speakwithourlipslocked

christoph-waltzed:

I remember in year 2 there was a girl who had literally never had a haircut so her hair was ridiculously long [imagine Rapunzel basically] and she always complained about it but her mum wouldn’t let her get  it cut

So one day at recess she put an entire pack of chewed gum in her hair at the exact length she wanted it cut to.

She came in the next day with her hair cut how she wanted it and a smug grin on her face and I knew that that girl was going places. 

Chapter 2: “Ariel Topchyan”

"You’re late." Ariel breathed out after backing her fifth shot of Tequila. "It’s nearly 10:30." 

I rolled my eyes before pulling out the bar-stool beside her. “Oh please, I’m here aren’t I? I had to edit and submit Paul’s statement to the Wisconsin Journal before I could so much as leave the office.” 

"Fuck Amber, you shouldn’t bring up you-know-who’s name while we’re drinking. Let alone work. It’s a buzz killer." 

I giggled aloud as I finally took my seat. “Sorry Harry, I wasn’t aware that Paul Whitman’s name was equivalent to that of Lord Voldemort’s. You have my sincerest apologies.” 

"No worries…" She patted me firmly on the back. "All is forgiven." 

As we chuckled at our own shenanigans, the bartender suddenly took notice of my presence and greeted me with a flirtatious smile. “Well hello there, beautiful. What would you like this evening?” 

Ariel began nudging me before I could even answer, mouthing ‘He’s into you.’ after each sarcastic wink. 

My goodness, would she give me a break already? I’ll date when I’m damn good and ready to do so. 

Ariel’s always been a great friend to me… more so, really. I met her three years prior to the campaign at my old office in New Jersey, when I was fresh out of college. I remember our first encounter most clearly because our first words shared were those of spontaneous anger. 

It was a Tuesday morning and I had just entered the lobby elevator, when the files held in my left arm collapsed onto the hardened floor. So, keeping my searing cappuccino steady in one hand, I cautiously bent down to gather the files back into my arms. Little did I know, a 6-foot-tall Armenian woman with thick black hair held in a tight bun- Ariel- was running late to a meeting on the 14th floor… and the steel doors had yet to close. Needless to say, she ran into the elevator and immediately fell on top of me… causing my immensely hot drink to spill all over my dress and loose papers. 

{ “Skkkk… OUCH!” I screeched in utter rage. “What the fuck, lady!?! You just ruined my whole outfit! Not to mention all of these papers that are now completely fucking useless! I was CLEARLY picking up my files!”

"What the hell are you talking about!?! You’re the one crawling around on the floor like a wild fucking animal! How the fuck was I supposed to know that you were on the ground?" She barked back. 

"Oh, I dunno… Maybe you could USE YOUR EYES AND LOOK WHERE YOU ARE WALKING! Or in this case, RUNNING." 

"Well excUUUUUSE THE FUCK OUTTA ME FOR RUNNING A BIT BEHIND THIS MORNING! Some people aren’t as perfect as you, and we can’t all control the rush-hour traffic. Unlike you, I don’t have any time to doddle around playing make-believe on the floor." 

"I TOLD YOU I WAS PICKING UP MY FILES!" I threw the coffee cup against the wall and sat myself completely on the ground. "… not that it matters now… the files are ruined… I’m going to lose my job for this." 

She took a forcefully deep breath before bending down and taking a knee beside me. “Look… I’m sorry I ran into you like I did. And I’m sorry that your dress and files are now drenched in coffee because of me. I can explain to your boss what happened and that it was completely my fault.” 

"Thanks, but don’t bother. My boss could care less if I got hit by a truck and was paralyzed… If those files weren’t on his desk by 8am, he’d still fire me." 

We were both silent for a long moment, neither of us knowing quite what to say. 

"Hey!" She exclaimed with sudden joy. "What if I could offer another solution?" 

"What? Are you going to give me a new job?" I scoffed, being blatantly sarcastic. 

"Yeah. That’s exactly what I’m going to do." 

*Ding!* 

The elevator door opened on the 14th floor as I stared blankly, wondering if I had heard her correctly. 

"A-are you serious?" 

