The Society of the Ethereal Medallion

What a Prat

"Okay," William threw his hands up in exasperation. 

I continued settling myself into my new office. It could use a bit of cleaning up; a thick layer of dust floated around the room. I don't think anyone's touched this room in well over a year. I pushed the window blinds apart to let in some sunlight; I had to grab my cloth to cover my nose from the dust that flew from the act. 

"I'm here."

"Good. Now that you're here, we can discuss your new writing assignment and what we want to see more of."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa." 

I let out a sigh of annoyance, "Yes, Mr. Johnson?"

"You know my name, but I don't know yours. Didn't they teach you manners up in Brit?"

"If you're referring to Britain, then yes. I was born and raised in London. I'm Rosalie Greene," I extended my hand out for him to shake. It was shaking with anger and a need to slam it across his face. Ever since moving to this blasted city, I've found that these people had worn my patience thin. It was too early for something so drastic; these Americans brought out a side of me I had no idea existed.

He looked down at it with a disgusted demeanor, "Greene? Is there a reason why that name sounds so familiar?"

"If there is, I certainly can't think of any." 

He glared at me beneath a pair of thick, well-groomed eyebrows; they hung low over his eyes in question. 

"Now as I was saying-"

"So you're a Brit...man, I've never met one up close and personal before." There was a slight smirk playing on his lips.

"And you're an American," I gestured to the scarlet lipstick kisses still plastered on his neck. 

 He discreetly began to wipe at the lip marks.

 "You can fight me, Mr. Johnson, but if there is one little thing you should know about me, it's that I never lose."

"That's a bad habit to get into."

"As bad a habit as fraternization in the workplace." 

He rolled his eyes. 

I simpered knowingly, "Shall we continue? Because we have a lot to do in such a small time frame. Due to your little rendevous in Greece, you've set us back away."

His jaw hardened, and his expression changed from a playful annoyer to a lion on the prowl. "What I do is none of your business."

"It is my business when your mistakes interfere with the jobs of others around you. I want to make things between us crystal clear for the near future; I am your superior. Do as I say, and I won't report you to Mr. Jackson. I won't have you doing any of this mythical Atlantis nonsense as long as I'm working here." I grabbed a file and began rifling through its pages.

"Just who in the hell do you think you are?!"

"I'm the new managing director of the Metro Journal." My arms crossed in defiance, and my eyes shot daggers into his vicinity. 

His eyes shifted; he was trying hard not to show any emotion. 

"I understand you had your eye on this job?" 

That got him to shut up satisfyingly quickly. 

"Now, as the managing director, I can hire, fire, promote, create, and enforce."

"Yes...I'm well aware." 

"So if you'd still like a job here, I'd suggest you watch your tone, shut your gob, and listen up."