Queenie
Editor
Marilyn sat at her small desk in the tiny corner office on her floor. It was crammed up against the far wall and there was very little room for the desk, let alone her. She leaned over the proofs, editing the articles for the current issue. Being second editor had some benefits, but this office space definitely was not one of them! With red marker in hand, Marilyn confidently crossed out a few misplaced words here and there, and leaned back in her chair, sighing with content, when she finished.
Placing the edited copy back on the desk, she glanced around the tiny office and smiled. It hadn't been long since little Marilyn Morrison had started working at Men's Health magazine as a coffee girl, when she came around a discarded article in the trash. She had some free time, grabbed a pen from a nearby desk and began to edit the article. If she hadn't picked it out of the trash, or taken the time to edit, she would still be the P.A. for everyone in the office.
Editing the article was easy, considering it was well written to begin with; all it lacked was a little pizzazz. She spiced up the article a bit and mistakenly had it in her hand the moment she handed over her boss's coffee. He grabbed it from her hand and looked it over. Glancing up from the article, he stared at her. He made her talk about the fact that she edited the article and did a superb job. A week later, the second lead editor position was given to Marilyn and she had her own "office".
A knock sounded on the door and her boss, Jared, poked his head into the space. "Hey. I have an assignment for you. Greenburg dropped out at the last minute, something about flight not being connected; can you cover and go to this interview?"
Marilyn felt her mouth drop. She stared at Jared and pointed at herself, mouthing "Me?"
He laughed at her, "Yes you. You are a great writer and you have proved it repeatedly. Why do you think you were promoted so easily?" He glanced down at his watch, "I need you to go home, shower and get dolled up. Wear something sophisticated and be at Le Tournebièvre at seven sharp, understand? Do this and you could see yourself with even more responsibility!"
Marilyn snapped out of her daze and began placing the completed prints into a separate folder. "You act like I want more responsibility. Editing is hard enough as it is!" She said, looking up at Jared. He simply winked at her. She grabbed her coat from the chair and placed he jacket over her shoulders, "So, what do I need to wear?"
Jared shrugged, "Nothing over the top but something pretty." She nodded and she walked past him out into the hallway. He laughed at her enthusiasm, "Have fun and good luck! He's a charmer!"
Marilyn waved him off and exited the building. She hailed a cab to the nearest subway platform and boarded the train. Twenty minutes later, the train stopped at her station and she exited to the surface. She arrived at her apartment and immediately walked to her closet, picking out an outfit. Satisfied with her choice, she grabbed a towel and headed into the bathroom. When she emerged, she quickly dried her hair, set her curlers and then began on her makeup. Wrapping the towel tightly around her, she exited the bathroom and began to dress.
She stepped out of her apartment and onto the street wearing her favorite grey mid-thigh sweater dress, leggings and her brown knee-high leather boots. She hailed a cab with ease and gave the cab driver her destination. They sat in traffic for a few minutes and as she paid the driver, she glanced at her watch and noticed she arrived nearly twenty minutes early.
Entering the restaurant, she gave the maître d' her name and he escorted her to a small table at the back of the restaurant. Killing time, she picked up the menu and slowly scanned through the menu.
"Excuse me, Miss...?"
Marilyn lowered her menu and could feel the muscles in her jaw begin to loosen. 'Smile stupid'. She gave him her best smile to prevent her mouth from falling open, "Hello, can I help you?" The man towered over the table, and she pushed her chair back to stand. He smiled in return; his straight white teeth sparkled in the low light. His dark skin offset his gorgeous cerulean blue eyes.
"You don't look like a Marcum Greenburg..."
Marilyn felt her cheeks turn a light shade of pink, "No, I'm his replacement. He is currently stuck in Florida." The man nodded, "And your name is..?"
"Marilyn Morrison, pleasure to meet you..?" She asked, extending her hand to him. He smiled at her and took her hand in his, "Chris. Chris Pine."
Placing the edited copy back on the desk, she glanced around the tiny office and smiled. It hadn't been long since little Marilyn Morrison had started working at Men's Health magazine as a coffee girl, when she came around a discarded article in the trash. She had some free time, grabbed a pen from a nearby desk and began to edit the article. If she hadn't picked it out of the trash, or taken the time to edit, she would still be the P.A. for everyone in the office.
Editing the article was easy, considering it was well written to begin with; all it lacked was a little pizzazz. She spiced up the article a bit and mistakenly had it in her hand the moment she handed over her boss's coffee. He grabbed it from her hand and looked it over. Glancing up from the article, he stared at her. He made her talk about the fact that she edited the article and did a superb job. A week later, the second lead editor position was given to Marilyn and she had her own "office".
A knock sounded on the door and her boss, Jared, poked his head into the space. "Hey. I have an assignment for you. Greenburg dropped out at the last minute, something about flight not being connected; can you cover and go to this interview?"
Marilyn felt her mouth drop. She stared at Jared and pointed at herself, mouthing "Me?"
He laughed at her, "Yes you. You are a great writer and you have proved it repeatedly. Why do you think you were promoted so easily?" He glanced down at his watch, "I need you to go home, shower and get dolled up. Wear something sophisticated and be at Le Tournebièvre at seven sharp, understand? Do this and you could see yourself with even more responsibility!"
Marilyn snapped out of her daze and began placing the completed prints into a separate folder. "You act like I want more responsibility. Editing is hard enough as it is!" She said, looking up at Jared. He simply winked at her. She grabbed her coat from the chair and placed he jacket over her shoulders, "So, what do I need to wear?"
Jared shrugged, "Nothing over the top but something pretty." She nodded and she walked past him out into the hallway. He laughed at her enthusiasm, "Have fun and good luck! He's a charmer!"
Marilyn waved him off and exited the building. She hailed a cab to the nearest subway platform and boarded the train. Twenty minutes later, the train stopped at her station and she exited to the surface. She arrived at her apartment and immediately walked to her closet, picking out an outfit. Satisfied with her choice, she grabbed a towel and headed into the bathroom. When she emerged, she quickly dried her hair, set her curlers and then began on her makeup. Wrapping the towel tightly around her, she exited the bathroom and began to dress.
She stepped out of her apartment and onto the street wearing her favorite grey mid-thigh sweater dress, leggings and her brown knee-high leather boots. She hailed a cab with ease and gave the cab driver her destination. They sat in traffic for a few minutes and as she paid the driver, she glanced at her watch and noticed she arrived nearly twenty minutes early.
Entering the restaurant, she gave the maître d' her name and he escorted her to a small table at the back of the restaurant. Killing time, she picked up the menu and slowly scanned through the menu.
"Excuse me, Miss...?"
Marilyn lowered her menu and could feel the muscles in her jaw begin to loosen. 'Smile stupid'. She gave him her best smile to prevent her mouth from falling open, "Hello, can I help you?" The man towered over the table, and she pushed her chair back to stand. He smiled in return; his straight white teeth sparkled in the low light. His dark skin offset his gorgeous cerulean blue eyes.
"You don't look like a Marcum Greenburg..."
Marilyn felt her cheeks turn a light shade of pink, "No, I'm his replacement. He is currently stuck in Florida." The man nodded, "And your name is..?"
"Marilyn Morrison, pleasure to meet you..?" She asked, extending her hand to him. He smiled at her and took her hand in his, "Chris. Chris Pine."