Glitterati- noun; the fashionable set of people engaged in show business or some other glamorous activity.
A taxicab screeched to a halt in front of a massive twenty-story glass building. In the midst of all the New York Traffic and bustling sidewalks of the city, a slim, alluring brunette stepped out of the yellow car wearing nothing but Gucci and Vera Wang. Peeking over her oversized sunglasses, the woman slipped her driver a hundred dollar bill with a charming wink.
"Keep the change," the female practically demanded. The cab driver was struck speechless. He only nodded before speeding away from the skyscraper and the powerful individual in front of it.
All thoughts of the chauffeur exited the businesswoman's head just as fast as he raced away. She examined the building in front of her and smiled in approval. It was so beautiful. Absolutely stunning.
Its architecture was flawless. Its sleek, cylindrical shape was jaw dropping. Every window was perfectly spotless. Every detail of the office's unique appearance was exquisite. The way the thirty year old marveled at the structure one would assume it was her first time seeing it- even though she'd seen it every weekday for the past eight years.
She couldn't claim the entire property, but the matron proudly owned every inch of floors seventeen and eighteen: Glitterati Talent. Set in one of the most famous cities known to man, Glitterati was the headquarters of entertainment. Aspiring actors, models and singers from across the globe dreamt of being included into the chic management. The agency had manufactured some of the most famous people in the world. Access into the organization was practically a guaranteed ticket to worldwide fame and success.
An invitation into Glitterati seemed easy enough to come by. Hopeful clients would send in a resume, a few photographs, and a sixty second audition tape or a music CD. If selected out of the hundreds of weekly applicants, the lucky candidate would be called in to the offices to try out in front of the company's president herself. The only factor that gave Glitterati its elite label was simple: Only the best were accepted. Period.
After being elevated to floor seventeen of the building, the Glitterati president herself strutted into her work place, each step commanding authority.
"Good Morning, Miss Stewart. How are you?" A woman behind the front desk asked upon her boss' arrival.
"Super," Miley replied, suddenly impatiently. "Any mail for me today, Stacey?" she asked her secretary, yanking off her sunglasses.
Nodding, Stacey handed Miley a thick stack of rubber-banded papers and manila envelopes. Fingering through the pile, the brunette commented, "Resume time again? It seems like I just finished going through the last batch." This was in fact the case. Miley had just interviewed the last of prospects the previous day. "Phone the guys upstairs and tell them to be more picky with their selections. I'm a busy woman, for God's sake. I can't deal with so many papers."
While floor seventeen of Glitterati dealt with business and financial matters, the floor just above was in charge of sorting mail and choosing people worthy of the agency's consideration. Those applications were forwarded to Miley every other Friday. Lately the volume of resumes being sent to the Glitterati president had been quite high. Miley simply didn't have the time to look through all of them.
"Yes ma'am," Stacey said, making a note in her computer.
Miley pivoted away from the desk but had yet to take more than a few steps before the secretary called for her again. "Oh, Miss Stewart! I forgot to tell you something." Stacey hailed her employer.
"What is it?" Miley said, clearly irritated. She tapped her bright red high heels impatiently. She didn't have time for this nonsense.
"I just wanted to remind you that your new assistant is coming in today." Stacy seemed unaffected by Miley's harsh tone. She had been used to it by then. After working in the company so long, everyone had become immune to Miley's short fuse.
"Whatever. Miley physically waved the comment off without even glancing back at Stacey.
At the moment, Miley couldn't care less about a stupid assistant. She had so many other things on her mind. Fridays were always the busiest days at work. Miley always had double the phone calls, double the paperwork, and now an oversized stack of potential talent to deal with.
Come to think of it, maybe she would need her assistant after all...
Miley shoved the thought out of her head as she unlocked her office and stepped inside. She slapped the mound of paper onto her desk and tossed her coat over the back of her leather swivel chair before collapsing into it herself. After logging into her shiny iMac computer, Miley opened up her daily itinerary.
December 1
Meetings:
10:30 AM, 12:00 PM, 2:00 PM, 5:15 PM
Wonderful, Miley thought sarcastically. I'm completely booked today. I doubt I'll even have time to eat.
Miley glanced at the clock in the corner of the computer screen. She had a little over a half an hour before her first meeting of the day. Might as well do something with it. She tore the rubber band off of the mountain of papers in front of her. She had barely opened her first yellow envelope before she noticed a figure at the door.
"Knock, knock." Karin, one of the head agents at Glitterati and Miley's closest friend, stood in the doorway, grinning. Her unnatural platinum blonde hair was pulled into a long ponytail on top her head, and the woman looked extra glamorous in a ruffled blouse and high wasted pencil skirt.
