This whole winter break I did homework. Wait, that didn't sound right (but it is).
Sorry for the slow updates in the future. Reviews encourage me, so you know what to do ;)
(BTW I have the tinest smidget of knowledge on what goes on at a modeling agency so bear with me pleeease.)
I don't own anything except for my OCS and concept. :)
Logan was starting to get antsy.
Yeah, he knew it would take a while to find a manager with only a phone book. He knew it would be a slim chance they'd find her name at all. There was an even slimmer chance that this one out of many knew a guy with a missing phone. He also knew it was kind of stupid to just be dialing away at every number, especially if it was going to take forty-five minutes.
But there was something driving him on that he didn't understand. Normally he would just put off searching until later, when he was bored. Now he was actually making an effort to find that one number in a sea of names, and giving himself reasonably valid reasons why. For one thing, a guy had last his phone. That was a decent reason, though normally Logan would still procrastinate trying to find the owner. The second reason, well, Logan actually did kind of like the manager he met today - Jasmine, that is.
Logan tried to wrap his mind around it. There was something about her that he was attracted to; not only the fact that she was incredibly better-looking than his other designers - crazy dyed hair and belly piercings and whatnot - but it was some kind of quality about her that made him stare. Especially the way she'd walked around in those black leather combat boots. That was definitely attractive.
Lindy snapped him from his thoughts when she slammed down the heavy book and let out a loud sigh. "Dude, we're gonna have to finish this at home."
"Seriously?" he said, frantically leaning back over the book, trying to find the page again. "We did not just spend fifty minutes here for nothing, all right? I'm finding her. That's it."
Lindy sent him a weird look. "What is it with you and this manager? Do you like her or something?"
He didn't look in her eyes. She was a little too good at knowing exactly what he was thinking. If she knew, well, he wouldn't be able to live it down. Plus, she would have the upperhand, and shut him down on looking through this whole book. That's what Logan would do, anyways.
"I do not," Logan declared matter-of-factly. "Besides, I barely know her."
"Fine, okay," Lindy amended, putting her hands in the air, "but if I didn't know any better, I'd say you were crushing."
Logan snorted - or, at least, attempted to. "Pfft. Let's get back to work."
Lindy glanced at a doorway marked Employee Break Room. "That damned secretary," she swore. "She must've known the guy - or the manager. Why didn't we ask her?"
"That means we only have one option left," he pointed out, trying to act casual about calling the mysterious manager.
Lindy sighed again and they flipped back to the page. "Fine. Jasmine Haylin's number is…"
Delia was going to strangle someone.
She stormed the lobby, without bothering to check in - hell, without bothering to even alert the lobby secretary that she was even there, jabbing the elevator button, muttering curses under her breath. It was around four in the afternoon, and many employees were leaving, all of them cowering from Delia's rage. Getting over their initial shock, they started staring at Delia in annoyance or amusement. Regardless, Delia threw them her most withering glare, and they shrunk back.
"Ma'am?" the secretary squeaked, forcing a calm smile. "Would you mind checking in? Do you have an appointment?"
The elevator door dinged. The doors slid open, and Delia walked in, completely ignoring her.
She tried again. "Ma'am. I need you to check in - !"
The doors closed.
Delia calmed her breathing. The people in this business are idiots. She rolled her eyes in contempt.
She tapped her foot impatiently as the elevator ascended to the second floor from the basement level. The elevator was awfully slow.
These dumbasses should get a new elevator, she quipped in her mind, completely and utterly irritated from the day's events.
When she finally arrived at the second story, she huffed a sigh of exasperation. Stomping into office two-two-three, she loudly exclaimed, "I am done with people and this bullshit."
"Nice to see you too, Deels," the brunette snarked wearily from the other side of the room, finishing up papers.
"I don't need your fricken sass today," Delia ranted. "Today's the day where I get my pay, right? Well Joy Windenburg - you know, that chick with the really bitchy attitude? My boss gives her a raise. A freaking raise! And guess what she did this month. She did one article on Cosmopolitan. And guess what section. The freaking sex section. And what did she do the entire month?"
"What," Jasmine asked flatly.
"You fricken know what," Delia fumed. "She just procrastinated the entire. Fricken. Time. She pores over the pictures of naked men and says she's 'doing work'. And guess what I'm doing?"
Jasmine said nothing, just looked up at her. By now, Delia was gripping the ends of Jasmine's desk.
"I'm over here doing, like, five articles for the TV Guide, a four-page monster of a thing for National Geographic, and like, a Victoria's Secret magazine! And my boss just, I don't know, saunters up to us and says" - here she does her practiced-and-perfect imitation of her boss - "'Joy, you're becoming quite the graphic designer. I've decided to give you a hundred-dollar raise.' Like, what?! I have the most fricken lousy boss ever."
