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~You're a heartattack in black hair dye!

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~Nine months later~

Only a few hours in my new apartment, and I’m already frustrated.

“Marcy! Please help me with these boxes!” I yelled at her for the fifth time.

“Hold it! I’m almost done,” she assured, roughly filing her nail.

It turns out senior year for High school is indeed the fastest year. But I’m so glad it’s over. Marcy hadgot accepted into that Community College she was talking about, and I got a full time job as a secretary at a huge corporation. Well, I got an interview at a huge coporation. Plus I got a free apartment! Wondering how I managed to land something like that in the busy city of Chicago? I’m getting to it, I’m getting to it.

We looked all summer at apartments, and couldn’t find the right one. None of them were within our price range. The first apartment we found was beautiful, but a whopping twenty thousand dollars over our limit. I started to get depressed, because almost every place we looked at was over the limit. We continued looking at houses with our realtor for ages, until I met the owner of one of the best apartment buildings in Chicago, Devin Star. It was awkward at first, because really we got in a huge car crash. But it was completely his fault.

About five weeks ago I had told Marcy I would meet her at the movies. So, I was on my way strolling down the street at my normal: I’m-a-perfectionist-I-must-drive-the-speeding-limit, when a huge red Lamborghini starts speeding down the road behind me and wobbling off the lane. I can tell their foot is literary glued to the accelerator, and those cars can really kill the gas when they want. I of course started to get off the road, because this guy is driving like he’s drunk.

I pulled over, and I swear to god the guys right nose of the car hits the back of mine, and then his mirror scratches all the way down my car. My car luckily didn’t go flying off the road, but the airbag did slam into my face. Now, I have a pretty crappy car so I of course injured my nose on the airbag.

No really, I’m serious. I had a bruise.

The Lamborghini comes to a halt about twenty feet away, and I leaned my head back on the seat, clutching my bloody nose. A loud tap on my window, made me lift my head up to meet a pair of dark sunglasses. “Are you ok?” he shouted behind the window.

I gave him thumbs up, and motioned for him to step back. Bastard thinks I'm ok? I could of died!

Opening the door, I got out then slammed it shut behind me, and crossed my arms over my chest. The man took off his sunglasses, and put his hands on his hips. “You better have car ensur---“ I looked up to see a sunset lit tanned face. He has blue eyes, and longish blond hair. A nice blue button down shirt and black pants are hugging his body. I instantly recognized him as the famous Devin Star, owner of almost every company in Chicago, and the Boss of Devin & Son. To put his job in summary, he’s known for giving people huge loans for their businesses. Plus it doesn’t help that he’s thirty two, single, and really handsome. “Oh my God you’re--you're Devin Star!” I screamed, and covered my mouth in excitment.

He made a face, and reached into his pocket to take out a black hanky. I stared down at it, and he smiled, “Its clean…you have a nice amount of blood coming out of your nose there,” he commented, and I instantly fell in love with his deep voice.

I read about this man everyday in my magazines, and his son. They are probably the most famous people in Chicago.

“Can you walk? Do you want me to drive you to the hospital?” he slightly slurred.

After the way he was driving? Hell no, I was definitely getting something out of this.

“Um…no I think it’s best if I just call my Dad—“

“How much do you want?” he blurted.

“What?” He reached into his pocket and took out a dark brown wallet. “This can’t get out in the press or anyone else; I’ve already had my share of scandals. If they see that I got in a car accident with a young lady, like you, some Journalist will scream ‘sexual assault’ and I’ll spend weeks trying to get my name cleared. Plus it doesn’t help that I’m slightly drunk, and I was on my laptop on the highway.”

After moments of realizing he stopped talking, I looked away from his blue gaze. “Listen, I don’t need any money…it’s—“

“Are you sure? How old are you? I feel bad I ruined your….car.” His blue gaze locked on my pathetic excuse of a vehicle, and we both laughed. Wrinkles formed around his eyes.

“Well I’ll be nineteen in December.”

Way to let that one out of the bag.

“Are you going to college soon? I can pay for that…maybe buy you a new car. I have the money.”

Who does this guy think he is? I just want the number for his car insurance!

“No, thank you.” I took my phone out of my pocket, and took a picture of his license plate, and then his face. “I’m getting back into the car now, and I’m going to call my car insurance. I suggest you do the same.”

His eyebrows lifted to his forehead, “Wait! I can offer you a well paid job? With little hours?” he bargained persuasively

“No, that’s alright. I was going to get rid of this hunk of metal anyways you know. It won’t make a difference whether it has a long scratch on the side and a huge dent in the back, it will still be a piece of crap. It’s your car, you should be worried about.”

He put his hand on his chin, and took a step back. “The more I talk to you, the more I think you would be a great secretary.”

I furrowed my eyebrows, “I hope that’s not an insult.”

“No, it’s not actually. Nobody has taken down one of Devin Star’s deals in years. I’ll tell you what,” he started, putting his hand into the pocket of his slacks. He pulled out a fancy white business card then handed it to me between two long fingers, “I’ll get you an interview in a few weeks with my partner in crime, and a nice apartment, if you completely forget this ever happened. A very....well worth it apartment by the way with nice scenery.”

“Oh boy…I—“

Wait did he really just say partner in crime? I always wondered why neither of the guys has a girlfriend in the tabloid pictures… “What’s your number?” he suddenly asked, and I snapped out of my trance.

