AllFreeNovel
Share Us
But Charlotte’s brain began to feel that similar, electric current again, as she’d felt the last time she’d had a great idea. She shivered, shooting her hand into the air once more. “Excuse me, sir,” she said, sounding half-sarcastic. She hoped no one else on her team noticed it.
Quentin frowned, still skimming through his notes. “Just a moment.”
“I’m sorry. I just think that’s a really weak idea for a story,” Charlotte said firmly.
Quentin lifted his head swiftly, glaring at her and making eye contact with her for the first time since they’d seen each other two nights before. He smacked his notebook onto the conference room table, allowing the silence to fold over the room like a thick blanket. Pamela, a few seats from Charlotte, gasped into her hands.
Had anyone been fired from MMM before?
“Oh?” Quentin finally answered, his voice heavy with sarcasm. “You think so?”
“I do,” Charlotte said primly, bringing her fingers together in a kind of prayer-pose.
“Care to share it with the class?” Quentin said, anger fueling him.
Charlotte grimaced, sensing she was on the brink of disaster. “I think there’s a better story to tell about the band’s return to old-fashioned tactics, regarding making music, getting famous, moving up the ranks. The guys have been friends since they were pre-teens, right?”
“I’m not… I didn’t ask…” Quentin blurted, suddenly sounding stupid.
“Well, they did. And instead of worshipping new trends in the music industry, they’re returning to old habits. Even their chords are similar to those used ten, fifteen years ago. They’re akin to chords used by your band, dude. Orpheus Arise. It’s pretty clear they’re taking your band as inspiration. Write a piece about the romance of grunge bands in basements. Write a piece about romanticizing the grungy past. That’s the piece people want to read. They probably won’t remember Thick Soled three months from now; that’s just the nature of things. But they remember their pasts. And they want to link these young boys with something that mattered to them.”
Quentin’s jaw dropped. Charlotte sensed she’d either ruined her career or boosted it for good. The surrounding interns shifted in their seats, clearly uncertain of which path she’d taken, as well. Pamela seemed to smirk, as if she knew she’d blast to the “top” of the interns, now. She couldn’t wait to squash Charlotte out.
“Charlotte, again,” Maggie began. “Speaking out of turn at a meeting like this. Quentin’s the editor in chief. You can’t just—”
But Quentin held up his hand, halting her, clearly captivated with Charlotte. As their eyes linked, it was as if they were the only two people in the room, alone, ready to undress each other—stripping each other bare, licking at the salty skin below.
“Let’s cancel this meeting,” Quentin said then. “It’s clear I can’t keep my own interns in check.”
Charlotte’s cheeks grew pink with fright. She bowed her head, breaking the spell between them. Still, her pussy lips seemed to open wider, yearning for him. Quentin cut from the room, slamming the door closed behind him, either outraged or too focused to close it correctly. The interns began to titter around her, feeling the drama as it shivered in the air.
“Shit,” Randy finally said, directing it toward Charlotte. “What on earth was that about? You spoke like you had a vendetta against him.”
Charlotte pressed her lips together, suddenly frightened. “I don’t know. Shit.” She pressed her fingers against her forehead, suddenly conscious that she was spiraling out of control.
Maggie approached her, her heels clacking against the hardwood floor. She leaned down in a swift motion, revealing her tired breasts and the cavern between them. “Charlotte. Do you mind if I speak with you in my office?” she asked swiftly.
Charlotte’s cheeks reddened even more. She pushed herself from her chair, feeling all intern eyes upon the small of her back. For the first time in months, she had an intense sugar craving and imagined herself shoving several cookies down her throat and sobbing on the subway.
Fuck. She was going to lose her job.
Why couldn’t she leave well enough alone?
She marched behind Maggie, her shoulders slumped, her mind bending. How would she tell her parents what had happened today? How had she allowed her emotions to spin so far out of control?
20
Quentin smacked his notes onto his desk and slammed his door, feeling an intense, passionate rage fuel through his bloodstream. His cock pressed tightly against the crotch of his dark jeans, angered that he hadn’t fucked Charlotte immediately. The moment he’d made eye contact with her—something he’d been trying whole-heartedly not to do—he’d sensed it wasn’t over between them, no matter how much he tried to convince himself of such.
And now, she’d blasted his idea, telling him a much better one. When he’d been a beginner writer at MMM, he’d had the balls and the gumption to pitch ideas like that, blasting past all staff above him and making several enemies, but even more friends.