"I’ve never been more so in my life." 

"Buh-b-but… But…" I stuttered like an idiot. "But, you… you don’t even know my profession. Or whether or not I have the right credentials. You don’t even know if I graduated with a degree." 

"Did you?" 

"Well… yeah." 

She laughed. “Then what more is there to know?” 

I furrowed my brows… Still unsure if she was pulling my leg. “There’s a bunch more to know! You can’t just give somebody a random job without knowing their qualifications.” 

"Can you type?" 

"Uh… Yeah." 

"Can you sort?" 

"Yeah."

"Can you construct a decent sentence in modern English?" 

"Sure, I guess." 

"Excellent. Then you’re more than qualified." 

My physique remaining dazed and my mind remaining confused, I tried desperately to wrap my mind around the foreign concept. “Sooo…..” 

"So, you’re hired." She stood and extended her hand, although I was unsure whether she meant for me to shake it or to use it as leverage and stand with her. 

As our hands connected, she helped me up and then promptly shook my hand to seal the deal. 

She reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out an ivory-colored business card with the name ‘Ariel Topchyan’ printed cleanly on the center. “Give me a call tomorrow and we’ll further discuss the details.” 

"Yeah, uh, sure thing." 

Stepping half-way out the door, she pointed at me. “What’s you’re name by the way?” 

"Amber. Amber Ginnifer Smith." 

She cringed. “Eiw.” 

"Yeah," I gulped nervously. "I know." 

"It’s not a very flattering combination. Although I do like ‘Ginnifer’… ‘Ginnifer’ sounds a bit exotic. It has definite potential. I’ll call you ‘Ginnifer’ from now on." 

"O-okay." 

Without further word, she proceeded to exit the elevator and make her way down the hall. 

"Thanks!" I yelled within her ear-shot, but she simply replied with a raising of the hand as she continued to walk away.} 

Since that day, we not only grew to become long-time co-workers, but dear friends. Which says a lot because the only dependable friend I’ve had for a majority of my young life decided to move all the way to Los Angeles for her ‘aspiring film career’- but we’ll get to Elise later. 

"Well don’t keep the poor fella waiting, Ginnifer. Tell him what you want!" 

"I, uh, I’ll just have an iced tea. Thank you." I nodded off the bartender as he shook his head in disappointment and walked to the other end of the bar. 

Ariel turned to me, livid, nearly about to smack me upside the head. “An iced tea? Seriously?… You’re at a bar with a sexy bartender who’s obviously interested in you, and you order an ICED TEA? Excuse me for not asking earlier, but were you, in fact, dropped on your head as an infant? Do you have some sort of brain tumor that you’ve yet to inform me of?” 

"We have work tomorrow, Ariel. I can’t just spend the evening drinking my worries away." 

She snorted and backed another shot. “Well, I certainly can. How else do you think I could deal with Paul’s ignorant bullshit? I’m tellin’ ya Ginnifer, you try making that sexist prick look golden for a day, and then tell me that you wouldn’t be forced to resort to alcohol. It’s my responsibility to keep myself moderately sane.” 

"I’m not judging your choices." 

"Yes you are." Ariel abruptly made her statement. "But that’s irrelevant because you know that I could give a shit less about my public image. I’m just a healthy alcoholic; *hiccup* that’s all there is to it." 

"I don’t think that there is such a thing as a healthy alcoholic. I think that kind of defeats the purpose of deeming yourself an alcoholic." 

"Regardless, the irony is fucking intense isn’t it?" 

"Okay…" I slid the remaining shots down the bar and out of her reach. "I think that’s enough tequila for tonight. Let’s get you home." 

"You *hiccup* you, uh *hiccup* you think so? *hiccup*" 

I slid my arm around her back and left some spare change on the counter. “Yeah, I do. Come on, I’ll drive you back.” 



[Hey there everyone! I hope that you’re enjoying the story so far and that I’m not boring you too greatly. Ralph will make his appearance in the next chapter; I just needed to establish a bit of a background first. Thanks so much for reading and being patient with me. -C.C. Clayton]

Chapter 2: “Ariel Topchyan”

"You’re late." Ariel breathed out after backing her fifth shot of Tequila. "It’s nearly 10:30."

