Note: Please forgive me if the main male character seems a bit choppy in his 'character'. I haven't had the chance to fully plan him out and it took me five pages (four of which I backspaced) to finally give him a first name, which I'm not sure I'm going to keep. Please, tell me if he seems too arrogant and egotistical which I don't want. I'm female so all my information (I guess you could say) of males comes from the immature idiots that I go to school with.

Disclaimer: I do not own the name 'Lotus' for the fact that it is a club in New York City as portrayed in this story.

Chapter Two

He walked into the crowed meeting room. If there was anything he hated most, it was these meetings. He was the heir to a huge publishing company, but that didn't mean he had to enjoy them. Only four years until the company was actually his, but that meant that he already had three newspapers under his control. Two were small and the other was the hardest as it was the largest of the three. That was where this meeting was today. A meeting having to do with summer internships and it was only November. He slid into a chair at the far end of the table; he refused to sit at the head of the table.

"Morning Mr. Morgan," a few reporters said as they slid into seats near him.

He nodded in response. Only one cup of coffee in his system. Not enough for a meeting like this but he hadn't had time to grab another. The head of HR stepped up to the front of the room as did the head of Accounting. They were the two in charge, for the most part, of the internship. All applicants went through them only to be confirmed by himself once the pile was cut down to a small agreeable number. But it never did seem small enough.

"As everyone knows subscriptions to the newspaper have gone up by twenty percent which means we now have the means to offer more paid internships. That doesn't mean that all interns will take the paid internship positions, but it will offer them a better chance to get a position," Kevin Carter, the head of accounting, began.

The head of HR, Nancy O'Reilly continued, "We've decided that the number of paid internships should be able to increase by ten percent. Instead of fourteen paid positions we'll be offering sixteen. It's not a big improvement, but we'll also be able to raise their salaries to come close to those of the low-level journalists."

"What about those who are only getting positions for college credit?" He asked.

"The number will probably decrease, as work is filled up by those who want a paid internship," Kevin answered.

"But, what if the majority of applicants only want a internship for college credit? Will you raise the number of positions or still leave it as is?" Jessica, a reporter sitting beside him, asked.

"That depends on the number of applicants who want the internship for college credit," Nancy replied and looked at her notes. "This past summer the majority of applicants wanted a paid internship, not one for college credit."

He rolled his eyes, "You can't just base things on the past summer. Things could change in the next few months before the internship process begins."

"This is how we've been doing things, Mr. Morgan. To change now would be-"

He cut of Kevin, "To change now would be a good thing. Leave the internship positions at a set number. Fourteen for both paid and college credit. If more want the college credit then take the positions left over by the paid positions and use those for college credit. It's as simple as that."

"With all due respect Mr. Morgan, we've been working on this far longer then you have. We have the experience, you don't," Kevin bit off.

"I understand that, but I'm the boss, not you." He stood up, "This meeting is over. I want your notes on my desk by the start of lunch. That should give you," he glanced at his watch, "three hours."

Finally, the business day was over. At least he wished it was; he had to stay and finish, approximately, four more hours of work. Not to mention he still had to go over those notes from earlier that day. Meetings and paperwork took up all his time; it was amazing that he still got to write articles for the newspapers. He clicked on the icon, from his desktop, that would lead him to the article on 'Newspapers Vs. Internet News'. This was an article that he had yet to finish and it was due to the printers by Friday and it was Wednesday. On average he still had four days of work—research and writing—left and he had to finish it in two. Once a procrastinator, always a procrastinator.

His hands moved quickly over the keys and within minutes he had a total of three more 'newspaper' paragraphs, as he called them. Those paragraphs that an English teacher would be horrified to see in an essay with only one or two sentences contained within. That was probably why he had done so bad in some of his English courses; he was used to the newspaper paragraphs.


"What?" His typing didn't slow.

"Why are you still here?"

He looked up, "Was I supposed to meet you or something? I thought weekly dinner was Friday night at the pub."

"It is," Mike commented as he slid into one of the seats in front of Ian's desk. "You were supposed to meet me at the mall so I could help you pick out a gift for your mother." At Ian's blank look, he continued, "Her birthday is in four days."

"Shit! I totally forgot."

Mike chuckled, "That was obvious. How about this, give me the money and I'll buy it for you."

"Not a chance. Hold on, let me save this and we can go. There's bound to be something that's still open."

"It's only seven. We still have two hours, just don't forget I still have to drive back to Yale tonight. You know, since I'm still in school unlike you."

Ian smiled, "It's not my fault you were born two years after me."

"It's not like you even knew what sex was at that age."

"You sure?" Ian said wickedly.

"I really don't need to know."

There was laughter, "Whatever you say."

"I can't believe we're related. We're as different as night and day. You have a different girl in your bed every night and I barely get the girl," Mike muttered and Ian began to laugh even harder.