Miley looked up from her work and silently greeted her visitor with a polite smile. Secretly, as much as she liked her best friend, she wished she could be left alone during her limited amount of free time.
Karin waltzed into Miley's office, closing the door behind her. "Oh my god." She approached Miley's desk. "Have you seen your new assistant?"
"No," Miley informed, not concerned in the least. She examined at a photo of a doll-faced female before tossing it in the trash. Too fat.
"Miley, he's super adorable," Karin gushed in awe, her ponytail swaying. "You're going to love him. He went out to get your coffee a while ago. Should be back any minute now."
Miley froze, looking up at her friend in shock. "He?" she asked for confirmation. She must have heard incorrectly. "I thought we had a rule here- no male assistants ever again."
"Oh, Miley." Karin placed a hand on her workmate's shoulder. She smiled playfully. "Don't tell me you're still not over what happened with-"
"Shush!" Miley lifted one of her narrow, freshly manicured fingers to her lips. "Don't say his name in this building."
"Fine," Karin groaned in agreement. "I just don't think you should hold a grudge. I mean it was one guy-assistant. You just got unlucky." She shrugged.
Miley made clear, "I'm not taking any chances."
"I think this new guy is worth a chance," Karin suggested certainly.
Miley ripped open another envelope. She needed to get some more work done before her meeting. "I disagree," she notified the blonde indifferently.
"You haven't even met him!" Karin mentioned in defense.
Miley wouldn't budge. "I don't need to. All men are the same." Obviously.
Karin raised an eyebrow. "You sure about that?" She crossed her arms while an apparent expression of frustration crossed her face.
"Positive." Miley tossed another envelope in the garbage can beside her desk.
Just then, there was a faint rap on the door. The two young businesswomen exchanged glances before Karin turned on her heels and went to answer it. Her face lit up when she recognized who the visitor was.
"Nick! We were just talking about you." Karin turned and winked at Miley who rolled her eyes, unamused. "Miley's at her desk. I'll leave you two alone to, you know, bond." She fluttered her eyes, and didn't waste any time scampering out of the office.
A young looking male entered the room holding a cup of coffee in each hand. His chocolate eyes twinkled when he set them on the beautiful Glitterati president. A mound of dark curls sat atop his head, and his bright red cheeks –a result of the brisk New York winter weather- was an uneven addition to his light skin tone.
"Hi, I'm Nick." He grinned confidently, showing his teeth.
Miley's response was ill bred. "Do you have a last name, or what?" she hissed.
Even though Miley had only known Nick for a total of thirty seconds, she already didn't like him. His self-assured smile was a huge turn off to her. Miley was already conceited. She didn't need someone else around that acted the same way.
"Gray. Nick Gray." Oddly, Nick seemed unaffected by Miley's cheeky mood. "I brought you coffee," he announced.
Nick strolled to Miley's desk and placed the steaming cup beside her nameplate. "Here."
"What took you so long?" Miley inquired even though the absence of her daily coffee had gone unnoticed since her arrival. She was just giving Nick a hard time to express her dislike towards him.
"I got here late. New York City traffic sucks." Nick's nonchalant persona was beginning to irk Miley immensely. Why wasn't he nervous? Most people were intimidated while in the powerful woman's presence. Miley was sometimes known to make people cry.
"Don't let it happen again," she growled.
Nick nodded. "Gotcha." He placed his own coffee on a nearby side table.
Miley scowled in disapproval of the still apathetic response. He didn't seem to notice her grimace. Nothing scared this guy. It was annoying.
"Where should I put my coat?" Nick suddenly questioned, removing his heavy black winter jacket as he spoke.
"There's a closet down the hall. Second door to the left."
"Thanks." With that, Nick vanished from the room en route to the coat closet.
Miley sighed in relief. Peace. She grabbed for her piping hot coffee, and promptly took a sip. A few seconds later, the scalding beverage was all over her floor after she had spit it out in disgust. That was definitely not her usual vanilla latte. No one messed with Miley Stewart's coffee. No one. Nick Gray was a dead man.
Picking up Starbucks was the easiest job all day. If Nick managed to screw that up who knew what else he was incapable of?
Soon enough, Miley's latest assistant returned to the office and immediately noticed the dirty glare on his boss' face. "Is something... wrong?" Nick asked uncertainly. He was obviously clueless.
"What the hell is this?" Miley exclaimed. She held out the Styrofoam coffee cup for Nick to see. "Didn't Stacey tell you what kind of coffee I like?"
"Yeah, she did. I just thought you might want to try something different," he explained innocently. "How do you like it?"
As if Miley's grim expression didn't say it all.
