Novel

coffee

“You may want to grab your notebook, Kendall,” said Isadora, flipping her shiny jet black mane over her shoulder and glaring at her soon-to-be ex-assistant across her desk.  “I’m going to give you some advice that will benefit you greatly in your next position.”

“I’m good,” Kendall responded, crossing her legs and demurely pulling her pencil skirt over her knees.  “Go ahead.”

Isadora frowned but continued.  “If your boss asks you for something, don’t just do the bare minimum, go above and beyond.  For example, when I send you out for coffee and ask for it piping hot, anticipate that I may not like the first batch you bring me and accidentally knock it to the floor.  Have another batch waiting instead of having to go back with that little crestfallen, lost puppy look on your face, it’s so unbecoming…”

Kendall zoned out as Isadora continued with her career advice, knowing she would never need it.  When Isadora was in the office, her life was a nightmare.  An endless whirl of coffee runs, impossible errands, screamed insults, hurled cell phones and obscenities.  But Isadora traveled.  A lot.  Kendall was only the second assistant.  The first assistant traveled with her.  Which gave Kendall lots of free time to write.  And boy did she write.  She’d finished a novel.  Her Devil Wears Prada. At first no one was interested in another story about a twentysomething girl trying to build a career in New York City.  But, when they learned that she was the assistant of Isadora Costa, Editor in Chief of Skinny magazine, the most respected fashion rag in the world, and that her fictional tale was loosely based on her experiences, a bidding war had commenced.  The advance alone was enough for her to pay off all of her college debt and cover her living expenses for the next few years.  She’d never have to get anyone’s coffee again.  The book hadn’t even hit shelves yet, and everyone was buzzing about the mysterious Samantha Sims, the cruel, borderline sociopathic, magazine editor in her book, speculating if she was based on Isadora, which Isadora of course had dismissed as nonsense.  The book had been published under an assumed name, but Kendall would be going public with her true identity soon enough.

“So, do you think you can remember all of that?”  Isadora finished her lengthy speech and looked at Kendall doubtfully.

“Oh, I’m sure I can.”

In honor of NaNoWriMo, I’m going to post a new flash fiction story every Monday in November – each incorporating either the word National, Novel, Writing, or Month.  Original right?  🙂  Thanks for reading.

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