Beck began to look at the girl properly the moment she started talking. The first thing he noticed were the tattoos. He couldn’t see them properly since she was wearing a pant suit, he could tell she did not like to wear it, but it was enough for her to see a few tattoos here and there. Judging from her reaction to this whole thing she was not in a pleasant mood, the again who would be in this scenario. It was probably more than that though, she looked like she hated her job, and not in the “work sucks” kind of way. It was more like “everyone on the goddamn floor could drop dead for all I care” kind of feeling. He could relate on the former since he was having a crappy day as well, but he did like his job.<br/><br/>His official title was “assistant supervisor to the editor in chief’s assistant manager”, which roughly translated was equal to “assistant to the assistant of the editor in shief” in the publishing department. In simplified terms, it was his job to be a personal assistant. At the very least, he had decent to maybe great pay, had a great contract, and he worked in an environment that he liked. That being said no amount of love for writing would ever replace his hatred towards his boss, a woman. His boss was the person who worked under the editor in chief. The editor chief was a nice man, who actually seemed to like him and saw some potential in him, but his boss was a total asshole, she is a woman, but it was better to call her an ass hole. Beck would have felt guilt about it, but really, everyone in the office, even the people in the other departments knew about her. Heck, he was quite sure even the chief knew about the woman. Not that anyone could do anything about it since she was good at her job and she had many connections to powerful, famous and rich people.<br/><br/>Today she was extra ass holey though. It was because of some minor thing, toast. As she said it “my bitch of a personal maid forgot to heat my toast the right way today so I’d like you” she was referring to Beck “go to Pallete’s and get me my low fat breakfast meal.” Pallete’s was an exceptionally high-class restaurant uptown, apparently one of the cooks made meals for her. The whole thing reminded him of the Devil’s Wear Prada, but at least in that movie Anne Hathaway got something out of the whole thing. In his case, the only way he’d ever get rid of her was if he quit which is never going to happen, or the woman gets married to some equally rich guy who would potentially drive off to the sunset and hopefully off a cliff.<br/><br/>“Hmm serial killer? Nah…unless wishing for your ass hole of a boss to get married and drive off into the sunset and hopefully off a cliff sounds serial killer-y then no.” He was joking of course, but that being said it wouldn’t be that bad if she did go away. That way he gets to be the proper assistant, and maybe start writing his own work.<br/><br/>“Nice name, it’s like something out of an adventure novel. I dig it. Mind if I call you just Trix though?” It wasn’t that he had anything against Trixie he just really liked names being short. He grabbed her hand and shook it. “The name’s Nathaniel Beck Shepherd, but I prefer Nate or Beck, your pick personally I call myself Beck when I talk in third person.” He probably shared a little too much that time, but hey it’s not like they were going to be hanging out and be best friends after this. And he probably should have let go of her hand ages ago.<br/><br/>Beck coughed to ease the awkwardness he felt. “I’m guessing that you work here since you’re wearing that suit, unless of course you just like to wear suits, and judging from the obvious hate on your face you don’t like to wear it.” He said. “And by the way thanks for mentioning the heat, now I’m feeling the heat.” It was one of those weird things that happened every now and then, very annoying.