Her reply was dry. "I hate it. It's disgusting. What the hell is it?" she repeated, growling. She narrowed her eyes in an intimidating manner, but Nick overlooked her gestures of distaste yet again.
"It's a Cinnamon Dolce latte," he specified as a matter a factly. "Personally I don't think it's that bad." He picked up his own coffee and took a long gulp. "It's pretty delicious, actually."
Miley ignored Nick's opposing opinion. "Well, whatever it is, you're not ever to bring it into my office again," she snarled sternly. "Do I make myself clear, Gray?"
Nick took another sip of his drink with a shrug. "Whatever you say, Stewart," he agreed unwillingly.
"That's Miss Stewart to you, Gray."
"But you just called me-" Nick began to protest, but was cut off at once.
Miley was extremely piqued at the moment. As if her day wasn't complicated enough already, a mouthy assistant was not a necessity. She was the mouth off around here, not anyone else.
"You are to address me properly. Until you show me some respect, I'll call you whatever I want. Do you understand?" The brutal clarity of Miley's statement was impossible to deny even for a brave soul like Nick.
"Whatever you say, Miss Stewart," he agreed bitterly.
"Good," said Miley, satisfied. "Now let's get to work." Without hesitation the woman fished through her paperwork, before handing her new assistant the first audio CD she could get her hands on.
Miley pointed to a state of the art, lustrous stereo on the opposite wall. It had to be at least a two grand. At least. "Play it for me," she ordered then continued skimming resumes without another word.
Nick obeyed, and soon a catchy beat hovered among the room.
While Miley was diligently filtering talent, her deputy treaded around the office, admiring the various framed documents and photos lining the cream colored walls. Awards, national news articles, and signed photos from some of the most brilliant personalities in the world were among the many precious items.
A prestigious looking award caught Nick's eye, the text written in fine script.
Best Talent Management Strategy for the Year of 2021
Glitterati Talent
Miley Stewart
Dioganal to the certificate hung an enlarged Newsweek article featuring the Glitterati President. A sophisticated, younger-looking Miley graced the top of the page. Her arms were crossed loosely against the chest of her dark gray suit. Her chin was raised in the slightest and a plain white sort of step elevated her left leg. The words "all or nothing" were printed in big block letters beside the influential female, and a lengthy story was impressed below the photograph.
"If you have it, you have it. If you don't, you don't. It's all or nothing in this business."
Those are the words of Miley Stewart, founder and chief executive of Glitterati Talent in New York City. "It might be harsh, but it's true. At Glitterati we only accept the best of the best."
The ultra successful talent agency is one of the best itself. Just last year the management raked in over $12.7 million-
Nick peered at Miley from the corner of his eye. Damn. This chick was a big deal. And she was loaded.
Nick began to question himself. How had he not known about Miley? She was practically the queen of the entertainment industry. Maybe that was just it. Nick never had been much of a dedicated follower when it came to celebrities and things of that nature. But still. By the way this article portrayed her it seemed as if everyone knew of Miley. He was just a young hopeful when he moved to the Big Apple a few months ago. Now he was working with one of the most powerful people in America, possibly even the world, without even trying. How did he get so lucky?
Nick snuck a glance at Miley again. As she leaned over her desk, an unruly piece of her cocoa-colored hair hung just below her chin while the rest of it was piled neatly on top of her head.
She did have pretty nice features, Nick noticed as he took a better look at Miley. Her turquoise eyes were dazzling by only the light of the office. Her nose was cute- proportioned with a rounded tip. The businesswoman's pink lips were coated in lipstick, but other than that Miley didn't appear to be wearing much makeup. Nick was always one to be appreciative of a woman confident enough to sport the natural look- and look great doing it.
But the young assistant couldn't help to notice something familiar about Miley. Her face rang a bell. There was just something about her, but he couldn't seem to put his finger on it...
Perplexed, Nick shifted his attention back to the wall in front of him and the familiarity of Miley's face become obvious by an autographed photo hanging on it.
Hannah Montana. That was it. Miley used to be Hannah Montana. Nick recalled the heavy coverage when it was revealed that the teen pop star had a secret identity. Although he didn't pay much attention to the headlines, he remembered them.
"So you were Hannah Montana, huh?" Nick turned to Miley, grinning.
"Yep." Nick barley had Miley's attention.
He nodded in approval. "That's cool."
"Uh-huh." Miley scribbled something onto a paper then swiveled her chair to her computer.
Nick watched, desperate for her to say more. The second he laid eyes on Miley he knew she was something special. Learning more about her success only increased his interest.
Money. Fame. Beauty. Power. Lust. She was like an angel sent to Nick from heaven. Her unique personality was riveting. Her private persona only made him want her more. He'd only just met Miley, but Nick was smitten. That he was sure of.
