fulfilling than marketing copy and praying for the “latest and greatest” to distract me from my doubts.
****
My Monday morning was shaping up to be as manic as the Bangles once purported. For starters, I forgot to brush my teeth, locked myself out of my car—Kendra clicked the unlock button of my spare key into her cell phone and it totally worked—and accidentally called three of my interns by the wrong name. Honestly, one of them had to be named Fred. Why else would I get that name stuck in my head? Anyway, by ten, I was being punished for breathing by the world’s most slovenly boss.
Marty Bensen was having another one of his fits and this time, I was the target.
“Monroe,” he yelled across his office, without offering me a seat. I sat down anyway, just as he crumpled up a piece of paper and threw it at me. I caught it in the air and smoothed it across my lap. “Did you approve this garbage? Who wrote that piece of shit?”
“I’ll speak to Jake,” I said evenly. Working my boss through his fits of rage was an art form, one that advanced me from intern to assistant in seven years. Sometimes it was completely demeaning, but I managed. After all, I wouldn’t work for him forever. Eventually, I’d get promoted out from underneath him or he’d drop dead from all the donuts he ate. “I’m sure it’s just a misunderstanding. I’ll handle it today.”
“Oh you’ll handle it, all right.” He stood up, sending a cascade of crumbs to the floor. His poorly gelled comb-over bobbed forward with every syllable. “Or I’ll have your ass.”
“Not to worry, Mr. Bensen,” I smiled at him, keeping my voice steady. “Jake’s new. He probably misunderstood how things work around here.”
“Unacceptable. I don’t want any more unedited garbage on my desk, understood?” He sniffed, sitting back down. The leather groaned beneath his weight and the wheels buckled. If he ever broke that chair in front of me, I don’t think I’d be able to stop laughing. “We’re paying you too much to roll in unprepared writers, sweetheart.”
I swallowed my anger. “I’ll speak to Jake right now, before I do another thing today.”
He surveyed me from head to toe with a cringe-worthy stare. “Very good.”
“It’s no problem, Mr. Bensen.”
“Now get going. Oh, and Monroe,” he called after me, already on my way out. “Don’t know what I’d do without you.”
He winked at me, his usual dismissal. When I reached a spot out of his line of sight, I smoothed my pencil skirt, wiped away the sweat from my palms, and straightened my spine. Marty Bensen could say whatever he wanted, but I knew I was damn good at my job and didn’t deserve to be treated like a pretty piece of eye candy. Tomorrow, I resolved, I’d wear something dowdy to work. Something completely unappealing, just to see how he would treat me.
If only I owned something dowdy.
I sighed, took another second to collect myself. When I was ready, I marched straight to the marketing department cubicles to get my hands on Jake Tisdale, who would pay the price for my unpleasant Marty time. On the way, I invited Savannah to lunch, then wiped the smile from my face and gestured with one finger for Jake to follow me to my office. Like a well-trained puppy, he trotted along at my heels, effortlessly maintaining my heated clip down the hallway.
“Jake, sit,” I commanded, pointing one finger to the blue wing-backed chair in my office. I tossed the balled-up page into his hands. “Explain.”
He stuttered his way through a list of lame excuses, promised to rewrite it, and swore it would never happen again. I liked Jake, an intern only a few years younger than myself, stuck on a rung of the corporate ladder I knew all too well. He was bright, he was good at his job, but he was bored.
“Listen, Jake, I really want to help you move up and out, but if your work
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