She was screwed.
That was the first coherent thought that shot through her aching head as she lazily blinked a few times when she woke up in her bed, staring at the manly figure laying next to her equally naked and supported her heavy, hung-over head. Quickly turning her head to the other side she propped up her sore body and groaned as she read the red digital numbers on her alarm clock. Frowning, she turned her attention back to the man laying there with his face down into the pillow, his messy dark brown hair shot into all directions.
She really needed to get rid of him otherwise she was going to be really late. Again. Which was not good. She really didn't need Bailey riding her ass after last week. She had to wake him up.
Poke.
No reaction. She poked him a few more times into his sides, each time a bit harder. She was probably going to leave some marks, she thought absentmindedly. Still no reaction. If it weren't for his heavy, loud snoring she'd have thought that he was dead.
Staring back at her alarm clock she groaned again as she realized she'd just wasted two precious minutes of her time by trying to wake his latest one night stand up. Unsuccessfully. She was so going to be late. Losing patience, she got up and wrapped the crisp white blanket securely around her nude body, tearing open the heavy curtains that held the bright sunrays back from illuminating her dark room.
Maybe some light will wake him up.
She looked back at him. "Hey!", she yelled at him and poked him again. Damn, that's one heavy sleeper, she thought. Letting out another frustrating groan she shoved him hard. Once. Twice. By the third time she was so aggravated that she just simply shoved him off her bed with her right foot. With a loud thud landing on the wooden floor, she heard with a devilish smile on her face her latest one night stand groaning as he clearly must've woken up from the impact of his fall. Seeing his figure standing up on the other side of the bed searching for his boxers she called him.
"Good morning!", she said with an angelic smile on her face as she caught his attention.
Her one night stand just groaned. "Oh my god, how did I manage to do that?!", he let out incredulously in an unexpected British accent.
She must've been really drunk to pick up some tourist.
"No idea", she replied innocently. "Look, I'm really late. So… I'm gonna go take a shower and when I get back you won't be here so… goodbye…uhm…", she trailed off not knowing how to continue seeing as she didn't know his name.
"Viper", her opponent provided helpfully with a wide grin. However that grin faded into a frown as realisation dawned on him as her words finally rang into his brain. "Wait, you're kicking me out?!"
"Viper…right" She really must've been shitfaced drunk to pick someone up named Viper. "Meredith", she replied and chose to ignore his latest outburst. Instead she just shook his still outstretched hand and quickly disappeared to her bathroom to take her long awaited shower.
She ought to stop getting drunk on work nights.
---
„You're late, Grey.", the short woman named Miranda Bailey, also known as her boss, called out when she saw her employee hurriedly striking past the receptionist's desk where she was giving out orders to her receptionist, straight to the wardrobe. "And you're not wearing heels. Again.", Meredith's employer observed as she missed the usual clicking noise of 3 inch heels while staring at Meredith's black, worn out converse sneakers. "Grey, how many more times do I have to tell you that heels are mandatory in this salon? You know the rule!", she lectured her again.
"That we wear heels not because they're oh so comfortable but because we're a beauty/fashion/styling salon and heels are part of this glamorous glitzy-ditzy world and we chose to be in this world when we took this job. And because Mrs. Lewis said so.", Meredith recited Bailey's rule #2 to her boss and silently waited for her punishment like a five-year old.
She just raised an eyebrow and brought her hands to her hips and gave her an inquiring look. "I'm waiting, Grey. What's your excuse this time?", she told her impatiently and kept glaring at her employee.
"I still haven't bought new heels, Mrs. Bailey. And the ones I have didn't fit with my clothes.", Meredith declared her standard "excuse" while taking off her beige trench coat and revealing a very stylish outfit indeed. Eyeing her figure, especially her choice of wardrobe critically, Bailey finally let her off the hook. "Let me guess, you sewed it again?", she inquired her knowingly as Meredith nodded uneasily under the watchful eye of her superior. "Fine, go get those spare Manolo's, they should fit with your clothes. Then go get up to Styling, you know Mrs. Jameson's coming this morning. She's going to need a whole new set for the gala dinner, the charity ball and a business meeting with her new partners. Now go!" , Bailey ordered.
As Meredith hurriedly took notes of her upcoming tasks she looked up again. "So does that mean I'm with Mrs. Hanson today?", wondering who her tutor of the day was.
"Mrs. Hanson's not coming. In fact she won't be stepping a foot in this salon anytime soon.", Bailey told her distractedly in a tone that meant she won't ever be coming back, while filling out some forms at the receptionist's desk.
"She…she's not coming anymore? Just like that?! But…but we're already short in Styling since Mr. Williams left last week!", Meredith let out, shocked by this unexpected and rather unsettling news. Because that meant that there were only three people left up in the Styling department: the current intern Mandy Connor, the chief of the Styling department Mr. Luke Livingston and her, the stylist's right hand or some sort of resident Meredith Grey. But since the chief had gone on a vacation for the next 3 months there were actually just Mandy and Meredith. "Well, do we have a replacement? The Snowflake Ball is coming up next week and we're all booked out! How are we supposed to manage all our clients when there's only me and Mandy?!"
"In fact, you're wrong Grey. There's only you. Mandy's on a sick leave or more an extended leave of absence…", Bailey explained, still not looking up to meet a completely freaked out Meredith.
"What do you mean, 'leave of absence'?! She's been an intern for…what… two weeks?", Meredith let out exasperated.
"Meredith, Mandy was in an accident last night. I want to see you walking in the day after you've had brain surgery.", Bailey remarked and finally looked up.
"What?! Brain surgery?!", Meredith screeched in horror. "But…so what about next week? Are we going to send our clients to 'Mitico Styles'?! Mrs. Lewis is going to be furious! Does…does she even know what's happening in Styling?!"
"Yes, she does so you better calm down. We've already found a solution.", Bailey tried to calm her. "You'll be running Styling.", she stated.
"I'll be running...I...wait... ME?!" This was a joke. In no way could Meredith Grey handle a whole department of a renowned Fashion Salon in New York, Manhattan, a week before the Snowflake Ball without a right hand! This was a bad joke. "This is a joke, right? You're kidding, right?", Meredith laughed a nervous smile, "They're not actually all missing, are they? Who set you up? Izzie? Oh, I swear…"
"Nobody's joking, Grey!", Bailey yelled, cutting her off. "I know this is serious…"
"Seriously?!", Meredith retorted.
"…but you're going to do just fine. Mrs. Lewis and I went through this, it's our best option. Our only option. You can do this, Grey. Don't underestimate yourself.", Bailey tried to comfort her. "You have a sixth sense when it comes to styling and you know it. Just go with what you think is right. We trust you on this one, Grey. Don't let us down!"
"But… I'm still going to need someone. At least one pair of hands to help me to at least organize the whole thing and get all the required clothes and accessories… and the re-organisation of our appointments!", Meredith tried to argue. How was she supposed to think clearly when an impossible task has been pushed into her hands just like that?
"Fine. You can get someone. But not someone from the salon, we're fully booked and need every single hand. Got get someone you think is able for that job you need him or her to do.", Bailey allowed. "But consult me first!" And with that she walked off to the Beauty department, leaving a very freaked out Meredith behind.
She was so screwed.