His mother's birthday had come and gone as had Thanksgiving. It was now December and has much as he hated to admit it, he was in the Christmas spirit. Hell, he had even conceded to some of his friends and gone to club on a weeknight. Then again, it's not like he had much to do. His father always tended to go lighter on him when winter hit; it was probably because when he was younger he always got sick during the winter and the added stress of work probably would send him back down that road. So far there was nothing to worry about, he felt wonderful. Though, that could have to do with the sight of many fabulously hot females dancing away before him. He always loved going to a club and 'Lotus' was no exception. This club had been the first he had ever gone to, in the United States anyway.

"Hey man," Chris shouted. "What are you doing sitting here? Get yourself a girl."

Ian smiled at his friend, one of the guys he had graduated Yale with only last year. They had known each other since fifth grade, which was probably the longest he had ever known someone apart from family and family friends. Chris's only fault was that he was impatient, which you could tell just by looking at his face as he waited for Ian to leave the table.

"Fine man as long as you get one for yourself."

Chris just chuckled and both he and Ian walked onto the dance floor. Ian already had someone in mind, he just had to find her. It wouldn't take too long; she had been dancing by the stage when he last saw her. The only thing he could hope was that she was single. Then all would be good. He had barely breached the throng of dancer when he saw her dancing with a few girls. He moved towards them and slid behind her. She seemed to know he was there immediately and they began to dance together. Tonight was going to be wonderful.

He woke to an incredible headache and possibly the worse hangover he had ever had. Well, no. That would be a total lie. This was the worst hangover in the last few months. His eyes opened slowly and he looked around his bedroom or at least Chris's guest room where he stayed when he was in the city. Something shifted beside him and he looked at the girl lying there. She was beautiful and if he were a commitment kind of guy he would consider dating her. But he wasn't like that, not until he found the right girl. Like that would ever happen; it would be a miracle if he found the right one before he was thirty. He shifted and looked at the clock on the bedside table. It was only seven am. Something had to have woken him up. Slowly, he forced himself from the bed and walked woodenly to the adjoining bathroom. Once inside he swallowed two aspirin. When he went back into the bedroom he pulled on a pair of jeans and took one last look at the bed.

"I hope that's coffee," he said as he slid into the chair opposite Chris.

"Tea, I ran out of coffee yesterday and forgot to pick more up. Want some?"

He shook his head, "I abhor tea."

"How was she?" Chris was smiling even though it was evident that he had a killer hangover as well. "Mine wasn't that great."

"Honestly, I can't even remember. The last seven hours are a fuzzy haze."

Chris drank from his cup and then looked up, "I'm surprised that I can remember my night and from what I heard when I came home you were having a good-"

"Okay, usually I would enjoy talking about this, but right now the hangover is just making everything sound worse then it is."

"Later then?"

"Definitely. We both need to get ready for work and I need to wake that beauty up and get her to leave."

A new voice joined in, "One step ahead of you. I had fun last night and well, honestly, as fun as it was, let's not do it again."

Chris and Ian looked up at the beauty as she walked farther into the kitchen. She gave them both a smile and then walked passed them to the door. As the door shut behind her Chris whistled. It was obvious that he was wishing he had picked her up, but it was too late.

"Damn. If only I had noticed her before you."

"You must be slipping. Usually you get the hotter ones and I'm stuck with the brainless idiots who don't have much going for them."

"You, my friend, do tend to pick some of the hot ones as well. But mine are always hotter."

They both shared a laugh that had them cringing afterwards. Laughing and hangovers never ever work with each other. Once they were up and moving with lots of aspirin and coffee in their systems they would be better and then laughing would be something they could do.

"We need showers and coffee. Whoever finishes last buys," Ian said as he stood and headed into the guest room.

"I hope you have enough money in your bank account. I'll be needing a lot of coffee," Chris replied as he walked towards his own room.

"In your dreams."

It seemed that in the end Ian was right. Chris, on the other hand, was short a few dollars. But they both headed off to work awake and with hangovers that were starting to subside slowly.

When he fell onto his couch hours later his neck was starting to ache. That game of basketball at the gym was the worst idea. He was cursing himself for playing a competitive game hours after waking up with a hangover. He had already passed his quota for aspirin which meant he'd have to bare the pain. The only other way to get rid of pain was take a hot shower, but he didn't feel like moving from the couch.

"Later," he told himself as he forced himself into a comfortable position. "Most definitely."

Just as he got comfortable his cell phone rang. Normally, he wouldn't mind having to answer his phone, but with the cell phone on the other side of the room he wasn't moving. Whoever it was would leave a message and he'd call them later.

End Note: Just wanted to say thanks for the reviews I got. Any and all questions will be answered during the course of the story, unless of course it's about something that already happened (that you didn't understand). Reese's family problems and history will all be explained in hopefully the next few chapters. It would give away a lot of the story if I were to explain it all now. Hopefully, you'll get it soon. Please Review! I tend to return the favor.