My heart stopped beating rapidly, Devin Star is asking for my number? Oh my God I'm going to hyperventilate. Ok, first of all clearly he is much older than me, and second of all he’s just talking about the job here. Cool it Faith.

After giving him my number, I crossed my arms over my chest, still feeling uneasy around this guy. Something tells me to trust him, while something else tells me to hit him with my car door. “Fine, but how do I know you’re going to actually get me this interview, and apartment?”

“I’ll have my assistant Barbara contact you personally, plus you have my word,” he said smoothly, searching my eyes with his blue ones. “Deal?”

“Deal.”

He stuck his hand out. “I’m sorry I never caught your name?”

I clasped my hand in his warm one. “Faith Williams.”

“Again, sorry about meeting this way, I hope you enjoy working at Devin & Son if you do decide to. “ He smiled brightly, and walked towards his car. I thought I heard him mumble something like, “I’m going to murder him.” But I was too busy staring at the card in my hands. I feel like the luckiest person on earth! I just nailed a possible job with the most elite corporation in Chicago, and I got a new apartment! Wait, maybe I should think about this first…

I didn’t think about it for too long, becauseI was at the apartment lifting my boxes a few weeks later.



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I woke up to a loud buzzing in my ear.

“Huh?” I dragged, rolling over on the naked mattress. I took out my old cell phone and flipped it open. At first this screen was blurry, so I rubbed my eyes rapidly. Then I slapped myself in the forehead so I would wake up. What? You’ve never done tha? The number doesn’t have a contact name…Is it from David Star? My heart started to pound as I read it.

Faith,

You have an interview at Devin & Son at 10:00 AM today. It is best to be on time. Dress to impress but don’t walk in there dressed inappropriately. I suggest a long sleeved shirt buttoned to the top, and slacks. No need for a resume, as David has instructed me. Most of Mr. Star’s interviews take a while. Good luck and remember to stand your ground. This is a tough job here and there are many other people applying for this position.

Good luck!

--Barbara Fuller, David Star’s Secretary.

What! Since when do I have a meeting today? They could have told me in well advance! Oh my God I didn't know it was with David Star I'm going to die!



Below her name are directions to get here, but hell I already know how to get there! That’s the one of the largest buildings in the city! Wow, I really just thought he would give me this apartment and be done with me. We’ve only been here for about two days and I already get the job interview? I’m alright with just having this apartment, not going to lie. It’s a huge apartment on the seventieth floor.

When you walk in directly to the left is the kitchen, with white cabinets and white tiles. There’s a small counter island with two chairs, but there’s also a white dining room table halfway in the living room. Huge windows line the one side of the place, with automatic blinds. The whole left side of the apartment is basically the living room, with comfy tan couches. No there isn’t a huge big screen TV. I wish…

Anyways, the bedrooms are past the kitchen. There are two bedrooms which are perfect for Marcy and I to have our own rooms. I think I would go mad sleeping in the same room with her. We’re sleeping I the living room and she’s already bothering me with her sleep talk.

I rolled over to look at Marcy on her own naked mattress. Both of our beds are just mattresses on the living room floor, because we don’t have any of our stuff except a few boxes and some clothes in a suitcase. The moving guy told us his car broke down yesterday, so he had to get it fixed and then come today to drop off our furniture. He said he would come between nine in the morning and twelve…

I checked the time on me phone.

Oh crap! I only have forty minutes to take a shower and get ready! Jumping off of the mattress, I stumbled past the kitchen and down the hallway to the bedrooms. Shoot! I don’t have an outfit! I’ll never make it on time! “Marcy! I need a work outfit I have that interview today at 10:00!”I screamed at the top of my lungs. I’m sure she brought her clothes to this place. She’s obsessed with fashion.

On the right is the bathroom, and the left are the bedrooms. I opened the door, to the white bathroom and stripped faster than I ever have before. I turned the shower on hot and scrubbed my body pink and lathered my hair with shampoo. Not going to lie, I’m pretty relieved I brought shampoo, conditioner, deodorant, some clothes.

I hurried out of the shower; ad brushed my teeth and hair. “No there’s no blow dryer!” I dried my hair as best as I could with a towel, and pulled it up into a professional bun. I scampered out of the bathroom with my robe, to see Marcy holding and outfit in her hands. It’s a white blouse, and a black pencil skirt. My eyes widened. Barbara said slacks and an outfit that covers everything! This will show way to much leg!

“Pencil skirt’s make a great first impressions!” Marcy explained, shaking the skirt slightly.

“Do you at least have stockings?”

She shook her head, “No, my parents are bringing those tonight! I didn’t bring them with me for the car ride. Wait!” she ran into one of the bedrooms, and came out with a bra and underwear. “Luckily I brought some business clothes just encase! Or you would be in so much trouble!”

Hell yeah I would!

“Thanks Mar!” I tore the outfit out of her hands and ran into the bathroom. “Get a taxi to take me to Devin & Son!” I screamed, getting dress faster than ever.

“Already on it girl!”

Phew, I swear if the world did not invent best friends and pencil skirts I would get nowhere in life.











Some of you are already confused! You shouldn't be a lot of books I have read do stuff like this. They move a few months later, and continue the story. It would have just been boring stuff with highschool I wanted to get to the fun stuff :DDDDD