Maya Chen adjusted her wire-rimmed glasses for the third time in five minutes, staring at the spreadsheet that refuse to balance. The florescent light of Hartman &associates hummed overhead, casting everyday in that particular shade of corporate beige that made her want to scream.
"Another thrilling Friday night at the office," she muttered, clicking her pen against her teeth, a habit her mother constantly nagged her about.
The elevator dinged, and Maya glanced up to see Jack Morrison stride through the glass doors. Even at 9pm, he looked like he'dstepped out of a magazine - designer Jeans, perfectly tousled dark hair and infuriating smile that made her forget basic arithmetic .
"Working late again, Chen?", Jake's voice carried that hint of amusement that always made her bristle. "Some of us take our jobs seriously," Maya replied not looking up from her mentor. "Unlike certain creative consultants who waltz in whenever they please." Jake laughed, the sound echoing through the empty office. "Ouch, and here I thought we were making progress on our professional relationship". Maya finally looked at him, noting the paint smudge on his left temple. Always paint. She'd be wondering what kind of "consulting" he actually did for the firm. "Progress must involve you submitting your expense report on time" she said, pulling up his file. "You're three weeks behind. Again"