"What are you doing?"
"Setting up my office."
"No…"
"No?"
"No, this is the speechwriter's office. You should be over in the policy bullpen."
"What? No, there's no way you get an office and I don't."
Otto plants his hands on the desk. "Bram, I'm telling you. Sam said this used to be his office, and since I'm a speechwriter now, that makes it my office."
"But it was Charlie's until literally five minutes ago, so that makes it my office now."
"Otto – "
"Lou, will you tell Bram to get out of my office?"
Lou glances up from her Blackberry, her eyebrows lifting with contempt before she returns to typing on the device. "You don't have an office, Otto. Your desk is out there." She jerks her head toward the communications bullpen.
"Told you."
"Shut up."
"Bram why are you in here anyway? You should be unpacking your things in the policy bullpen," adds Lou.
"But this is my office."
"You don't have an office either." She tucks her phone into her pocket and patronizingly adds, "Offices are for grown-ups." With an eye roll she leaves the room and heads next door to her own office.
Bram's shoulders fall a little and he puts the couple things he unpacked back in his box. "So then whose office is this?"
"Tell her I'll come over after senior staff," Amy says to her assistant as they part ways, the older woman entering the office.
"Hi Amy," both men say, Otto nervously, and Bram perhaps a bit too eagerly. Otto looks anywhere but at the brunette, and Bram removes his box from the desk as fast as he can, his eyes wide and his cheeks flushed as he looks at her. Amy smirks as she glances between them.
"Not that I don't love the idea of men cowering in my presence, but you both need to get out of my office."
The two young men quickly exit the office. Otto glances at the taller man. "Dude, are you blushing?"