"I always thought Hannah Montana was cute," Nick smirked wildly. Maybe Miley would open up to a flirt.
Miley looked away from her computer for a quick moment, examining Nick from head to toe. "Wasn't she a little bit old for you?" she inquired sharply.
"I'm pretty sure you and I are the same age," Nick filled in confidently. He was happy to have seemed to have clenched her attention for the moment.
"How old are you?" Miley demanded to know.
Nick crossed his arms and leaned against the wall. He hoped he looked just as cool as he felt. "Guess."
"Twenty-four."
Nick was insulted. He knew he had a baby face, but come on! Twenty-four? He brushed his hand along his chin. Maybe he should skip shaving for a few days. It might make him look older.
"I'm thirty," Nick informed her, practically sneering.
"You don't look like it."
Nick scowled. Miley was spitting out the rude comebacks with ease. "Well, I am."
Miley stared at Nick for a moment before commenting on the fact. "Intriguing." And then she was back to work.
Shoot. He'd lost her already. He couldn't let her go that easily.
"So, how long have you lived in New York?"
Nick had barely finished his sentence before Miley retorted in annoyance. "Stop talking to me. Can't you see I'm doing something?" She held up a finger to summon Nick to silence.
Shot down. Just like that.
Nick stayed silent for the next few moments. He didn't move either. It was obvious that Miley disliked Nick immensely, but he just couldn't bring himself to lie off of her. He believed Miley would grow on to him. She had to.
Just then, the music CD ended, and Nick took advantage of its hault. "You want me to get that for you?" he offered.
"Yeah, sure."
Nick tried to ignore the fact that Miley was obviously more absorbed into her computer than into him. He cleared his throat before taking a single step towards the stereo.
Suddenly a loud crashing sound echoed off the walls of the office. Startled, Nick whipped his body around and noticed immedietly what the source of the noise was. Three of the pictures that had been hanging on the wall behind had tumbled to the ground. He must have been leaning on them. Oops.
Nick bit his lip and braced himself as he slowly turned to face Miley at her desk. Her mouth was wide open. She closed it for a second, and then opened it again, completely speechless.
The brunette lifted herself from her chair and ambled over to the mess her fresh assistant had made. She looked from the disarray –a pile of glass and photographs- to Nick and back again before speaking.
"You... idiot," Miley hissed angrily. "How the hell did you manage to do this? Huh?" She directed her finger toward the shambles in disbelief.
Nick examined the damage prior to speaking. Luckily none of Miley's framed treasures seemed to be harmed, but the glass surrounding them was a different story, as well as one expensive looking picture frame, which was obviously busted.
Nick dodged Mile's question. "I'll, uh, clean it up." He kneeled down and reached for a photo featuring Miley and the legendary Britney Spears, but his hand was immedietly slapped away.
"Just don't touch anything! Okay?" An irate Miley groaned and paced back to her workstation. Leaning over her desk she pressed a button on the intercom.
Shortly, Stacey's voice was heard on the other end. "Yes, Miss Stewart?"
"Stacey, I need custodial services in my office- now," Miley barked at her.
The secretary was evidently puzzled but complied with the request. "Right away, ma'am." Faint keystrokes could be heard on the other end of the line. "And Miley?"
"Yes, Stacey?" Miley was growing more restless by the second.
"They're waiting for you in your meeting upstairs."
Miley snapped her head to the clock above her desk. 10:40. She was ten minutes late already. Where had the time gone so quickly?
"Damn it," Miley cursed under her breath, causing Nick to cringe in guilt. "Tell them I'll be right up. There was an incident in my office this morning." Miley eyed Nick keenly.
"Will do, Miss Stewart."
It was then that Miley raised her finger from the intercom, grabbed her purse, and briskly headed for the door.
"What do you want me to do?" Nick asked curiously.
Miley threw her head back in exasperation. "I don't know! Go... talk to Karin or something." She remembered her friend's odd fascination with Nick and decided she could keep him busy.
Following her order, Nick stuck his head out of her headquarters and watched in awe as Miley sashayed out of her office and eventually stepped into the elevator at the end of the hall.
"Get out of my office, Gray!" she yelled.
Then the elevator doors shut, and she was gone.
An abrupt emptiness swept over Nick without Miley in his presence. Sighing, he left the woman's office, closing the door behind him.
Even though Miley had been nothing but a grade A bitch to Nick, he stilled missed her. A lot. Her nastiness was what made his lust for her so strong.
Reviews are very much appreciated! I promise I will finish this story. Pinky swear.
And sorry for any spelling and grammar errors. I can't even tell you how many times I've read over this, but there are still mistakes. Ugh...