Take My Hand, Just Hold On

The rest of the evening was spent driving around the city; Robert giving me the ins-and-outs of the city. Where to go, where to avoid, etc. He pointed to a nice town just outside the city that looked like modern suburbia, "A good friend of mine just bought a house in there."

I had to laugh at this and ask, "Do all your friends have families?!"

Robert glances over at me and gives me a half-smile, "He's a single guy. Recently came into some money and doesn't particularly like living right in the city."

I nod, I could understand that. The city is definitely not for everyone. I could never make up my mind about whether or not I liked living in cities. Visiting them was always fun, but actually living in them was sometimes draining.

We drove through Hollywood a bit. He pointed out places he avoided unless he wanted to be bombarded by photographers for some reason.

And then at 11, we made our way back to my apartment. I invited him inside, and he readily accepted the invitiation.

***

The next morning I woke with my alarm at 7:00. I turned it off quickly, letting the gorgeous man next to me sleep a little longer, whilst I jumped in the shower. I jumped out 10 minutes later, wrapped a towel around myself and snuck quietly back in my bedroom, where Robert was still fast asleep - although, sprawled across the entire bed now that I wasn't next to him.

I laughed quietly to myself and slipped on my underwear and a medium length black skirt - business attire for work. I refrained from putting on a shirt quite yet, as I always had a bad habit of spilling shit in the mornings.

I walked out to the kitchen, rummaging in my bare cupboards for something edible. Nothing. I hadn't even bought any cereal yet. I grabbed an apple from my new fruit bowl and took a bite. I wandered into the living room and sat on the couch, wondering what my day was going to be like. I turned the TV on and noise blasted at me - I quickly fumbled for the volume and ended up turning it up louder in the process. I finally found the right button and turned it way down, but the damage was done. I heard groaning and footsteps in the hallway.

"What was that?" Robert asked, running his hands through his terrible bed-head, trying to flatten it.

I smiled sheepishly, "Sorry, must've had the volume on the TV up really loud last I was watching it."

He shrugs, "S'all right. That your breakfast?" he asks, nodding toward the half-finished apple in my hand.

"I haven't gotten around to do much grocery shopping," I explain, taking another bite.

"You want to go out for breakfast? I can drop you at work on my way back to the hotel," he suggests.

I start nodding, "Sure. But how will I get home after work?"

"I can come pick you up when you get off - what time, 5:00?"

"Yeah. Are you sure, though? Three days in row, Robert - don't you think that's getting a little too serious?" I ask, smirking.

He laughs, "I'm not the one who set the ground rules, love," he pauses. "Plus, if I've only got three weeks with you, I want to see you as much as possible."

I smile, "You're awfully smooth, Robert Pattinson. Comes with the territory of being gorgeous, I suppose! But I'd love to see you after work today. Who knows, I might need a good few drinks in me and need a designated driver!"

He puts on a face of mock-hurt, "So what - I'm just your chauffeur now, am I?"

I give a non-commital shrug and turn back to the TV.

Robert had a quick shower and took me to a small diner near my apartment for breakfast - I insisted on paying, much to Robert's dismay, saying that it was my fault I had no food in my place to offer for breakfast.

He dropped me outside my new work building at 8:45 and gave me a short kiss and a "Good luck" before I left his car.

"Thanks. I'll see you at 5, then?"

He nods and I shut the door, smile, and give a tiny wave goodbye.

I walk into the building and up to the pretty brunette receptionist, "Hi, I'm hear to meet with Tom Jackson, I believe? I'm just starting the internship today."

She nods, "And your name?"

"Brenna Saunders."

"Perfect, thank you very much Brenna. Please, have a seat with the others. I will give Tom a call for you."

I smile, "Thanks." And then, "Er, are the other two-" I point to the two people behind me- "doing the same internship as me, or do you know?"

The receptionist smiles, "I believe you and the other young lady are in the same program. The gentleman is going into the art department. Though the two of you will have seperate people guiding you through the internship. You're lucky to get Tom though, he is - in most people's opinion - the best at his job."

I smile at her, "Okay, thanks again."

She nods and picks up the phone. I walk to the seat between the other two starting today and give them both a small smile before putting my bag at my feet and letting my mind wander while I waited for this Tom Jackson person to come get me. It wandered almost immediately to Robert. Nothing in particular about him, just remembering certain smiles he has, the fact he's always running his hands through his hair - I remember hearing something about his hair, probably from my younger sister, and thought maybe this was it.

I wasn't left long to thinking about him, however. A man came in looking around quickly before walking up to us, "Greg?" he inquires, looking at the man beside me. He nods and gets up, "Douglas, am I right?" The other man nods and beckons him toward the door, "I thought we'd just go over some of the more urgent matters first and then give you a quick tour of the company," he started saying, as they walked back through the door he came through.

Next was a woman who came down looking for the girl on the other side of me - she, instead, offered a tour of the place and then to go over some of the "contractual agreements" as they exited the room.

I was then left with 5 minutes on my own, waiting for this Tom person to arrive. I couldn't complain though, as he came down nearly just as the clock struck 9:00. He entered the room with a smile on his face, "Brenna?" he questions, walking up to me.

I nod, smiling back, "Yes. And you must be Mr. Jackson?"

"That's me, but Tom is fine," I nod in acknowledgment as I get out of my chair, shaking his hand. "We spoke over the phone a few times, yes?"

"I believe so, yes. At least once - you're head of the department, right?"

He nods, "Correct! So I figured today we'd just sort of discuss a bit of the layout of the program. I'd answer any questions you may have. I know the others usually like to do a bit of a tour of the place, but it's not too large, and it's pretty easy to figure out. Plus, I think they give you one in orientation - which will be this wednesday, I believe. But I will certainly double check on that for you."

I was trying to take in the surroundings while we walked to his office, which was up two flights of stairs and out to the left. "So, this is the editing department. Junior editors on that side of the room, senior editors along the back, there, and then my office right here," he said, opening his door. "And next to me is sort of the liason between the editing department and the actual publishing department. He makes sure all the numbers are there, and he's on us if we're not doing our job right, that sort of thing. You won't have to worry about him. He mostly gets angry at me and then I have to discuss it with everyone else," he winks and gestures for me to step into his office.