Kianna Newby was everything you wanted a woman, if you were into silicone boobs, a cement butt, and botoxed lips! I couldn’t stand her. She was the definition of nausea! The clock could not have moved any slower. I waited anxiously for the little hand of the giant golden clock to finally hit the five. I needed to find another job and quick. I was tired of hearing her nasally voice and watching her flash those crooked teeth at every security guard that walked by to secure the perimeter. Little did she know, all of those creepy bastards were all over that little dating website, Lots of Fish, and the nurses had a bulletin board of all of their profiles in the On Call room. I rolled my eyes, grabbed my shoulder bag, and walked around my desk for the exit.

“See you later Chloe!” Kianna whined voice and showed those Parana teeth.

I threw my hand up as I dashed out of the door. Working at this hospital was so exhausting. Don’t get me wrong. The work was cool but my coworkers were lazy, rude, and I wasn’t get paid enough to do my work and pick up their slack! They could have that $10.50 an hour! I had six more weeks till I finished my Bachelors in Journalism and I would be on my way to working for Patricia Downy, CEO of Downy Romance. I flipped shit when she came to the career fair a few weeks ago. I rarely go to those types of things, I just felt like most of those employers take your resume and trash them right after. I was walking through the fair like a doe in the headlights while tightly clutching my portfolio when she called me over to her booth. While the other employers were frantically handing out flyers and brochures, Patricia had this laid-back calmed demeanor. She had her feet propped on the booth and was sipping coffee as if she were on a boat in the middle of a lake just waiting to catch a fish. I was that fish. She reeled me in, captured my story in under ten minutes, and then finally asked “what do you have in that folder and why are you holding it so tight like that?” After giving her a snippet of my work, she pursed her lips together and twisted her mouth to the side. I looked away and waited for her to shatter some of pride.

“It’s good.” She said. “You have poten…” She stopped herself. “You have some things to learn, but you’re good. How long till you graduate?”

“Three months.”

“Here’s my cell. You text me the day you’re walking across that stage. I want you on my team.”

I remember feeling like I would piss myself from excitement. She gave me her card and wrote her cell number on the back. Then smiled and told me to “get on and don’t stop at anymore booths!”