I rolled my eyes before pulling out the bar-stool beside her. “Oh please, I’m here aren’t I? I had to edit and submit Paul’s statement to the Wisconsin Journal before I could so much as leave the office.”

"Fuck Amber, you shouldn’t bring up you-know-who’s name while we’re drinking. Let alone work. It’s a buzz killer."

I giggled aloud as I finally took my seat. “Sorry Harry, I wasn’t aware that Paul Whitman’s name was equivalent to that of Lord Voldemort’s. You have my sincerest apologies.”

"No worries…" She patted me firmly on the back. "All is forgiven."

As we chuckled at our own shenanigans, the bartender suddenly took notice of my presence and greeted me with a flirtatious smile. “Well hello there, beautiful. What would you like this evening?”

Ariel began nudging me before I could even answer, mouthing ‘He’s into you.’ after each sarcastic wink.

My goodness, would she give me a break already? I’ll date when I’m damn good and ready to do so.

Ariel’s always been a great friend to me… more so, really. I met her three years prior to the campaign at my old office in New Jersey, when I was fresh out of college. I remember our first encounter most clearly because our first words shared were those of spontaneous anger.

It was a Tuesday morning and I had just entered the lobby elevator, when the files held in my left arm collapsed onto the hardened floor. So, keeping my searing cappuccino steady in one hand, I cautiously bent down to gather the files back into my arms. Little did I know, a 6-foot-tall Armenian woman with thick black hair held in a tight bun- Ariel- was running late to a meeting on the 14th floor… and the steel doors had yet to close. Needless to say, she ran into the elevator and immediately fell on top of me… causing my immensely hot drink to spill all over my dress and loose papers.

{ “Skkkk… OUCH!” I screeched in utter rage. “What the fuck, lady!?! You just ruined my whole outfit! Not to mention all of these papers that are now completely fucking useless! I was CLEARLY picking up my files!”

"What the hell are you talking about!?! You’re the one crawling around on the floor like a wild fucking animal! How the fuck was I supposed to know that you were on the ground?" She barked back.

"Oh, I dunno… Maybe you could USE YOUR EYES AND LOOK WHERE YOU ARE WALKING! Or in this case, RUNNING."

"Well excUUUUUSE THE FUCK OUTTA ME FOR RUNNING A BIT BEHIND THIS MORNING! Some people aren’t as perfect as you, and we can’t all control the rush-hour traffic. Unlike you, I don’t have any time to doddle around playing make-believe on the floor."

"I TOLD YOU I WAS PICKING UP MY FILES!" I threw the coffee cup against the wall and sat myself completely on the ground. "… not that it matters now… the files are ruined… I’m going to lose my job for this."

She took a forcefully deep breath before bending down and taking a knee beside me. “Look… I’m sorry I ran into you like I did. And I’m sorry that your dress and files are now drenched in coffee because of me. I can explain to your boss what happened and that it was completely my fault.”

"Thanks, but don’t bother. My boss could care less if I got hit by a truck and was paralyzed… If those files weren’t on his desk by 8am, he’d still fire me."

We were both silent for a long moment, neither of us knowing quite what to say.

"Hey!" She exclaimed with sudden joy. "What if I could offer another solution?"

"What? Are you going to give me a new job?" I scoffed, being blatantly sarcastic.

"Yeah. That’s exactly what I’m going to do."

*Ding!*

The elevator door opened on the 14th floor as I stared blankly, wondering if I had heard her correctly.

"A-are you serious?"

"I’ve never been more so in my life."

"Buh-b-but… But…" I stuttered like an idiot. "But, you… you don’t even know my profession. Or whether or not I have the right credentials. You don’t even know if I graduated with a degree."

"Did you?"

"Well… yeah."

She laughed. “Then what more is there to know?”

I furrowed my brows… Still unsure if she was pulling my leg. “There’s a bunch more to know! You can’t just give somebody a random job without knowing their qualifications.”

"Can you type?"

"Uh… Yeah."

"Can you sort?"

"Yeah."

"Can you construct a decent sentence in modern English?"

