The sound of knocking grabs her attention from the large screen in front of her.
"Come in," she says, looking over to watch the wooden door swing open.
"There's another one, Piper," her assistant and long-term friend, Lorna, says, sounding out of breath as though she'd just run up every flight of stairs that leads to the current top floor her office is situated on.
Clenching her jaw, she pauses for a moment, wondering how to go about the current situation.
"Send it over," she says, turning back to her computer - a sign for the small, dark-haired woman to exit the room.
Within the next few minutes, the sound of an alert indicates a new item in her email inbox. Changing tabs and selecting the item from her assistant, Piper opens the attached link in a new tab, letting out a heavy breath through her nose as she begins to read.
The article - one about relationships - offers a witty, yet informative tone - something which, like the many others she had read over the last few days, captures her full attention. She finds her lips rising on occasion at the sarcastic undertones regarding sexuality and the workplace, and by the time she reaches the end of the last sentence, she has to force herself to remain neutral in expression.
Alex Vause. So talented, she internally repeats since the last time she'd read her work - the only problem being that such work was being published somewhere that wasn't the establishment she was in charge of.
For one of the very few times in her 29 years, Piper Chapman - Smith educated, well liked, humbly wealthy - wishes she wasn't such a perfectionist. Her company - unlike most others in the field - is well-known for its sophistication. Employers want to work for her, rivals envy her success. From writing segments in her local newspaper, to becoming head editor of her college newspaper, to full-time writer, the blonde's pride and joy is her work. Her success as one of New York's most profound journalists paved the way for her breaking the mould and founding her own company; after 5 years of running things her own way, her company's work is increasingly becoming one of the most frequently sought after publications to either get a feature in, or be a part of.
What does bother her, however, is not having the best. Her employees - all strung from what some would describe as a rigorous interview process - are the best at what they do, and what she cannot stand, is seeing someone with undeniable writing ability not being able to produce content as freely as they should be able.
Alex Vause - a name she's hearing more and more about - produces frequent work, and although enjoyable to read, it just doesn't quite seem right. A part of her wonders whether the woman chose to write work relating to how to stop your man from stealing all the duvet at night, or whether her employers are taking advantage of her witty word play to meet target demographics.
Going back to her emails, she goes to reply to her assistant.
'Get me a meeting with her'.
"Alex, someone's on the line for you," a voice shouts across the office to where she's currently trying to work in her cubicle.
Looking up, she sees a colleague walking past nod her head down to the phone set on her desk - indicating to pick up the device.
"Hello," she greets, wondering why whoever wants to talk to her didn't just call her phone instead of being internally funnelled through.
"Is this Alex Vause?" a feminine voice echoes through the line - one she can't say she's familiar with.
"It is. Who is this?" she asks, trying to sound polite despite the fact that her tone of voice currently gives off nothing but confusion.
"My name's Lorna Morello," the woman introduces herself, and Alex furrows her eyebrows - trying to figure out why that name sounds so familiar. "I'm calling from Sonder."
At the sound of the very company name, Alex's stomach drops. She's no idiot; you don't need to be a genius to know that it's not everyday you get approached by one of the most notorious modern media companies.
"I see," she pauses, clearing her throat. "How can I help you, Ms Morello?" she asks, curious as to where the conversation is going to take her.
"Please, call me Lorna," the woman corrects, sounding as approachable as she can be considering it's a conversation over the phone. "We've been following your work for quite some time and we're impressed."
"We?" Alex asks, knowing the scale of the company and its number of departments doesn't cover the pronoun.
"Well, it would probably be more accurate to say Ms Chapman is the most impressed," the woman reveals in a quietened tone of voice - a sign that what she's saying isn't something that she should really be sharing for many to hear.
Alex's stomach drops for the second time throughout the last minute. She knows all about Piper - the rivalled owner of the current company she works for, ridiculously good with her words, yet with a second thought she doesn't know much about the woman other than that. Her privacy obviously being something she surprisingly values.
"She'd like to meet with you," Lorna continues, bringing Alex out of her brief daydream.
"Oh, I don't know if that's appropriate," she voices, knowing how frowned upon it is to be meddling with other companies - especially those rivalling for views.
"How's next Thursday at 11am?" the woman asks, obviously taking no notice of her reluctance to immediately agree.
Looking around to see if anyone is watching her, Alex lowers her head.
"I'm flattered, but it's against our policy."
"To have a conversation with someone?" Lorna asks.
"To have a conversation with Piper Chapman," she announces, sounding as though she's stating the obvious. "What exactly do you want, anyway?" Alex asks, realising the other woman hadn't revealed the purpose of this so-called meeting.
"I'm afraid that's for Ms Chapman to say," she voices, a hint of smile evident. "I'll still book you in. You have some time to think it over."
Closing her eyes, Alex contemplates whether she should really be going along with this - her boss is bound to find out and that isn't a conversation she'd like to be a part of. In fact, it's this thought that causes her to wonder how the woman on the other end even managed to get through to her desk phone.
"Who transferred your call over to me?" she asks, praying the woman on the other end hadn't been through any lines relating to the higher powers of her company.
"I have my ways," the woman coyly revealed. "Don't worry, this isn't going to becoming news unless you make it that way," she adds, understanding why Alex had asked the question she did. "You're all booked in, Alex. Can I take down an email so I can forward you the details later today?"
Thinking quickly on her feet, the brunette ponders what to disclose. Deciding it's best not to use anything associated with her workplace, she recites her personal Gmail account.
"I'll send you over some information later today with my office phone number so you can let me know if you have any problems."
"Great, thanks," Alex responds, a small smile adorning her lips.
"Thank you for your time. Have a good day, Ms Vause."
As the conversation ends and the phone is placed back down on its holder, Alex sits back. She fails to fight the toothy smile adorning her lips as she allows herself to think through what had just really happened. Is the one and only Piper Chapman trying to recruit her under the noses of her bosses? Only time will tell.
All this free time has given me a new idea.
More to come soon.