{"id":1063,"date":"2012-09-04T06:00:02","date_gmt":"2012-09-04T13:00:02","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/ravenoustales.com\/?p=1063"},"modified":"2012-09-04T10:20:41","modified_gmt":"2012-09-04T17:20:41","slug":"season-7-episode-7","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/ravenoustales.com\/?p=1063","title":{"rendered":"Season 7, Episode 7"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"\"<\/a>
\n\u201cAna?\u201d<\/p>\n

Ana groaned and ducked her head, trying to hide behind her latte as Mena, Chad\u2019s assistant, stalked past the small cafe on the ground floor of the high-rise where Ana now worked. All Ana wanted was five minutes\u2019 peace before the onslaught of the day began, but Mena obviously had other ideas. Ana wondered again exactly why she had sought out a job like the one she had in Melbourne. She knew she used<\/em> to like it, but she just couldn\u2019t seem to find the drive, the passion anymore. Some mornings she wondered if she came into the office for any reason other than the off-chance of getting a moment alone with Chad – to feel the butterflies ignite in her stomach, her pulse quicken, her\u2026<\/p>\n

\u201cAna?\u201d<\/p>\n

How does she even know I\u2019m here?<\/em><\/p>\n

Ana wondered – not for the first time – if Mena had somehow slipped a locator device into her clothing. Ana hadn\u2019t been working at Bleau long, but she knew that Mena on the warpath meant one thing: Ana had threatened Mena\u2019s life-long fantasy of Chad proclaiming his undying love to her and asking her to quit the job as his glorified minder to become his sex-slave\/wife.<\/p>\n

Ana smiled smugly to herself. Mena feeling threatened meant Chad must have given some indication he felt something for Ana. In fact, maybe he wanted to see her now and\u2026 \u2018talk\u2019 about non-work related things?<\/p>\n

\u201cHi Mena.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat are you doing down here?\u201d Mena snapped. \u201cYour eight-thirty is waiting in the foyer.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMy eight-thirty?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes.\u201d She thrust a business card towards Ana. \u201cJolene Vale from Roots.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cRoots?\u201d<\/p>\n

Mena sighed, looking disapprovingly at Ana. \u201cChad had me add the meeting to your diary late last night. Don\u2019t you check your diary?\u201d<\/p>\n

Yes<\/em>, Ana thought, but not when I\u2019m sleeping<\/em>! \u201cI\u2019m coming,\u201d she sighed, disappointed that it wasn\u2019t a one-on-one with Chad.<\/p>\n

***<\/p>\n

The woman waiting in the foyer didn\u2019t look anything like Ana expected her to. To Ana, \u2018Jolene Vale from Roots\u2019 conjured up images of a simpering, middle-aged, religious zealot squeezed into a pastel twinset a couple of sizes too small. This woman, however, was about the same age as Ana and definitely not overweight. Her fitted black jeans and casual top suggested that the closest she\u2019d come to a twinset was if she\u2019d ever dressed up as Jackie Kennedy for a lookalike competition.<\/p>\n

\u201cJolene? I\u2019m Ana.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cCall me Joey,\u201d the woman said smiling. She had a firm handshake and a confident manner. \u201cOnly my parents call me Jolene. Massive Dolly Parton fans,\u201d she added in a stage whisper. She had an interesting accent: the telltale Californian lilt highlighted by a charming Texan drawl. An import – like so many other people in the city – but obviously one who\u2019d been here a while.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m afraid this meeting was added to my diary rather late,\u201d Ana said apologetically. \u201cSo you\u2019ll need to bring me up to speed about your company.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSure,\u201d Joey said, folding her long legs over each other at the ankle and sitting back in a chair. \u201cWe\u2019re a nonprofit organisation specialising in food education and advocacy. In a nutshell, we help people – particularly low-income or minorities – eat properly. We let let them know that there are foods out there other than twinkies and pizza, and help them gain affordable access. We also do a lot of work with schools. Educate the kids and try to get them to instigate the change. We hope that one day they\u2019ll start demanding healthier options and therefore the schools will be forced to provide it and the government will have to subsidise real food, rather than the crap they currently do.\u201d She laughed at Ana\u2019s sceptical expression. \u201cI know, I know. It\u2019s an uphill battle, but you\u2019ve got to start somewhere, right?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat you do,\u201d Ana agreed. \u201cSo what are you hoping to get from us here at Bleau?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWe got some funding from a private investor who wants us to use it for PR and marketing purposes. I guess I\u2019m hoping to work with you guys and come up with some ideas for things we can do. I mean, we know about posters and ads and that sort of thing, but we want something new. Fresh.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, lets start throwing around some ideas,\u201d Ana said, \u201cand see what we can come up with.\u201d<\/p>\n

***<\/p>\n

When they emerged from the meeting room 2 hours later, both the women were talking a mile a minute. Ana\u2019s cheeks were flushed with excitement and her eyes were shining. She couldn\u2019t ever remember being so enthused about a work project before.<\/p>\n

