So my other two stories have to be put on hold, because my dad won't get my memory stick out of a box, and it needs to be fixed anyways. Soooooo... I'm going to work on this one that I came up with

Enjoy~

Chapter I: Hold The Elevator!
I took a deep breath and straightened my cheesy, suddenly out-of-place-on-a-Casual-Friday-on-a-Wednesday suit; this was the biggest and most important job interview I’d ever had, and I didn’t want to blow it with looking completely stupid. I mean, sure it was just a secretary position, but I think I’d be able to handle a bunch of note-taking, scheduling, and answering phone calls for a nice fat pay of $3,500 a month. Of course, any other person didn’t need that much money, but here I was, paying for an apartment (and its utilities), college, the nursing home bill for my mother’s parents, who I had been raised by, and I can’t forget the ever-annoying monthly loans my boyfriend Derek asked for.
Anyways, when I arrived at the tall multi-company housing skyscraper, I thought I had gotten lost somewhere along NYC’s busy streets. Looking down at the small map I was carrying in my bag, I realised that I was, in fact, at the correct building.

Hel-fucking-lo.

“Hold the elevator!” someone yelled, just as I was about to go up, say, 67 floors.
A large man who could take up half of the elevator all on his own pressed the hold button, and a tall, toothpick-sized man ran in; he gave the large man a sheepish grin in thanks.
“What floor?” the much larger man asked, in a voice much higher than I imagined.
“Oh, um, 67 is my floor,” the toothpick man said, nodding at the already lit button and straightening his tie.
A janitor flanking my left giggled.
“Hey, Will, looks like you’ve got some company,” he wheezed; pointing at me, he said, “this pretty lady is goin’ there, too.”
The toothpi- man called Will looked at me, surprised.
“I’ve never seen you before,” he said, raising his eyebrows. “Did you just start here?”
“Uh, no,” I said, my voice much quieter than usual – which was saying something. “I’ve got an interview today.”
Will looked at me for a while, and I felt like I was getting “the stare” from my grandparents all over again.
“I see,” he finally said, giving me a small smile. “Watch out for the boss, if you meet him. He’s a shark.”
“William, you shouldn’t speak of your superiors in such a manner,” the large man said in a parental sort of tone.
Will made a sour face and turned to the doors. We were only on floor 32.
“Maybe I wouldn’t speak of my superiors like that if I had gotten that position,” he muttered bitterly. “Everyone knows that I’ve worked here longer and much, much harder than Gabriel Saporta ever has.”
I bet Derek would be laughing crazily at Will’s choice of words, had he been in the elevator with me.
“Aye, you have,” the janitor piped up. “But maybe that’s why you didn’t get the position.”
I actually felt myself flinch at the glare Will gave the janitor, but the old man continued calmly.
“You’re about as responsible as you’re gonna get,” he said. “Mr. Saporta has a lot more to learn.”
Will clenched his jaw, and I took note that he suddenly looked a lot sadder.
“Right,” he replied. “That’s why Mr. Saporta could quite possibly get promoted to CEO, therefore getting transferred to Los Angeles, and ruining our lives from there.”
Floor 67. And I had to walk to at least the front desk with this guy.
“Well, good luck, Miss,” the janitor said happily. “I hope I get to learn your name tomorrow.”
The large man gave me an amused smile, and nodded a goodbye to Will.