"Sure, I guess."

"Excellent. Then you’re more than qualified."

My physique remaining dazed and my mind remaining confused, I tried desperately to wrap my mind around the foreign concept. “Sooo…..”

"So, you’re hired." She stood and extended her hand, although I was unsure whether she meant for me to shake it or to use it as leverage and stand with her.

As our hands connected, she helped me up and then promptly shook my hand to seal the deal.

She reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out an ivory-colored business card with the name ‘Ariel Topchyan’ printed cleanly on the center. “Give me a call tomorrow and we’ll further discuss the details.”

"Yeah, uh, sure thing."

Stepping half-way out the door, she pointed at me. “What’s you’re name by the way?”

"Amber. Amber Ginnifer Smith."

She cringed. “Eiw.”

"Yeah," I gulped nervously. "I know."

"It’s not a very flattering combination. Although I do like ‘Ginnifer’… ‘Ginnifer’ sounds a bit exotic. It has definite potential. I’ll call you ‘Ginnifer’ from now on."

"O-okay."

Without further word, she proceeded to exit the elevator and make her way down the hall.

"Thanks!" I yelled within her ear-shot, but she simply replied with a raising of the hand as she continued to walk away.}

Since that day, we not only grew to become long-time co-workers, but dear friends. Which says a lot because the only dependable friend I’ve had for a majority of my young life decided to move all the way to Los Angeles for her ‘aspiring film career’- but we’ll get to Elise later.

"Well don’t keep the poor fella waiting, Ginnifer. Tell him what you want!"

"I, uh, I’ll just have an iced tea. Thank you." I nodded off the bartender as he shook his head in disappointment and walked to the other end of the bar.

Ariel turned to me, livid, nearly about to smack me upside the head. “An iced tea? Seriously?… You’re at a bar with a sexy bartender who’s obviously interested in you, and you order an ICED TEA? Excuse me for not asking earlier, but were you, in fact, dropped on your head as an infant? Do you have some sort of brain tumor that you’ve yet to inform me of?”

"We have work tomorrow, Ariel. I can’t just spend the evening drinking my worries away."

She snorted and backed another shot. “Well, I certainly can. How else do you think I could deal with Paul’s ignorant bullshit? I’m tellin’ ya Ginnifer, you try making that sexist prick look golden for a day, and then tell me that you wouldn’t be forced to resort to alcohol. It’s my responsibility to keep myself moderately sane.”

"I’m not judging your choices."

"Yes you are." Ariel abruptly made her statement. "But that’s irrelevant because you know that I could give a shit less about my public image. I’m just a healthy alcoholic; *hiccup* that’s all there is to it."

"I don’t think that there is such a thing as a healthy alcoholic. I think that kind of defeats the purpose of deeming yourself an alcoholic."

"Regardless, the irony is fucking intense isn’t it?"

"Okay…" I slid the remaining shots down the bar and out of her reach. "I think that’s enough tequila for tonight. Let’s get you home."

"You *hiccup* you, uh *hiccup* you think so? *hiccup*"

I slid my arm around her back and left some spare change on the counter. “Yeah, I do. Come on, I’ll drive you back.”

[Hey there everyone! I hope that you’re enjoying the story so far and that I’m not boring you too greatly. Ralph will make his appearance in the next chapter; I just needed to establish a bit of a background first. Thanks so much for reading and being patient with me. -C.C. Clayton]

Chapter 1: “Wisconsin’s It-Man”

"Ah, here you are, Ginny." The new, scrawny intern smiled boyishly as he handed me my morning coffee. As polite and conservative as he was, no force in the world could hide the thick New Jersey accent that followed his words.

"Thank you, uh… um… yeah, thanks." I smirked, feeling regretful for constantly forgetting his name -especially since he knew mine well enough to establish his own nickname for me. 

Clever boy, really. He must’ve caught on quickly to things, having heard my close colleague, Ariel, calling me by my middle name throughout the office. Thinking back on it now, Ginny proves a much better fit than Ginnifer. Honestly, could there be a more god-awful name than Amber Ginnifer Smith? It’s as if my parents already realized the generic aftertaste of my maiden name and gave up on its being altogether.