\u201cLeave it with me,\u201d Ana said, warmly shaking Joey\u2019s hand as she opened the heavy glass door for her. \u201cI\u2019ll get back to you in a couple of days with some roll-out suggestions and we can take it from there.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cPerfect,\u201d Joey said. \u201cThank you. I have a feeling I\u2019m going to really enjoy working with you Ana.\u201d<\/p>\n

Ana blushed happily and waved as Joey strode down the hall, remembering now why she had come back into the industry.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cAna!\u201d<\/p>\n

Ana groaned again. What now? \u201cYes Mena?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cChad wants you in his office. Now.\u201d<\/p>\n

***<\/p>\n

The excitement she had turned to butterflies as soon as she saw Chad\u2019s smiling face. His slightly disheveled hair reminded her of how Marc\u2019s used to look after their frequent, private lunchtime \u2018meetings\u2019.<\/p>\n

Some psychologist would have a field day with me<\/em>, Ana thought wryly.<\/p>\n

\u201cAna.\u201d<\/p>\n

Even the way he said her name sent a little ripple down her spine. And he seemed to know it as well, his hand lingering on hers a moment too long, his mouth curling in a small smile as she blushed slightly.<\/p>\n

\u201cHi Chad.\u201d To tried to keep her voice light, breezy.<\/p>\n

\u201cAna I\u2026\u201d his eyes locked on hers. She saw his adam\u2019s apple bob up and down and he swallowed. Very slowly, he reached his hand towards her. He hesitated, as though waiting for her to jerk back. She didn\u2019t. Her heart was beating fast. It\u2019s really happenin<\/em>g. She hoped her breath didn\u2019t smell and her hair was OK.<\/p>\n

He pulled her towards him, covering her lips with his, running his hands through her hair, down her spine and resting them on her bottom for a moment before bringing them to her face. He kissed her hungrily, passionately.<\/p>\n

Ana felt desire rush through her body and she pressed herself to him, pressing her hands under his jacket, feeling his muscular back. God, he\u2019s even more sexy than Marc<\/em>, she thought as she allowed herself to be swept up by his embrace.<\/p>\n

But then something happened. She recalled the real Marc: Marc the bastard; Marc the liar; Marc the manipulative asshole who had almost ruined her life.<\/p>\n

\u201cNo! Stop!\u201d She pushed him away, her breathing ragged and shallow.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat?\u201d Chad said, disbelief spread over his features. \u201cI know you want me, Ana. You don\u2019t need to play games.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo,\u201d Ana said, the familiar revulsion rising up in her. She wiped her mouth. \u201cNo. I thought I wanted you. But I don\u2019t.\u201d<\/p>\n

He laughed cruelly. \u201cYes you do. It\u2019s written all over you. The way you look at me, the way you quiver when I touch you\u2026\u201d to demonstrate, he ran his fingers lightly over her shoulder, smirking as Ana shuddered under his touch. He shoved his hand under her blouse, roughly grabbing her breast, pressing himself towards her again. He worked his other hand underneath her skirt, tugging at her underpants.<\/p>\n

\u201cStop!\u201d Ana said, struggling to get away.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019re desperate for it,\u201d he added in a husky whisper, not releasing his grip. \u201cI know your type.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMy type?\u201d Ana glared at him, her eyes burning. With all her strength, she brought her knee up sharply into his groin.<\/p>\n

Chad yelled out in pain, doubling over and clutching himself, his eyes narrowed and his mouth hardened into a firm line. \u201cYou\u2019re a little bitch,\u201d he snarled. \u201cA classic prick tease.\u201d<\/p>\n

Ana took a deep breath. \u201cI quit Chad. I want my full months salary and if you tell anyone about this I will sue you for sexual harassment.\u201d<\/p>\n

Chad opened his mouth to complain, but thought better of it. \u201cFine,\u201d he said tightly. \u201cGet out.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWith pleasure,\u201d said Ana as she flounced to the door, for the first time in ages feeling like the powerful, take-no-prisoners woman she knew she was.<\/p>\n

***<\/p>\n

As she wandered home, a cardboard box of her belongings in her hands, she pondered who would take over Joey\u2019s campaign for her. When it seemed that one of the junior assistants was the likely choice, Ana couldn\u2019t help feeling a little bit sad.<\/p>\n

***<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

\u201cAna?\u201d Ana groaned and ducked her head, trying to hide behind her latte as Mena, Chad\u2019s assistant, stalked past the small cafe on the ground floor of the high-rise where Ana now worked. All Ana wanted was five minutes\u2019 peace before the onslaught of the day began, but Mena obviously had other ideas. Ana wondered […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_s2mail":"yes"},"categories":[224],"tags":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/ravenoustales.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1063"}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/ravenoustales.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/ravenoustales.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/ravenoustales.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/ravenoustales.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=1063"}],"version-history":[{"count":3,"href":"http:\/\/ravenoustales.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1063\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1066,"href":"http:\/\/ravenoustales.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1063\/revisions\/1066"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/ravenoustales.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=1063"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/ravenoustales.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=1063"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/ravenoustales.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=1063"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}