Chapter Seven

When I graduated college I'd been lucky. Under some act of God the internship I had during college turned permanent. The salary was a bit low for someone with a Bachelor's Degree, but it paid the bills, and I wasn't about to sit in my parent's basement and sulk because I wasn't making a 100K like I was promised. I wasn't even making half of that. I stared at the computer screen, puzzled for a moment that I ever believed that crock of shit. I sat back—at least I had a job, and one I loved to boot.

Life could be a lot worse.

"What you working on in there?" Jesse, my boss, interrupted.

I found myself looking over my shoulder at him as he entered my office. My desk faced the window and my back to the door because of the amount of people who always walked by and looked in. I could shut the door, but to the side of it was a wall of windows, so I could never escape from prying eyes unless I had my back facing the door. This way I also had a great view of the window. The only downside was I never knew when my boss was coming in, like now.

I looked at the two computer screens; one displaying the company I was working on branding with signs, and the other displaying the photo editing software I was working in.

"Just working on the ad campaign for Lovely Rags—that big high-end thrift shop we're working with," I explained as I pointed to the photographs.

"Nice, did those come from Joe?" he asked, leaning closer to look at them.

"Yeah," I answered, trying to keep my mouth shut.

The quality we were getting from our photographer had gone downhill substantially. I had bit my tongue because I didn't feel it was my place, but I knew the core values of the company weren't being met by this quality anymore. Our marketing firm edged itself in the marketplace by not using stock photography and by creating custom advertisements that no one else could give clients, along with our quantified measurements of the results of the campaigns amongst other advice. The product Joe was delivering was lackluster at best, so the advertisements reflected that.

Jesse shook his head as he came around to the front of my desk and took a seat.

"I have a proposition for you," he said as he tucked his chin in his hand.

"Yes?"

"Joe's quality is...lacking lately, but the matter has been taken out of my hands. He was supposed to show for a photo shoot for Sincere—that huge client with the pricey salons—he didn't show and neither did his models," Jesse explained, leaning forward with a smile that didn't match the situation.

"I need those photographs today to get the advertisements designed for the grand opening in two weeks! I have to get the ads to the printer, the files to the website developers—and the canvas company for the giclée prints!" I threw my hands up and sunk into my chair.

"Don't panic." He paused for effect, and I couldn't help the widening of my eyes as I waited for him to continue. "I do have a solution."

"And what's that?"

Jesse put his hands on my desk, and the smile he gave me was full of teeth almost as white as his shirt. "You took some classes on photography, right?"

I narrowed my eyes at him, turning my head slightly as I replied, "Yeah...I had some prints in a gallery, actually."

Jesse leaned back in the chair, his hands forming a triangle in front of his face. "I have a credit card with your name on it begging for a camera to be purchased. I want you to be our photographer. Joe was overpriced anyways, and you deserve a raise. If all goes well—your name plate," he said, pushing it with his hand; "will change drastically, along with your paycheck."

My head jerked back. "What?"

"You—Lead Brand Expert and Photographer."

"Me?"

Jesse stood and pulled a sapphire credit card from his suit, placing it on my desk with a wink. "It has a two thousand dollar limit, get whatever you need."

I stared at the shimmering card for a moment before picking it up and running my hands over the raised numbers and below them, my name. My "basket-weaving" classes as Dad called them would finally be paying off.

I picked up my phone with shaking hands and dialed the number of someone I knew could help me. "Hey, Bobby?"