[Jenny Lesko]

I keep my gaze glued on the desktop and hardly ever blink or look back. The more projects I finish, the more free time I have later to start devising a plan. I don't have much time left. If I don't climb up to the highest rank at Hames Hollister Corp. by the end of the month, I can start introducing myself as Mrs. Hyde.

Dale carefully avoids me, as if he believes I can curse him. What's sure is that I won't let him play games with me. He can go and fuck Bella as much as he wants. He can even marry her, if he's happy with her. He just needs to stop sucking up to Hames and Hollister.

As I'm done with the third project for the day, I move on with the next one, the most complex to date. How am I supposed to make that draft more appealing to a potential audience without completely changing the story? I could ask for advice, but it's actually not worth it. The atmosphere around me is too hostile for me to hope someone will lend me a hand.

I read each line of the document and spot a few sentence structure mistakes, which I fix quickly. But here comes the hard part now: how to make the draft more interesting. I sigh, but never lose sight of the project. I repeat to myself, "I can do it, I can do it. Oh, I can fucking do it," a dozen times, as if it's my new motto.

The clock strikes 1PM, which means it's lunch time. I, however, not wanting to give in to temptations, stay at my desk and keep working. There must be a way to improve the draft without changing its structure or its essence.

In the span of ten minutes, I'm the only one still working. The rest are off to the cafeteria, or to some restaurant. I'm here to finish my job and won't stop until I'm done.

That's when an idea dawns on me. I proof read the draft for the twentieth time, which is when I finally understand I don't need to change anything else. This aspiring author is a gifted one. I'm not a literary agent; as such, I shouldn't be able to recognize talent on the get go. But, in this case, it's so obvious.

I save the document and prepare to send it for approval. I cross fingers. I feel like this is the hit that will save Hames Hollister Corp. from its demise, at least for now.

Only when I'm done and ready to move on to the next project, I notice that today I've worked on drafts that are all written in the same style. I look for some information about the sender, but I'm confused as I can't find anything about 'Adam Hersey.'

What if it's a pen name? But, then, who hides behind that pseudonym? Anyway, what matters is that I have two more projects by him to work on, and then I can finally devise my plan against the two snakes.

I move on to the next document and notice it's significantly shorter than the previous one. I skim through the first ten pages and realize it's poetry. How the fuck am I supposed to work on it? If I touch it, I'll ruin it.

I only check through the grammar and punctuation; then, I prepare to send this draft as well. It just come natural to me now. I feel like I can do this ten more times, but just one is enough. After all, it's not like I want to take up bulks of additional work, putting extra pressure on my shoulders.

I'm halfway into the last project from the batch, when Hames bursts in with his usual smug look. He looks and sounds even more annoying than ever. I try to keep my eyes glued on my work station, wanting to finish as soon as possible, but his voice distracts me.

"Okay, folks, I have news for you. Both good and bad." My level of distrust for that man and his partner in crime is so high that, to me, even the best news possible is bad. Of course, he starts with the good.

"Since you're all doing your best to keep your standards, as well as ours, high, Kara and I decided we should reward our most competent employees." It looks like my rank could go up, step by step, as I plan. That is, unless Hollister decides that, since I'm friends to Bella, whom she hates, she has the right to hold a grudge on me too.

He takes his usual motivational speech, which sounds extremely hypocritical, before calling my name, much to my delight. I approach him cautiously and accept his handshake. He doesn't know that I'm out to take over him and Hollister, though. Good for me. One day, he'll admit he's made a number of mistakes that can't be overlooked, and finally take responsibility for them.

Now, I'm the Chief Editor at the agency. With a greater role in my hands, I'll have to work even harder. I'm pleased at the idea of having more decisional power, which will allow me to devise my plan in closer detail. I accept congratulations here and there; then, I move back to my seat to finish the project.

Hames catches up with me. He says, "This is the last day you work at this desk, Jenny. Aren't you excited?" I nod between one correction and another. "From tomorrow, you'll have the honor to work neck to neck with us higher-ups." He rubs his hands, when I turn pale. He doesn't notice, fortunately.

This means he and Hollister will monitor every single move of mine. I'll have to be sly and subtle if I want to succeed. I can't let anything out. I can't trust anyone in this building, especially Dale Leathers. He's buddy-buddy with the higher-ups, which means he'll report literally anything, even toilet breaks.

I can't give up, though. Time's ticking and I can't afford to show any signs of weakness. The project is finally ready, and I can submit it. This Adam Hersey guy is extremely prolific, I have to admit. I worked on over thirty drafts by him and handed them to the publishing board through e-mails.

I have to contact him somehow. I want to commend him for his perseverance and hard work, as well as his writing style. If only I could turn my thousands of ideas into books... Yes, I should definitely restart writing. That's my calling. I think I have a chance to prepare something to publish... if I use a pen name.

My shift is over, so I turn the computer off, tidy the desk up and leave. Since I'm the last one standing in the office, I also have to lock the doors. I reach the elevator and head to ground floor. There, I'm greeted by a familiar face.

"Alex... What are you doing here? You... you're not supposed to be here!" I gasp, caught by surprise at his presence. Is he taking me out for dinner? Or does he have to confess something I've never suspected?

He suggests. "Let's ride to my place, okay?" I nod. Dreading another date with the man I love from the deep of my heart, I follow him, forgetting everything else. Fuck negativity, fuck shady plans. Fuck Hunter Hyde.

Alex Hills is the love of my life, and I plan to defend this feeling with every means.