The front desk was connected to the wall, with a small place to open and leave if need be. Behind it sat two office chairs, one being occupied by a gorgeous woman who somehow reminded me of a cat. She was on one of the two computers, answering one of the two phones. Her outfit was much more casual than mine or Will’s, and she looked extremely bored. Will walked right up to her, and I followed hesitantly.
“Victoria,” he said shortly, reaching in a pocket for a pen.
“Hey, one second,” she chirped before diving underneath the desk; I heard a drawer open, and right as Victoria reappeared with a clipboard, Will had pulled out his pen. He grabbed the clipboard and filled something out (I’d imagine he was clocking in) while Victoria watched him from underneath her eyelashes.
“The big guy isn’t here yet, so you’re safe,” she said suddenly, smiling sweetly at him.
“Mhmm,” Will replied, not even sparing her a glance as he concentrated on the paper.
Victoria frowned for a moment, but it disappeared quickly.
“So Bilvy,” she practically purred; Will checked his watch before returning to his writing, and I was pondering how you could get “Bilvy” out of William.
“We – that is, everyone except for Saporta – are going out for some drinks this Friday after work. You in?”
“Maybe,” Will murmured, and Victoria huffed quietly.
“Men are more likely to be left-handed than women,” I blurted out suddenly; I had been watching Will write during the entire exchange, and my brain was just bursting to relay the fact in relation.
Victoria and Will looked at me in surprise, and I looked down, blushing.
“Oh, yeah! Victoria, this woman’s here for a job interview, I… don’t know her name. But this is Victoria, she flirts with everyone,” he gestured to her, and she smiled sweetly. Turning back to me, he said, “I forgot about you, Jesus Christ,” he said, shaking his head.
“Actually, my name is Deena James, but good guess,” I joked, earning a laugh from both Victoria and Will. “My interview is with…” I pulled out the slip of paper I had written all the information on. “Gabe Saporta.”
Victoria and Will exchanged looks of sorrow before directing sympathetic faces towards me.
“For the secretary position, right?” Victoria clarified, and I nodded.
“Fuck, he’ll eat you alive,” Will said, shaking his head. Pushing the clipboard back towards Victoria, he added, “See you later, Vicky-T.”
“Bye Bilvy,” she said, grabbing the clipboard. “Think about Friday night, okay?”
I watched Victoria slump back in her chair as Will disappeared around the corner; she looked me over and brightened considerably.
“Well, Deena, I hope you get the job, at least,” she said perkily. “It’s been kinda lonely since Greta left. Boss complications, you know?”
I nodded, even though I didn’t completely comprehend it. It seemed like this Saporta man, the “big guy” around here, was a ginormous scumbag.
“But still, it’d be nice to see a fresh face, make a new best friend…” Victoria looked me over and smirked. “I bet the guys would like that. I bet,” she leaned in to whisper – “I bet Will liked it.” She grinned, looking even more catlike.
I shrugged, unsure of whether or not that was a compliment.
“Okay, then,” she continued. “Would you like to come out and get drinks with us on Friday? It can be in celebration of your new job.”
“Uh, I don’t even know if I have the job yet,” I stuttered.
Victoria smirked again, and looked me over once again.
“Oh, you’ll get the job,” she said. “Gabey baby wouldn’t say no to a jewel like you.”

I think there was one point when all of the men, excluding Will, were staring at me – but I’m pretty sure that only happened after Victoria had advised me to undo a few buttons on my shirt. After awhile they all returned to their work, but it was like I was a newly bought toy, set on the top shelf – they would keep sneaking peeks. I was about to button up my shirt again, but Victoria hurried out from behind the desk and rushed me over to Gabe Saporta’s office.
“I thought he wasn’t here yet,” I squeaked, anxiety washing over me. I really hoped Saporta was turned on by a sweating chick, because I was about to become soaked.
“He takes another way in, he’s got a private elevator – Jesus, are you sweating?” Victoria asked, giving me a look.
“Uh, yeah, kinda,” I replied, pulling out a cloth and dabbing at my neck.
Victoria paused, and then giggled; when we arrived at Saporta’s office door, she nodded to me.
“Mr. Saporta, Miss James is here for her 7:30 interview,” she said quickly before ducking out of the way.
I received a small push, and the door swung shut behind me.

I was doomed.

Gabriel Saporta was a tall man around Will’s age; his skin was about three and a half shades darker than my own ghostly pale skin, and his brown eyes had a mischievous glint to them. His mouth seemed to be in a permanent smirk, and he seemed like the only man I knew that could pull off wearing a dress shirt in that shade of purple. He looked me over in the same manner that Victoria had, and I was glad that Derek wasn’t here; if he had been, I would have most certainly lost the position due to a brawl.
“So… you’re Deena James, correct?” he said, his smirk growing wider.
I nodded, glad that I was no longer anxious. I hated him already, but Gabe had the ability to easily calm horses in a fire.
“Good, good…” Gabe picked up what seemed to be a copy of my resume and began to read. “You’re attending college?”
“Yes, sir,” I said, somehow keeping the stammer that appeared whenever I was around men out of my voice.
“And you were a secretary for… a grocery store… in Las Vegas before, yes?”
“That’s right.”
“Alright… you know what, fuck it.” He slammed down the paper and walked around his desk. “Look, we both know you want the job, and the only reason you’re acting like that is because you read fucking Cosmopolitan last month. Cut the crap and let loose a bit.”
I stared at him wide-eyed; he was more of a pervert than I had thought. Never again will I cut someone that slack – you’re either an all-out perv, or you’re not one at all.
He walked until we were face-to-face.
“Do you want the job?” he asked softly. I nodded. “Why?”
“I need the money,” I whispered.
“You got a boyfriend?”
“Yes.”
A smirk. “You’ll have to kiss me.”