Here Jasmine finally showed some emotion, sighing in agreement, "Tell me about it. Mine gave me two assignments to finish by next week, along with all these meetings where I get to 'coordinate shoots'. I don't even do that - management does!" She gestured wildly at the papers on her desk. "And now I have to sort out these papers for management to do my supposed job."
They sat in a comfortable silence together, relieved from the pressure.
"I'm taking you out for dinner, right?" Jasmine asked after a while.
"Yeah," Delia said. "First, why don't I help you clean up."
Together, they stacked piles of papers and put it in a folder. Delia caught Jasmine staring at one particular file for too long, and leaned over to see what it was.
It was a resumé. Logan Watson, it said. Jasmine caught Delia watching her and blushed.
"What was that?" Delia asked her, putting some more papers in the folder.
"Just a resumé," Jasmine said. Her cheeks were tinged pink.
"Please," Delia drawled, snatching the papers from her. She flipped through the paper-clipped stack. Inside were just pictures of a blonde male, with windblown hair and blue eyes. She looked up at Jasmine again and wiggled her eyebrows.
"You got a new hunk of man candy?" Delia teased.
"Shut up!" Jasmine said. Yep, Delia could see that blush from a mile away. "He just came in today for a meeting. I'm not open to dating yet, anyways."
"Well, your hormones declare otherwise," Delia smirked, giving her a knowing look. "Plus, Derek was just a douche. This guy could be your answer."
"I'm just not looking for a rebound, okay?"
"Fine," Delia said. After a moment of silence, she asked, "Did you at least get his number?"
"Stop it," Jasmine grinned, slapping her arm. Sweeping up the last of the forms, she stood up, stretching. "Ready to go, Deels?"
"Ready as ever," she replied.
Thirty minutes later, and Logan still had not found the mystery girl.
"We're leaving now," Lindy announced, frowning. "I have a math competition in like, thirty minutes."
"Oh, you mean the nerd herd meetups?" Logan scoffed. "You went to one a week ago. Does it matter if you miss it this one time?"
"First of all, we aren't nerds," Lindy corrected. "Second, yes. We're going to regionals. My team needs me."
"What your team really needs is a life."
"You just wish you were pulling A's in your college classes," Lindy said. "What classes do you do anyways? How to Strut on a Runway?"
"Ha ha," he said, flipping to a new page. "I'm just going to do one more number."
"Hurry up," she groaned.
Jasmine Kang. He prayed to his lucky stars that this was the one, and dialed the mobile phone number. After a long moment of waiting, a feminine voice was heard. "Hello?"
"Hi. I'm Logan Watson, do you remember meeting with me about… an hour ago?"
There was a pause. Logan vaguely heard a "go get 'em tiger" in the background.
"Um… yes."
Logan just about jumped for joy, he was so happy. "That's great. Uh, do you happen to know a guy? Missing a phone?"
"No? I'll let you know if I do though." A pause. "Is this your cell phone number?"
"Yeah."
"Cool. I'll… uh… keep my eyes open."
"Thanks. See you in a month."
When he hung up, Lindy looked at him expectantly. "Did you find her?"
"Yeah," he felt really happy for some reason, "but she didn't know the guy."
"So your ideas never really work then," Lindy said. "Let's go."
As they started for the door, Logan's cell phone rang. Annoyed, Lindy groaned, "What is it this time?"
The screen said, Gwen (heart emoji) (kissy emoji).
Then it hit him. He had a date with Gwen, his girlfriend! She must've been really upset that he stood her up, especially since this wasn't the first time that this happened. Logan tried to think about what to say. You completely slipped my mind would never work in a million years; I forgot was a lame remark. Logan was running out of excuses to give.
"Hello? Who's calling?" Lindy snapped,
"Uh, it's my girlfriend."
"You have a girlfriend? When did this happen?"
"I met her at one of your math competitions. She was at the nearby Starbucks."
Lindy shrugged. "You answer the call. I'll be in the car."
As soon as he answered it, he could hear her voice. "What the hell, Logan?"
"I'm sorry, Gwen, I lost track of time. I was at the agency, and a guy lost his phone, and we were searching for him."
"You would rather search for a stranger than be with your girlfriend?" The hard edge of her voice took on a disbelieving tone. "Why would you stand me up like this? For the third time?"
Damn, she was angry. Logan tried switching tactics.
"Listen to me, please? I'll go straight to your house and we can sort this out. Maybe watch a movie!"
"Don't bother." Her normally gentle sound was replaced by a cold tonality. "Me for a - a guy, even. That was low."
She hung up, and all Logan could hear was a light beeping and his heart thudding in his chest.