Back in November, I took a shot at writing the Great American Novel during NaNoWriMo. Unfortunately, I didn’t finish in the 30 days allotted, but thanks to the awesome ladies in my writers’ group, I haven’t given up on it. Instead, I’m plugging away, and someday (hopefully, someday soon) I’ll have a finished manuscript under my belt.
Tonight, I give you a sneak peak…something I’m hoping to do fairly regularly (as more incentive to keep going). But if you hate it? Do me a favor and don’t tell me, ‘kay?
The morning after the Bar Debacle, Becky slunk into her office and curled up behind her computer without saying a word to anyone.
She knew everyone was talking about her—and what they’d seen last night. Her secret was out. By the end of the day, the whole 500-person office would know she’d been dating her creative director.
Overnight, she’d become That Girl. The slutty one, who slept her way to the best assignments and the biggest promotions. Everything she did from now on would be suspect.
Could it get any worse?
When she fired up her email, she got her answer.
There was a message from the Executive Creative Director’s assistant, bidding her to appear in his office in 45 minutes.
Surely he couldn’t have heard the news already? But what if he had? Would she be fired? Demoted? Transferred to a different team?
Promptly at the crack of doom, Becky stepped out of the elevator and on to the plush red carpet. Marla—Mr. Todd’s secretary—smiled warmly.
“Go on in, Becky. They’re waiting for you.”
They? They were waiting for her? What they?
Straightening her shoulders, Becky took a deep breath and smiled brightly, glad she’d worn her favorite hunter green sweater dress and slouchy brown boots. She always felt better when she knew her curves were shown off to their best advantage.
“Thanks, Marla,” she said and swung open the door with false confidence.
But when she saw who was inside, she faltered. Sitting in front of Mr. Todd’s desk were The Bastard and Anne—her account director.
This couldn’t be good.
“Becky, my girl, there you are,” Mr. Todd boomed. “Come in, come in. We were just having a little chat about the spot you wrote for Froyo.”
She moved across the cavernous office, hoping they couldn’t see her knees shaking. “Oh?”
“Yes, indeed. Anne showed it to me this morning, and I have to tell you, I think it’s brilliant!”
“B-b-b-brilliant?” She risked a glance at The Bastard, whose eyes glittered dangerously.
“That’s right. I have to tell you, I think it’s the best work that’s come out of the Froyo team in years!”
“Really,” she said, sitting down with a thump.
“In fact, I’d like you to work directly with Mark here to blow it out into a whole campaign. TV, web, billboards…the works.”
“Absolutely. You two make a good team. Handle this right, and you might even be up for a promotion!”
“Umm, o-okay,” she stuttered, mind spinning wildly. “I’m looking forward to it?”
“Good, good. Now, the presentation’s on Monday, so I’m afraid you two will have to work through the weekend on this. I trust that won’t be a problem?”
The Bastard smiled at her, liquid brown eyes glinting evilly. “No problem at all, sir. Becky and I do some of our best work when under pressure. We’ll sleep under my desk if we have to in order to get this done.”
Becky smiled weakly and nodded.
God help her. She was spending the weekend with the devil.