AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Charlotte,” she answered, her voice a whisper. Why did his gaze make her cower? Why did she feel exactly five inches tall? “Charlotte Barracks. I’m an intern. First day.”
Silence hung between them, then, with Quentin towering over her, making her feel weaker by the second. One of the other interns, a man, piped up from behind them. “We’re all new interns,” he said, his voice taking on false confidence. He’d probably read somewhere that he was meant to make an impression on the first day.
But Quentin’s eyes didn’t waver from Charlotte’s face. Nobody else in the room existed. Not when Maggie began to introduce some of the interns whose names she remembered, trying to act excited, attempting to yank Quentin’s attention back to her. Not when the rock stars he’d been interviewing poked their heads from the side office, asking if they might grab a cup of coffee.
Instead, Quentin found words. “Where do you come from? You’re clearly not from around here.”
“New York, you mean?” Charlotte asked, wondering if he was poking fun at her. Was it so obvious that she wasn’t from the East Coast? Did her cheeks shine with Midwestern sun? “No. I’m from Ohio.”
“Oh-HI-oh,” he whispered, his voice gruff. “I have a few good stories from there. And some I even remember.”
The band, now stationed behind him, began to titter with laughter. Charlotte swallowed harshly, remembering reading about the many orgies Quentin had had as a rock star. She’d read that article in the very magazine they were both now working for, something like a million years before. God, how times had changed. And, God, how she wanted him to splay her over a table and make love to her—or just fuck her, in the way of his ten-years-ago rock star self.
“My experience was a bit more wholesome than that,” Charlotte finally answered, her voice catching in her throat.
“And now you think you’re going to make it in the big, wide world, do you? First, this magazine, then eternity?” he asked, crossing his arms firmly across his chest. His eyes danced. He no longer appeared like the fatherly, nice-guy-editor. He was now all hard edges and bright eyes and bad boy arrogance.
“It’s been my dream to work here my entire life,” she answered softly.
“Well,” he said, scoffing slightly, raising the tension. “We’ll see how you do here, then.”
He said it as if he expected her to fail. Sensing the mounting tension, Maggie burst between them, raising her magazine spreads like a curtain. “Quentin, we really need your approval on this spread before we go to print. Can you just let the girl go to lunch with the others?”
She said it in a half-laugh, poking fun of his sexual nature. Charlotte took the opportunity to spin around, joining the pack of other interns in the corner. Her cheeks heated with embarrassment and panic. Randy’s eyebrows went high with pity. He wrapped his arm around her quivering shoulders and led her into the elevator.
“He made an example out of you,” he whispered in her ear. “Don’t worry about it. And don’t think about it a minute longer. You were hired because you’re a good writer. You were hired because you’re worthy. And he’s an arrogant bad boy. Everyone knows that, from way back in his early days. And just because I said that thing about wanting to wake up in his bed, doesn’t mean I don’t know it wouldn’t be a horrible thing for my self-esteem. As it would be for you.” He winked.
The elevator began to close, creating a firm barrier between Charlotte and Quentin, who still stood talking to Maggie. Just before the elevator door closed, his eyes snapped back up toward Charlotte, causing a chill to jolt up and down her spine.
“Jesus. That was intense,” Charlotte murmured, swiping light beads of sweat from her hairline. She couldn’t snap the image of the sexy editor from her mind.
“Let’s get you something to eat,” Randy said, laughing. “You’ll shake this in no time, flat.” The rest of the interns began to titter with light laughter and chit-chat, leaving Charlotte to her reverie.
She couldn’t have imagined such an explosive first encounter. She now understood the life of a groupie—a life she craved.
“Ah, girl. I see what you’re thinking about,” Randy said, laughing now as they scampered out on to the sidewalk. “But remember. There’s a no-fraternization rule. Not with your boss. You don’t want to fuck up your first internship.”
“Ha,” Charlotte said, kicking her head back. “I would never screw up this opportunity. It’s not like he even remembers me, anyway.”
Randy flipped on his sunglasses, cackling wildly. “That’s the spirit, my girl. I think you might just be grown up enough for New York, yet.”
2
Quentin entered his office once more, splaying the magazine spread atop the mahogany desk. The Morning Stars were still there, with two of them rolling cigarettes and seated in expensive office chairs. Their jeans stunk of alcohol and marijuana, the two most essential things from Quentin’s old, rock star life.
