The Promotion

It was a cold and rainy March morning when Marissa McCafferty exited the grungy door of her apartment building and hurried down the crowded streets of New York. The crappy weather reflected her crappy mood perfectly, but she tried not to think about the reasons why as she quickly crossed the street, protecting her head from the rain with her briefcase.



She tried not to curse out loud when her foot landed right in the middle of an enormous puddle and soaked through her boot and into her sock. Just what she needed. She sighed and pressed on, weaving through the walls of people until she finally reached her destination. Dreevis Agencies.



"Morning Ms. McCafferty." The doorman smiled and held open the door.



"Morning, Roger." She replied with a tiny smile and rushed past him into the fancy lobby of Dreevis Agencies. She glanced at the large clock on the wall, she was three minutes late. She hated being late. She hurried past the front desk and to the elevator where she swiped her i.d card and waited for what seemed like hours for the metal elevator doors to open. She disappeared inside and waited while it climbed to the fifteenth floor.



She didn\'t even wait for the doors to open all the way before she rushed out and headed down the hallway towards her office.



"Good morning, Ms. McCafferty. One of your clients called and left a message and your meeting is still scheduled for 7:30." Her assistant Grace said politely, walking beside her and handing her a stack of papers.



"Shit, the meeting," Marissa thought aloud, taking the papers from Grace and heading into her tiny office. "Thanks Grace," she shut the door behind her. She tossed the papers on her desk and immediately collapsed into her chair, reaching to turn on her computer.



"The meeting, the meeting. I can\'t believe I forgot the meeting," she said to herself as she impatiently tapped her fingers on her desk. She never forgot anything. She was a perfectionist and now she was going to screw up the most important presentation of her career. How could she have forgotten? Oh yeah, because Gil had shown up randomly and demanded her to go skiing for the weekend with him. It wasn\'t even worth it, risking her career to spend time with him. They had gotten into one of their many arguments on the way home and it ruined the whole time they shared.



She could see her reflection in the black screen of the computer monitor, and she didn\'t like what she saw. Her honey blonde hair, which had been pulled tightly back in a bun, had stray pieces sticking out all over. She looked like she had been electricuted. Sighing, she yanked out the hair tye and let her gorgeous, curly hair fall to her shoulders. At 22 years old, she often got asked if she was a model. She was six feet tall, skinnier than a popsicle stick, and had this fierce look about her that made men nervous to approach her. She didn\'t give herself enough credit, though. She didn\'t care much about her appearance and tended to not notice the heads that turned when she walked down the street. She\'d rather spend an extra hour in the office than shopping or getting her nails done and she\'d rather get a bargain at Marshalls or TJ Maxx than pay triple at one of the fine, high end New York shops.



Someone knocked on the door and she got up quickly to open it, praying it was Grace with news of the meeting being postponed. Instead, it was the person she least wanted it to be.



"Hey Riss," Blake Dreevis pushed through the door and into her office. He was the boss\'s spoiled son and he had asshole written all over him. He did a double take when he saw her, he had never seen her with her hair down. But her glowing green eyes didn\'t even notice his prolonged eye contact.



"Can I help you, Blake?" She said in an aggravated tone while she headed back to her desk and sat down at her computer. She typed in her password, trying to ignore the fact that he was snooping around her office.



"Just wanted to see how it\'s going with your presentation, are you finished?" He smiled and sat down at the chair on the other side of her desk and obnoxiously put his feet on it, not even caring that he was stomping all over her papers. She pretended not to notice while she pulled her hair back into the tight bun.



"For the most part, I just need to add some final touches, which is why I\'m gonna have to ask you to leave my office for the time being." She kept focus on her computer and tried to not look up at him. She glanced at her watch, only 23 minutes to throw her presentation together. It wasn\'t going to be her usual excellent work, but it\'d still smash whatever Blake\'s was. He never had good presentations, but he was the boss\'s son. She needed to amaze them in this meeting, a promotion was on the line and her only competition was the man sitting across from her with the sly smile on his face.



"You look good today," he ignored her request for him to leave. "I mean it," he added when she shot him a dirty look, "Usually you wear one of those suits that make you look like a politician. I like the skirt and boots look, it suits you. Although, your hair looked better down. I thought I walked into a modeling agency when I first came in." She tried to ignore him because she knew he was saying it to try to get her to lose her focus, not because he actually meant it or even cared. She would have thanked anyone else, but not this slimy skeezeball.



"Well I\'m not surprised to see you using the I\'m an Asshole style today like every other day. I\'ve never seen a straight guy care so much about his appearance, is there something your not telling everyone Blake?" She fired back and then looked right back to the computer screen. The only time she had seen him out of the office setting was at the office parties, and even at those he had sported Lacoste polos or Cardigan sweaters. She would admit, though, that he was an extremely attractive man. He had sandy blonde hair which he styled differently all the time, sky blue eyes, a natural looking tan, and a lean, toned body. But unlike Marissa, he knew he was good looking and he loved every bit of attention that he got for it.



"Gosh, Rissy, are you always so serious?" He always called her Riss or Rissy just to piss her off.