He carefully slicked back his greasy black hair before nervously shrugging. “It, uh, it was nothing really. The guys send me on coffee runs around the clock, so I’m always on my feet. You know, Ginny, if you ever need anything… I mean anything… you just give me a holler and I’ll be here in an instant.” 

"Yeah, uh, thank you. I mean, I truly appreciate it." 

"Ah, it’s nothing. Is there anything else I can get for you, Ginny? I know you’ve got a long week ahead of you." He glanced down at the messy stacks of papers I had sprawled all over my desk. 

"No, no, I’m alright." I grinned back awkwardly, internally yearning for his absence so that I could get back to work. 

Please leave me be. 

"Oh, okay." He scratched at the back of his neck before heading through the glass door. "Yeah, um, okay then. Bye, Ginny. We’ll talk soon?" 

I nodded once to strengthen his assurance. “Certainly.” 

Thank God. It’s far too early for me to be sociable. Especially when I have such a work-filled day ahead of me.

Just as I’d finally sat and managed to calm myself, Paul Whitman came knocking with yet another stack of files in his arms… and smiling as he did so. 

It’s Paul… great… 

Paul Scott Whitman was Wisconsin’s favorite 42 year-old it-man, and had proven to be the most note-worthy candidate for our state governor. His white-collar lifestyle and obvious sense of entitlement would often stir in the presses and spill from the mouths of his opponents. His lack of humble wisdom aside, Paul, nevertheless, enjoyed the attention that shaped his campaign and savored its new-car smell. He was a politician, a narcissist, an open ‘family-man’, and, frankly, a bit of a sexist ass. Better yet, he was my boss. 

"Ms. Smith, I presume you’ve finished my speech for the annual U.C.W. (Underprivileged Children of Wisconsin) charity event this Saturday?" 

"Yes, Sir. I left it in your box last Friday." I tried not to let his incompetence bother me as he showed himself into my office. 

"Good… Good…" He dropped the new files onto my desk with unnecessary force, as if to emphasize his dominance over me. "I’ll expect these to be sorted by this afternoon, of course." 

"… of course, Sir." 

Paul grinned again… ah, that friendly election winning smile… and placed his hands into the pockets of his black, custom-made suit. “Yes, that-a-girl.” 

His chauvinistic attitude and fumbling hands made me wonder if he was playing a solitary game of pocket-pool. The thought left me physically repulsed. 

Disgusting pig. 

As his eyes traveled down the visible bit of my cleavage, I folded my arms and leaned back into my chair. “Is that all, Sir?” 

"Mmm yes," he breathed heavily. "That’s all…. You know, Amber, I have to hand it to you and give credit where credit’s due…" 

Paul placed his hands on the corner of the desk and leaned more closely. “You have an excellent way with words; it’s a true gift. God, could you imagine if I wrote my own public addresses? Well, I certainly wouldn’t be where I most obviously am now.” 

I forced a half-smile as he tucked my hair behind my ear. “I… I’m glad to hear that, Sir.” 

The stubble on his cheek brushed against my face while he proceeded to whisper in my ear. “Such a pretty girl you are…Blonde hair, Blue eyes… And I can only imagine what you can do with that feisty little mouth of yours.”

Coughing as I inhaled his overpowering cologne, my watering eyes managed to spot Ariel through the glass wall. 

"Ginnifer!…." she choked out as she entered. "Um.. Uh.. Sorry to interrupt, Paul, but could I speak with Ms. Smith for a moment?" 

He immediately straightened his posture. “Of course….. I was just leaving anyhow.” 

His fingers traced across the front of my desk and onto my now luke-warm coffee cup. 

You wouldn’t dare…

Shivers went down my spine as he raised the white cup to his lips and indulged in a long, lengthy sip of my latte. 

"Mmmmm…" he moaned. "Vanilla." 

Ariel and I kept our blank stares set upon him as he placed the contaminated cup back down and left my office. 

Words cannot describe how much I despise that man. 

Once Paul was out of sight, Ariel ran to my side in a frantic panic. “Ginnifer, are you alright?” 

no. 

