For the most part, Santana loved her job. Being a lesbian and the editor of a fashion magazine, I think you can understand why. Although certainly not as controlling as Berry, Santana did enjoy having the power being an editor gave her - especially when it meant she got to take credit for the success of a magazine as infamous as Vogue. The hours are good, the pay is even better, and it comes with a hell of a lot of perks. Unfortunately, waiting around for her notoriously slow photographer was not one.
"What the hell took you so long Porcelain? With the time you take to get ready you could atleast try to look like you work for a fashion magazine and not as the new judge on the next series of RuPaul's Drag Race. It's exhausting to look at you".
"I think a simple hello would have sufficed, don't you Santana?" Kurt asked putting down his bag carefully and shooting a scowl in her direction . He couldn't be too offended though, not after the way he had cackled the last time he overheard one of Santana's famous insults directed at Rachel.
"But where's the fun in that, Lady Hummel?" Santana answered. Kurt shrugged and perched on the edge of the desk. He rifled through his bag for a minute before pulling out a flask. She could smell the coffee from the other side of the room and was about to ask how anyone could drink it that strong, but she noticed the bags under his eyes and decided against it. She may have pretty good hours herself, but Kurt wasn't as high up in the ranks and she remembered how draining the job had been when she had been working stupid hours like him. After consuming what Santana decided must have been almost the entire contents in one gulp, Kurt looked up and found Santana's eyes on him. She quickly looked away when she realized she's been silently staring at him for a while now.
"What are you looking at, weirdo"
Although Kurt had said it without a hint of malice, Santana felt her face flush. She couldn't tell him she was worried about him; she would never live it down. Before Kurt had the chance to embarrass her further, she remembered something that would most certainly take the attention away from her
"Me? Oh I was just wondering when you were going to fetch the model you're here to photograph, dumbass"
Kurt literally jumped up, spitting out the last of his coffee.
"Shit. Do you know what this means? This means I have to go and collect her and she'll most probably throw a fit at how long I kept her waiting and everyone will see and now I've got coffee over the fucking cream carpet and-". The doors to the elevator shut halfway through Kurt's speech, cutting him off, although Santana could still faintly hear his shrill voice through the thick metal.
"Serves you right" She yelled loudly, hoping he heard on his way down. She didn't mean it though, they both knew she would cover for him in an instant. She could get away with pretty much anything at this company, so if she could help Kurt keep this job she would. She also hoped the model would go easy on him. Hopefully he'd keep up the monologue, and then she'd would be too afraid to yell at a nutjob. Santana couldn't really see it happening though - every model she'd seen around here was so far up their own ass, they were wearing it as this season's new hat. That's why Santana was here in the first place; if she could sweet talk the models, Kurt's mistakes were likely to go unnoticed.
Twenty minutes had been and gone, and Kurt had still not returned with his nameless counterpart. As much as Santana hated to admit it, she was beginning to worry. She knew being late was his specialty, but she had no idea how Fancy managed to take this long going up and down in a fucking elevator. He must be getting his ass-whooped, and although she now agreed it was well deserved, she needed to be there to stop the trainwreck that was Kurt losing his job. He was the one colleague she could actually put up with. Cursing his name, Santana scrolled through the contacts on her phone, found Kurt, and pressed call. Everyone had to keep their phones close by in this job, and so Kurt picked up within the first two rings, thank fuck.
"Lady Lips, you know full well that today is supposed to be my day off and so help me if you do not walk out of that elevator in the next five seconds you best be believing I will go all Lima Heights on your sorry ass" Santana growled into the phone.
"Hummel, do you hear me?" she snapped when she did not receive a reply
"Did I just hear what I think I heard, is that Santana?" She heard from the background on Kurt's side of the phone.
Well, Shit. She really hoped it wasn't one of the models she'd worked (and slept) with before. That could be awkward. Before Santana could give it too much thought Kurt finally decided to answer her.
"I'm so sorry Santana, I should have told you but I just got so caught up with things. We're coming up now, all three of us" Kurt answered cheerfully.
"And would you like to tell me exactly who the other two are?" Santana snapped back. For the life of her, she couldn't understand why one of her hook-ups was making Kurt so unusually happy. She felt like she was on the outside of a rather strange inside joke.
"Oh of course, the model Brittany Pierceā¦" Kurt continued talking but Santana tuned him out. Why did that name sound so familiar? She knew now it couldn't have been someone she had slept with, because she felt like she hadn't heard the name in a very long time. Like, not since high school long time.
"Sorry what was the last bit? My ears have a tendency to tune out voices as high as yours" Santana asserted. She was still angry Kurt had not given a sufficient reason as to why he was taking so damn long.
"The model Brittany, she's brought someone with her. It's Quinn"