"About my work, yes. Maybe you should try it some time."



"Woah woah, enough with the personal digs, I was just trying to be friendly. Anyway, I can take a hint," he slid his feet off the desk and slowly stood up, "Good luck with your finishing touches."



"Thanks," she said, although it was clear that she didn\'t mean it.



"Oh yeah, I\'m running out to get some coffee before the meeting, do you want anything?" He poked his head back in the doorway.



"No, thanks." She glanced up from her computer but then looked right back down. He finally left for good, although he left the door wide open, and she was able to focus on her presentation.



~~~~~



Half an hour later, Marissa was standing at the head of a large conference table with several business men sitting around it. The boss, Charles Dreevis, sat at the other end of the table and she watched him as he nonchalantly peered down at his watch. He looked like a billionaire, like his name shoud be Maxwell or something impressive. He looked like an aged Blake, with gray hair and piercing blue eyes. He was very tall, but a little shorter than Blake, and very lanky. Marissa had never seen him in anything but an expensive suit and she wondered if he even went to bed in his formal attire. She had known he had had several wives and kids with each one, but Blake was the only one she had met. She also knew that the last marriage hadn\'t worked because she saw him with a different woman at each office party, most of the time his date looked to be about Blake\'s age or younger.



"Well we gave him plenty of time, I guess we\'ll have to start without him." Charles frowned and said to the other men at the table. He spoke in a strict manner, like he was a Principal scolding a young student for something they did wrong. "You may begin, Marissa."



She smoothed down her skirt with her hands and cleared her throat. "As you all know, Stacy Krenshaw is a blooming starlett who is about to be exposed to what every young actress is exposed to." She clicked the mouse and a picture of Stacy, looking young and innocent, appeared on the screen. She continued, "This is a crucial time in her life, and I think Dreevis Agencies stands a high chance of being who she chooses to hire if we tend to her needs. We can not only keep her from becoming the next Lohan or Hilton, which her parents will be happy to hear, but we can also make sure she is getting every penny she deserves."



Out of the corner of her eye, Marissa could see a tall figure making its way down the hallway. A few seconds later, her speech was interrupted by the sound of the door opening and she rolled her eyes when she saw Blake coming through the doorway, drink holders and brown bags in his hands.



"I\'m sorry I\'m late," he said loudly, "It\'s brutal out there, but I got coffee and donuts for everyone." He smiled to Marissa and then set down the food at the center of the table. His light blue button down shirt was drenched with water and his hair, which was spiked up earlier, was flattened with water on his head. Marissa hoped that his rude behavior and sloppy appearance would be taken into account by the men at the table, but who was she kidding. He was the boss\'s son, he could wear sweatpants and a t-shirt and none of these guys would think twice about it.



He may have been able to suck up to them, but she was woman, she had powers over men that Blake could never have. She excused herself for a moment while the men all pigged out, and hurried to the bathroom. She observed herself in the mirror before pulling her hair out and playing with it with her hands until it was in the perfect position. Then she yanked down her black sweater so that it showed off her cleavage and the tops of her perfect sized breasts. For the first time in her life, she\'d use her looks to get her somewhere. Figures the jerk Blake Dreevis would be the one to force her into that position.



She blushed when she went back in and got stares from every guy in the room. She even noticed that the forty-year old gay man, Ken Withers\', donut dropped out of his mouth in awe. She winked to Blake and went back to her position at the head of the table.



She finished her presentation with confidence, and smiled when they all clapped for her. It was the best reaction she had ever gotten from the crowd. She sat through Blake\'s presentation, and had to admit that he had done a good job, but she still thought hers was better.



"I like both of your ideas," Mr. Dreevis said once Blake had finished. "I\'m going to discuss with my partners and we\'ll let you know tomorrow what we\'ve decided on. You can both go now."



She was shocked by his words. Usually they would say something to her, hinting that they loved her idea and were going to run with it. But this time, there was no hint of whose they liked better or of who would be getting the promotion. She quickly walked out of the room, trying to not overthink the situation. She couldn\'t risk not getting this promotion. It meant everything to her.



Once in her office, she was finally able to let some of her anger out. She slammed her fist down on her desk and threw herself in her chair. She leaned her elbows on the desk and rubbed her eyes with her palms. This was not happening. She could not lose this promotion to Blake Dreevis, that arrogant son of a bitch.



A few seconds later, there was a light tap on the door and Marissa looked up to see a young man with a bouqet of flowers in his hand.



"Ms.....Marissa McCafferty?" He asked, checking the card.



"That\'s me," she said as she signed his clipboard and took the flowers from his hand. She waited until he left the office to read the card.



Riss,

Sorry about Sunday, I was a jerk.

I have great news!

Reservations at Masa tonight at 8.

Pick you up 7:15

Love Gil



She smiled at his effort. Masa was probably one of the nicest but most expensive restaurants in New York and getting reservations was not an easy thing. She also knew that it was sushi, one of her least favorite foods. She thought Gil knew that, but she was used to him thinking about only himself and not her. But tonight, like all the other nights, she\'d put up with it.