"Yeah… Yeah, I’m alright. He was just being his usual self." 

She bit down onto the fatty bit of her lower lip. “I’ve never seen him act so inappropriate towards you… at least not in the workplace. I swear, part of me hates the board for setting me up as his campaign manager. I could care less about the pay… I’d give anything to see that asshole crash and burn at the end of the term.” 

"You and me both, Ariel." I squeezed my eyes shut and began to massage my temples. 

Examining my distress, she took a large pile from the stack of unsorted files I had sprawled about my desk. “Here, let me help you take care of these…” 

"Oh no, Ariel, don’t. I have it all under control. It’s just a bit of paperwork… it’s harmless, really." 

"Just a bit of paperwork? Okay, it’s official; you’ve finally gone off the deep end." She added more to the pile and then started walking toward the door. "You’re coming out for drinks with me tonight and I’m paying, no exceptions." 

"Ariel… It’s Monday. We have a shitload of work to get done the next morning…" 

"NO EXCEPTIONS, GINNIFER. You’re ass better be at Barney’s at ten or I will hunt you down and kidnap you. Trust me, you won’t like how much duct tape I use." 

Ugh… fine.

Chapter 1: “Wisconsin’s It-Man”

"Ah, here you are, Ginny." The new, scrawny intern smiled boyishly as he handed me my morning coffee. As polite and conservative as he was, no force in the world could hide the thick New Jersey accent that followed his words.

"Thank you, uh… um… yeah, thanks." I smirked, feeling regretful for constantly forgetting his name -especially since he knew mine well enough to establish his own nickname for me.

Clever boy, really. He must’ve caught on quickly to things, having heard my close colleague, Ariel, calling me by my middle name throughout the office. Thinking back on it now, Ginny proves a much better fit than Ginnifer. Honestly, could there be a more god-awful name than Amber Ginnifer Smith? It’s as if my parents already realized the generic aftertaste of my maiden name and gave up on its being altogether.

He carefully slicked back his greasy black hair before nervously shrugging. “It, uh, it was nothing really. The guys send me on coffee runs around the clock, so I’m always on my feet. You know, Ginny, if you ever need anything… I mean anything… you just give me a holler and I’ll be here in an instant.”

"Yeah, uh, thank you. I mean, I truly appreciate it."

"Ah, it’s nothing. Is there anything else I can get for you, Ginny? I know you’ve got a long week ahead of you." He glanced down at the messy stacks of papers I had sprawled all over my desk.

"No, no, I’m alright." I grinned back awkwardly, internally yearning for his absence so that I could get back to work.

Please leave me be.

"Oh, okay." He scratched at the back of his neck before heading through the glass door. "Yeah, um, okay then. Bye, Ginny. We’ll talk soon?"

I nodded once to strengthen his assurance. “Certainly.”

Thank God. It’s far too early for me to be sociable. Especially when I have such a work-filled day ahead of me.

Just as I’d finally sat and managed to calm myself, Paul Whitman came knocking with yet another stack of files in his arms… and smiling as he did so.

It’s Paul… great…

Paul Scott Whitman was Wisconsin’s favorite 42 year-old it-man, and had proven to be the most note-worthy candidate for our state governor. His white-collar lifestyle and obvious sense of entitlement would often stir in the presses and spill from the mouths of his opponents. His lack of humble wisdom aside, Paul, nevertheless, enjoyed the attention that shaped his campaign and savored its new-car smell. He was a politician, a narcissist, an open ‘family-man’, and, frankly, a bit of a sexist ass. Better yet, he was my boss.

"Ms. Smith, I presume you’ve finished my speech for the annual U.C.W. (Underprivileged Children of Wisconsin) charity event this Saturday?"

"Yes, Sir. I left it in your box last Friday." I tried not to let his incompetence bother me as he showed himself into my office.

"Good… Good…" He dropped the new files onto my desk with unnecessary force, as if to emphasize his dominance over me. "I’ll expect these to be sorted by this afternoon, of course."

"… of course, Sir."

Paul grinned again… ah, that friendly election winning smile… and placed his hands into the pockets of his black, custom-made suit. “Yes, that-a-girl.”