As I left, I buttoned up my shirt again and readjusted the bag slung over my shoulder.
“See ya tomorrow!” Victoria called out as I walked back to the elevator.
When I got there, the large man was there again.
“Ground floor?” He asked, and I nodded.
“Thanks,” I almost whispered, reaching into my bag and pulling out a mint.
“You’re welcome,” He replied. “Congratulations on the new job.”

This message has been edited. Last edited by: RisqueDance,

NIK OOOOOOOOOOOO:
OMFG THAT'S AMAZING.
(get on AIM like NOW)

aahhh me likes it you must continue sooooon

Finishing the update, hopefully it'll be posted tomorrow

NIK.
I loooove iit.
-prays that your stick gets fixed- /innuendo unintended
UPDATE SOON.

BUT YOU TOTALLY MEANT THE INNUENDO <3
jk.

Also, I intended to update today, but I got sidetracked, and I couldn't connect to the internet on the computer that I was on anyways, so... -_-

WILL BE UP SOON 8D

Bumpety.

I've got like ten more chapters already written out, so that's no problem. This thing literally wrote itself. All I need is to be able to connect to the internet with the computer that the document is on, so I'm just missing that one final screw.

Fifty points if you can name the song that the last part of the sentence was in. And ten more if you can name the artist.

Chapter II: Three Months, Three Years
“So you’re going to work… tomorrow.” Derek wasn’t asking – I could tell he was upset about this. “I wanted to spend time with you, though.”
I heard him sigh over the phone, and my mind went into damage control mode.
“I’ve been invited to go out for drinks with my new co-workers on Friday, I can see if you could come along,” I offered, but I knew it would be a lost cause before I even said it.
“Deena, that’s between fucking co-workers,” he whined back, and I took the opportunity to roll my eyes, glad he couldn’t see me through the phone.
Oh, curse the day that video phones are available to the public.
“Look Derek, I’m sorry. What can I do to try and fix this?” I asked, stopping to lean against a conveniently placed fence.
“You can’t fix having that… that guy as your boss,” he snapped, and I detected an unhealthy helping of jealousy in his voice. “And is it necessary to go on Friday?”
I paused, frowning. “Derek, I hardly ever go out anymore. Just for fun, you know?”
“Oh, so going out with me isn’t fun anymore?”
Not really. “You know that’s not what I meant, D.”
“Save it, Deena,” Derek said, fuming. I heard a click, and the line went dead.

Well, shit. I guess I’ll just eat lunch out.

I strolled over to a small café, where I was handed a cute little menu; the waitress walked away, and I considered leaving a tip after I finished.
I had barely examined the “Clubhouse Burger & Fries” description when I heard a familiar voice in front of me.
“The deli subs are good,” Will said. It took me a moment to realise that it was, in fact, lunch – therefore, some would be leaving the office.
Inwardly shaking off the lunchtime mindfuck, I looked up at him and gave a half smile.
“Really? I think I’ll try one, then,” I said lightly, folding up my menu. “Would you like to join me?”
I think I surprised the both of us – me because A) I hardly ever did that, and B) I hardly knew this dude from Adam, or in our case Gabe – and he might have been because not only were we only acquaintances, but B) looking at this guy, he didn’t seem the type to get invited places by co-workers outside of the office, and so spontaneously, too. Still, I felt it necessary to be polite, and he was sitting down anyways.
“So,” I said, leaning forward and putting on a work/game face. “What should I be expecting?”
Will rolled his eyes, a ghost of a smirk on his face.
“More of what you’ve already gotten, probably,” he said. “You and Victoria get into the office before anyone else on floor 67. You answer phone calls, and the more guys that come in each day, the more you’ll be hit on. Then Saport-ass comes in and says really creepy stuff, heads to his office, and a few hours later it’ll be lunchtime. Rinse, repeat.”
“I see,” I replied, examining a hole in the lace tablecloth. “How long has Saporta been… you know?”
“He only just got promoted,” Will answered, stone-faced. “Three months ago. He’s been around for only about a year, more or less.”
“Oh… how long have you worked there?” I asked, unsure of how rocky the ground I stood on was.
“Three years. It’s still a new company, but I’m one of the only original employees left, along with Victoria and Brendon. Everyone else either left or was fired when Gabe got promoted. Take Greta, for instance: she was hired around the time that I was, and she left only last week. Gabe crossed a line.” By now, Will looked absolutely pissed. “And everyone saw it. He’ll deny it, but why else would she leave? Fuck, she loved the job. It was weird – she had this thing where answering phones was fun to her. And she loved taking notes and scheduling shit… Greta was made for that job.”
The waitress arrived and took our orders, and when she left us, I nodded for Will to continue.
“Really, Gabe’s made the whole business a living hell for everyone working there. Either you’re talking about someone behind their back with him, or he’s talking about you. He calls me ‘toothpick’,” he added bitterly, and I felt a strange sensation of guilt.
“I have a hyperactive thyroid, it’s genetic. Gabe acts like it’s some sort of airborne virus, though. It’s his excuse for avoiding me sometimes. ‘I don’t want to catch your eating disorder’,” Will added, doing an almost perfect (albeit more comical) imitation of our boss.
“What a dick,” I muttered, finding the similarities between Gabe and Derek suddenly disgusting. I hadn’t considered before that Derek could be so cruel.
We ate in mostly silence, every once in awhile asking and answering things; I almost forgot that I still had to go to the market for groceries, and Will had to get back to work.
“See you tomorrow,” I said, and he nodded, smiling.

