“Hand me your résumé.” She holds out her hand impatiently.
Fumbling through my bag, I locate the paper in question. Job-wise it’s pathetic. I don’t have to look to know that. I have little experience. But it doesn’t matter. I know what I have to offer. I’m smart. I have fantastic grades. I’m a natural leader. Let’s just hope Karen can see past my lack of experience. But who knows. She might not just to spite me. Olivia warned me this morning on the phone that this woman was a shark, but she’s so much worse. Maybe a piranha. The way she clicks her tongue and rolls her eyes as she peruses my résumé has me wanting to snap back and tell her why I’d be perfect for any job. I sit up tall, trying my damnedest to show her without words I’m worthy.
“I can do anything. I know my résumé is limited, but I promise you—”
Karen cuts me off with a shake of her head. “You have no experience in anything. This résumé is shit. I can’t work with this,” she grates while waving my résumé in the air. “Fucking Spencer.”
She says the last part under her breath.
“What is it you want to do in the future?”
“Marketing. I-I haven’t thought much past that.”
She scoffs. “You don’t say.” She purses her lips. “Doesn’t matter now. If you want to succeed in any high-profile marketing position, you need experience, and since I owe Spencer, you’re now my problem to deal with.”
My eyes widen, and my hope begins to climb. Is she saying she’ll help me? I’m about to ask when she lasers me with her large caramel eyes.
“Do you know how hard it is to even earn a marketing internship at a magazine or a fashion house?”
I shake my head.
“No, I didn’t think you did. If you did, you would have worked every summer of college.”
She has me there. Instead of working, I’d decided to double major. Anyone else might have been impressed by that, but not Karen.
“Which you didn’t. Any other person with your experience—or lack thereof—would’ve been shredded upon arrival. Alas, you know the right people. Lucky for you I’m good at what I do, so I’ll get you placed.”
I try to control the smile that’s threatening to spread across my face. Something tells me Karen wouldn’t be impressed. “Thank you. I’ll work hard.”
“You better not make me regret this.”
“I won’t. I swear.”
“I expect you to work your ass off so we can leverage it to a full-time position, and I expect to make a sizable commission from this . . . misfortune.”
I ignore her words, happy to have this opportunity and not willing to mess it up before it begins. Regardless of whether she was coerced, she’s going to help me get my life started, and for that I’m grateful.
I’m ready.
A week later, I’m walking through the doors of the world-renowned Axis Agency. The space is phenomenal just as Karen promised. Facing the water, the huge loft space has a beautiful view of The Statue of Liberty.
I arrive early, eager to start, but surprisingly, I’m not the first one there. Standing in the middle of the pristine white loft space is Matthew Lawson, the owner. He looks different than the photos online. He appears to be shorter in person than his pictures suggest and has significantly less hair. Not that it matters what he looks like. From all my reading, he’s supposed to be a genius. He’s known for his cutting-edge ideas, brilliant delivery, and return on investment for his campaigns. He’s so famous they even talked about him in my lectures. He’s also supposed to be impossible to work for, not that it will be a problem for me as I’m a lowly temp. No way will I be placed anywhere near him.
He must hear my heels tap against the floor because he looks up as I enter. His pupils dilate and he runs his gaze from my feet up to my eyes. A chill runs up my spine, but it’s the wicked smirk that bothers me most. It’s as if he’s undressing me, and it feels like spiders are crawling up my body. Being anywhere near this man gives me the creeps. Not that it matters. I’m sure this is the first and last time I’ll see him.
“And what do we have here? You must be my fresh”—his words linger and bile forms—“assistant. I’m very excited to meet you. I’m Matthew Lawson. Here, at Axis, we’re a small, intimate company. You can call me Matt.” He winks, and the emphasis on the word intimate isn’t lost on me.
Shit, I’m supposed to be his assistant. As great an opportunity as this is, the way he watches me has me on edge. “Hi, M-Matt, I’m Bridget. I-I’m excited to be here, too,” I muster, but I’m so damn unhinged, I actually stutter.
“Come with me. I need to have you sign a few papers.”
Together we walk into his office. With him in front of me, I do everything I can to pull my skirt as far down as possible.
Out of breath from trekking up the stairs to my apartment, I pull out my phone and dial Olivia.
“How was your first day?” she asks before I can even say hi. I knew the moment I got home I had to call her as she’d be dying to know how my job went.
I groan at her question. “I’m never going back.”
“Bridge . . .”
“The place is goddamn awful. I walked out.”
“You quit? On your first day?” Her voice echoes in surprise through the phone.
“Turns out he’s a pig. I refuse to work for him.”
I don’t tell her the full story. I don’t tell her that as I was signing intake papers, he stepped up behind me and I could feel that he was hard through his pants. I’m certainly not going to tell her that every time we bumped into each other, his body brushed against mine in a sickening manner that made me feel unsafe. So I just tell her he’s a pig and hope she doesn’t question what I mean.
“So, what are you going to do now?”
I let out a sigh of relief. She’s not mad. After what she did for me, I’d hate for her to be upset with me.
“I’m not going back.”
“Bridget, I know he’s a dick. Unfortunately, a bunch of men in his position are like that. I wish there was something I can do.” She sighs. “I’d love to give him a piece of my mind—”
“I know, and I love you for it, but it’s fine. I just won’t go back.”
“I totally understand. I’d do the same thing, but Spencer and I pulled some serious strings to get you in with this agency. You have to at least call them and say you’re sorry and see if they’ll place you somewhere else.”
“I know, I know. Karen’s just scary.”
“Time to grow up, Bridge.”
“Fine, I’ll call. But after that, I’m going to open a big bottle of wine and drown my sorrows.”
“I know it sucks, but you already said you aren’t going to ask Mom and Dad for help, which means you have to get a job. You cannot burn bridges along the way. Take it from me. If you burn too many bridges and your options are limited, you might find yourself in a horrible situation.”