His chauvinistic attitude and fumbling hands made me wonder if he was playing a solitary game of pocket-pool. The thought left me physically repulsed.

Disgusting pig.

As his eyes traveled down the visible bit of my cleavage, I folded my arms and leaned back into my chair. “Is that all, Sir?”

"Mmm yes," he breathed heavily. "That’s all…. You know, Amber, I have to hand it to you and give credit where credit’s due…"

Paul placed his hands on the corner of the desk and leaned more closely. “You have an excellent way with words; it’s a true gift. God, could you imagine if I wrote my own public addresses? Well, I certainly wouldn’t be where I most obviously am now.”

I forced a half-smile as he tucked my hair behind my ear. “I… I’m glad to hear that, Sir.”

The stubble on his cheek brushed against my face while he proceeded to whisper in my ear. “Such a pretty girl you are…Blonde hair, Blue eyes… And I can only imagine what you can do with that feisty little mouth of yours.”

Coughing as I inhaled his overpowering cologne, my watering eyes managed to spot Ariel through the glass wall.

"Ginnifer!…." she choked out as she entered. "Um.. Uh.. Sorry to interrupt, Paul, but could I speak with Ms. Smith for a moment?"

He immediately straightened his posture. “Of course….. I was just leaving anyhow.”

His fingers traced across the front of my desk and onto my now luke-warm coffee cup.

You wouldn’t dare…

Shivers went down my spine as he raised the white cup to his lips and indulged in a long, lengthy sip of my latte.

"Mmmmm…" he moaned. "Vanilla."

Ariel and I kept our blank stares set upon him as he placed the contaminated cup back down and left my office.

Words cannot describe how much I despise that man.

Once Paul was out of sight, Ariel ran to my side in a frantic panic. “Ginnifer, are you alright?”

no.

"Yeah… Yeah, I’m alright. He was just being his usual self."

She bit down onto the fatty bit of her lower lip. “I’ve never seen him act so inappropriate towards you… at least not in the workplace. I swear, part of me hates the board for setting me up as his campaign manager. I could care less about the pay… I’d give anything to see that asshole crash and burn at the end of the term.”

"You and me both, Ariel." I squeezed my eyes shut and began to massage my temples.

Examining my distress, she took a large pile from the stack of unsorted files I had sprawled about my desk. “Here, let me help you take care of these…”

"Oh no, Ariel, don’t. I have it all under control. It’s just a bit of paperwork… it’s harmless, really."

"Just a bit of paperwork? Okay, it’s official; you’ve finally gone off the deep end." She added more to the pile and then started walking toward the door. "You’re coming out for drinks with me tonight and I’m paying, no exceptions."

"Ariel… It’s Monday. We have a shitload of work to get done the next morning…"

"NO EXCEPTIONS, GINNIFER. You’re ass better be at Barney’s at ten or I will hunt you down and kidnap you. Trust me, you won’t like how much duct tape I use."

Ugh… fine.

destined2own
destined2own:

Conquest for the Hunter
Rated M for mature audiences only
Description: The notorious S.S. Colonel Hans Landa holds his lust for a young woman delicately between his fingers. In the darkest hours of the night, he cannot remove the image of her angelic face from his mind. Is it infatuation or something more? The thing he ponders most is if he can make her pure and young soul his.
Chapter 1
"Charlotte, in German please." Colonel Hans Landa remarked in his native tongue of German, bobbing his head toward the brunette girl who sat merely feet away from him.
She was a young girl in her twenties, but yet still very innocent. One could tell that, despite her angelic features, she wasn’t very experienced with boys or men for that matter. She cared about her education and knowledge more than anything. She was a good academic and a fast learner. She learned English in school but her native language was, of course, French. Being stationed in France for so long, Hans was able to meet many people of all personas. One day, fate happened to bring Hans knocking on Charlotte’s door in a literal sense.
Upon interviewing someone in the apartment complex he was visiting, Charlotte had stumbled into their private meeting. Embarrassed and shy, Charlotte apologized for barging in as blush graced her cheeks. With a charming grin, Hans insisted it was nothing to worry about as long as she didn’t do it again, he had teased. Evidently, he ended up taking it upon himself to question her as well, but little did he know at the time that he would get more than he bargained for.
Hans had liked her ambitiousness, and her dedication to learn about new things. Charlotte wanted to see the world. She was intelligent and, most of all, so beautiful. He admired her as she spoke of her dreams. That twinkle in her eye when she spoke of something so intimately to him made his stomach feel light, made him tingle and get goose flesh. She was so precious in a vast number of ways, and when he found himself alone in his quiet office, he pondered what exactly lured him to her. It was like a gravitational pull of desire.
After their first meeting, he wanted to see her more frequently. He made excuses to be in the building just to get a glimpse or to specifically see her bright white set of teeth when she beamed over at him. He yearned to feel the heat of her curious emerald eyes scanning his backside when he wasn’t looking. He yearned to teach her new things if she was willing to learn. Most of all, he just wanted to have her all to himself.
After a few instances of actually getting invited inside Charlotte’s apartment, Charlotte had spoke of how she wanted to learn German but could not find someone to properly teach and guide her through the complex and difficult process. That’s when the lightbulb went off in Hans’ head on how he could take her innocence away. How he could turn this good, obedient girl into the complete opposite.
Hans found himself thinking about Charlotte in the deepest, darkest hours of the night in his Paris home. As he lie on his back in the middle of his bed and listened to the sound of his calming, slow breaths, her image would burn in his head and fill him with bliss. Even after he was done, the Jew Hunter craved more..

destined2own:

Conquest for the Hunter

Rated M for mature audiences only

Description: The notorious S.S. Colonel Hans Landa holds his lust for a young woman delicately between his fingers. In the darkest hours of the night, he cannot remove the image of her angelic face from his mind. Is it infatuation or something more? The thing he ponders most is if he can make her pure and young soul his.

Chapter 1

"Charlotte, in German please." Colonel Hans Landa remarked in his native tongue of German, bobbing his head toward the brunette girl who sat merely feet away from him.

She was a young girl in her twenties, but yet still very innocent. One could tell that, despite her angelic features, she wasn’t very experienced with boys or men for that matter. She cared about her education and knowledge more than anything. She was a good academic and a fast learner. She learned English in school but her native language was, of course, French. Being stationed in France for so long, Hans was able to meet many people of all personas. One day, fate happened to bring Hans knocking on Charlotte’s door in a literal sense.

Upon interviewing someone in the apartment complex he was visiting, Charlotte had stumbled into their private meeting. Embarrassed and shy, Charlotte apologized for barging in as blush graced her cheeks. With a charming grin, Hans insisted it was nothing to worry about as long as she didn’t do it again, he had teased. Evidently, he ended up taking it upon himself to question her as well, but little did he know at the time that he would get more than he bargained for.

Hans had liked her ambitiousness, and her dedication to learn about new things. Charlotte wanted to see the world. She was intelligent and, most of all, so beautiful. He admired her as she spoke of her dreams. That twinkle in her eye when she spoke of something so intimately to him made his stomach feel light, made him tingle and get goose flesh. She was so precious in a vast number of ways, and when he found himself alone in his quiet office, he pondered what exactly lured him to her. It was like a gravitational pull of desire.

After their first meeting, he wanted to see her more frequently. He made excuses to be in the building just to get a glimpse or to specifically see her bright white set of teeth when she beamed over at him. He yearned to feel the heat of her curious emerald eyes scanning his backside when he wasn’t looking. He yearned to teach her new things if she was willing to learn. Most of all, he just wanted to have her all to himself.

After a few instances of actually getting invited inside Charlotte’s apartment, Charlotte had spoke of how she wanted to learn German but could not find someone to properly teach and guide her through the complex and difficult process. That’s when the lightbulb went off in Hans’ head on how he could take her innocence away. How he could turn this good, obedient girl into the complete opposite.

Hans found himself thinking about Charlotte in the deepest, darkest hours of the night in his Paris home. As he lie on his back in the middle of his bed and listened to the sound of his calming, slow breaths, her image would burn in his head and fill him with bliss. Even after he was done, the Jew Hunter craved more..