“LUNCH?!” Derek’s voice was amplified times ten in my practically empty apartment.
“Yes, Derek, lunch.” I dropped my keys on the counter and pulled off my suit jacket to toss on my bed. “Christ, you’re overreacting.”
“I’m not overreacting,” Derek said, following me to my room. “You’re the one going around with guys behind my back, like you’re some kind of doll.”
“Okay,” I snapped, turning to face him; “A, doll? And B, I’m not going around behind your back. You’re my boyfriend, you should know I’m not the kind of person who does that.”
“Right, I should believe this.” He sounded disgusted. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Deena. If I see you at all.”

Would I sound like a dick if I said I was happy that he was leaving?

NIK
YOU
ARE
GOD
IN EVERYWAY AND FORM

Not even Andy can match up to you.
And fuck, he's Vegan Jesus.

I LOVE YOU
*glomps into friday*

=D

Do you want an update??? *Can provide this*

best random story idea ever!

can i has update please because this one was aaaaammmmaaaazzzzziiiinnnnngggggg

*Feels the love*

This is an amazing thing

On to the next one, then!

Chapter III: Death’s Preferable
Victoria had invited herself over early on the morning of my first day – too early. She claimed it was to assist with my wardrobe, but I knew I was right to prepare for more when I found her outside my door with a large makeup kit in hand.
“Oh come on, Deena,” she said later, smearing something on my cheeks. “You’ve got to learn how to look the part of sexy… voila!”
“But I’m not sexy,” I said, relieved to see that she was closing up the bag. “And give me that mirror, I’m not going to work without seeing how stupid you made me look.”
Victoria rolled her eyes and pulled out a mirror, which I obligingly took.

Surprise, surprise. I didn’t look half bad.

My normally messy jet black hair was pulled back into a sleek high ponytail, and Victoria had been nice enough to pin my bangs back neatly with a small clip-in bow; my eyelids were a sparkly purple, and a thin line of kohl eyeliner made my brown eyes stand out. Thankfully, Victoria hadn’t gone too far with the blush, but it added a bit of colour to my ghostly white skin, and my lips were only tinted slightly darker, and a bit of gloss had been added for “shine”.
“See? I didn’t make you look stupid,” Victoria said triumphantly. She took the mirror back and slipped it back into the bag, adding, “Now that I’ve had my way with you, you’re free to call me Vicky-T.”
“Okay…” I then thought of something amusing. “I’m assuming that you didn’t put makeup on Will.”
A dirty smirk appeared on the cat-like face. “No.”
And that’s all she would say on the subject.

Apparently the men who went into work didn’t find me half bad either, because they were fighting to get to my line. Vicky-T didn’t seem troubled by this fact, because it meant less work for her. I eventually just kept my clipboard on the desk, saving myself future bills from my non-existent chiropractor.
The first man to flirt with me that day was a guy named Brendon, and he seemed to be an expert of the art. He also didn’t seem like a jerk when I said I had a boyfriend – he didn’t say I had to kiss him, at least.
“It’s okay,” He said with an easy grin. “I’ve got my own girl waiting for me at home. You do look very nice today, though.”
I nodded and smiled in thanks, and the next few guys came in to try and seduce me in the workspace.
After it seemed that everyone had clocked in, I turned to see a very troubled Vicky-T.
“What’s up?” I asked, rolling my chair over to her so we wouldn’t have to be too loud. Vicky-T looked at me with a frown, and I wondered what could suddenly make her so worried.
“Bilvy’s not here yet,” she said in a pained voice. “Usually he and Ryland are the first ones here, but even Suarez beat Will in.”
“Okay, maybe he got a little sidetracked by something… traffic was shit today, wasn’t it?” I asked; Vicky-T gave me a glare, so I backtracked.
“Or, he got hit by a car,” I said. “Or he was mugged, or his apartment building collapsed, and… and… he didn’t make it,” I made a dramatic gasp and made a pose that would make drama queen proud.
“I bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you, Vicky-T?” Will said, trudging over to us. His hair was wet, as was a majority of his outfit. A grin unfurled on my face as I rolled back to my spot, but a faux pout stayed put on my only female co-worker.
“You had me worried,” Vicky-T said, resting her head on her arms. I set out the clipboard for Will to sign, and he pulled out the pen he had yesterday to fill it out.
“I almost did get hit by a car, though,” Will said casually; water was dripping all over the desk and the clipboard. “Three, actually. It started raining buckets, and there was a pile-up.”
“Holy shit! Are you okay?” Vicky-T literally jumped up; she began examining Will with such little distance between them, it was hard to believe that Vicky-T hadn’t gone at him with a mascara wand.
Or vice versa, if you know what I mean.
“I’m fine, seriously,” Will said impatiently, gently throwing her off to continue writing. “I said almost. All is well.”
“Well, you look the part,” I commented. “You’re in one piece, at least.”
This earned me a glare and two laughs.
Two…?
“You’re funny, Dee,” Gabe said, strutting up. “Truth is like that, I guess.”
I went still, helpless as Vicky-T muttered something about the loo, and Will went absolutely statuesque.
“So, then,” our boss said, taking Vicky-T’s seat behind the desk and spinning around a bit. “How was last night?” A grin my way. “Did ya miss me?”
“Not really,” I said, slowly rolling my chair away from him. “I was actually sleeping.”
Gabe gave me a dumbfounded look. “But this is NYC, love,” he said. “The city that never sleeps. Never.”
“I’m sorry for being a human,” I said lightly, turning away from him to address Will. “Do you need a towel?”
“Probably,” he muttered after a moment, coming out of his paralyzed stance. “Yeah, that’s a good idea, thanks.”
“I might,” Gabe commented, his eyes on my back. “If you know what I mean.”
Will gave me an “I told you so” face, and I raised an eyebrow.
“I’ll be right back,” I said, looking at Saporta from the corner of my eye. “Will, you should probably come with me… to an area where you can’t electrocute yourself.”
“I’ll wait for yooooou,” Gabe sang out, and I rolled my eyes.

We passed Vicky-T on our way to the “closet” (a room with blankets, towels and the like – for employees who felt it necessary to spend the night there… which wasn’t often); she was reading a magazine, so we didn’t bother her.
In the closet, I grabbed a few towels and took them over to a now seated Will, who accepted them gratefully.
“Thanks, Deena,” he mumbled, clutching the large pieces of fabric.
“You’re welcome,” I said, looking along the rows of items on the shelves.
“I’m just glad you didn’t tell me to take my clothes off,” Will said tiredly, and I let out a small laugh.
“Well, getting hypothermia or pneumonia isn’t exactly the healthiest way to get out of work, but it’s foolproof,” I joked; Will smiled and halfheartedly began to dry his hair.
“Nah, death’s preferable,” he replied wryly, and I grinned.

As promised, Gabe was waiting for us when we returned, except he wasn’t behind the desk anymore (thankfully). Vicky-T was seated once more, and was reading her magazine there.
“Hey, boo,” Gabe cooed to me, and I had to repress a large shudder. I sat down at my chair, and gave him a stern look.
“If you work here, you have to sign in,” I said; being a jackass to him wouldn’t hurt my chances of staying.
Will smirked as he went to his cubicle, and Vicky-T was grinning behind her Chanel No. 5 ad.
Gabe stared at me for a moment, his goofy grin always in place, before leaning down to sign.
When he finished, I grabbed the clipboard and placed it in my top drawer.
As he passed Will’s section, he called out, “Hey, Becky! I need you in my office!”
Silence.
“Beck. Ett. My office.”
“Oh, you’re talking to me? I thought you were talking to Becky,” Will said snidely. A mouse clicked and Will, who was only inches shorter than Gabe, stood up to look him in the eyes.

The next day, Will didn’t come to work.

oh no will got sacked. . .idk why i love Gabe's pervertedness.

LOLOL GABE

...Shame about Bilvy. *Crocodile tears*


NIK
I LOVE YOU
Wanna update?
=D