115Anything You Can Do
I Can Do Better
Rachel is a writer with no sense of organization. She can't cook. She doesn't clean and she talks to herself constantly. When her best friend hires assistants for her they always seem to quit within the first week. Sophie, her best friend, is at her wit's end, has only one more chance with the Agency before they will stop sending assistants. So they send her a man who is well past arrogance, stubborn, and probably just as temperamental. Sophie's perfect idea to deal with Rachel. But Rachel and the new assistant hit heads. Which in turn creates a challenge. Who will leave? Rachel must try to get him to quit. And he must get her to fire him. Otherwise, each of their own personal pride is broken. In turn, it's a battle of the sexes.
"I hate him. I'm going to skewer him, castrate him, gut him," the short redhead continued on her tirade as she came storming into her library mixed office, her dark hair falling into her face in fury. Rachel Stevens' own private sanctuary and yet the one man, the only man who could get under her skin, reached her even in the depths of her one refuge, her one asylum. Infuriated, her eyes glowed a taunting amber in the shallow depths of the cool darkness easing from the setting sun. One window, opposite of the door on the east side, was open as it let a small breeze bustle inside the fading office. Three of the four walls were lined in bookshelves from floor to ceiling. Books lined alphabetically filled the spaces between.
Shutting the door behind her, in a very loud manner, she let her bare feet carry her across the rug that rested on the hardwood floors, moving past the couch and set of chairs that were situated in front of her large wooden desk. It's mahogany color shimmered in light, but at that moment it was a dark form that welcomed her to its safety. Sitting in the wide office chair, she brought her legs up in front of her in a criss-crossed manner. Raking a hand through her long locks, she reached over to turn on the small lamp situated on the desk. The light glowed on and her eyes came to view the several papers scattered around her desk and the laptop situated in the center.
"Stupid, idiotic jerkface," she mumbled under her breath as she turned on her laptop. Her fingers typed away as she came to her own imagination. An attempt being a writer had been occurring for the past year, since her leave of her father's company, and so far one book had sold, hitting the shelves and becoming a best seller. Currently working on her next novel, coming up with the writing had only come out in spurts. And they usually came after talking to her best friends, or rather arguing with one of them. Throwing her energy into writing, she tried to keep her mind away from the insufferable pain one of them was being.
Rachel looked up from her computer and yawned. Three hours had passed and she felt ready to pass out. Stretching in her chair, she was getting up when she noticed the missed messages on her phone. They were all from her best friend. After reading all the messages, she just typed into her phone, 'Sorry babe. I was on a writing spree. But I'll talk to you tomorrow, k? Night! Lovers ya!' Yawning once more, she headed up the tiny stairs that came to the vast bedroom. Living in a small house with rooms that were built for space, she had made the whole upstairs into a bedroom. It originally had been an attic but once she fixed it up, it fit perfectly for herself. She had painted the walls a pale sage green with the ceiling a off white. Three days it took, and with a beautiful vast window, she had fallen in bliss with her room.
Stripping down from her usual look of jeans and a sweatshirt, she changed into a pair of sweats and a tank top. A dresser of cherry oak stood in one corner near the north wall. The bed, silver frame, lay on the west side with the moon casting a soft glow from the window. Her eyes began drooping as she lowered herself into the cool sheets hidden under the wide comforter, a pale green with black and silver Celtic designs. Her ancestry. As her eyes fell completely shut, her mind did too and soon she was out.
Rachel woke to her alarm and she let out a groan. Rolling over, she tried to reach for the alarm only to see it was much too far for her reach. Just as she was falling back to sleep, she heard an angry yell from downstairs. Throwing back her covers and pulling on a sweatshirt, she raced down the stairs. Just as she hit the bottom step, her latest assistant stood near the door, her face bent in anger.
"I QUIT!" She screamed.
"Why ever so?" Rachel yawned, wishing she could get back to sleep, or at least back to her computer.
"YOU! That's bloody why! You're just, ugh!" She pointed to the mess that was all over the living room . The contents Rachel had been looking for lay in a neat pile on the floor while the rest, the things she threw out while she was looking, lay in a catastrophe everywhere else. A stack of mail lay in a pile on the coffee table, flowing down to the ground with its mess. The assistant then dragged Rachel to the office, "You can't let me work in peace, you make messes, you are just crazy!" The office was not in much better condition, paperwork was scattered in a corner of the room, a spot on the floor clear from where she had been sitting while looking about the contents.
Rachel bit her lip to hide the laughter bubbling up inside her. Watching her latest assistant drag a shaking hand through her hair, she knew that no one had the patience to deal with her. Rachel watched with mild amusement as her assistant, Julie?, she couldn't remember, paced the floor spouting and ranting at her. Julie's eyes were wild with lunacy in its depths. Her legs racing around and her hands shaking.
Chaos and messy was Rachel's surroundings usually. Even though the 'mess' was usually just paper, she could live in it. She was use to the environment of paper. When the mess was about, she usually knew were everything was. It made life simpler for her, much more simpler. But once it got cleaned, whether it be by her best friends or assistants, she was in trouble. It usually meant, she would have to go dig for what she was looking for.
She had a habit of driving her assistants up a wall, so to speak, and sometimes literally. She not only talked to herself while working, or thinking for that matter, she had a habit of making her assistants crazy. Since she could not cook, her assistants did for her and sometimes Rachel would forget and order them to take it away. Every night after they left, Rachel would need something and she would have to go to her cabinets, digging in there until she found what she was looking for. Leaving the rest in shambles to be fixed in the morning.
"FIND SOMEONE ELSE!" And the door slammed with a bang as Rachel's latest ex-assistant left. Rachel groaned, Now I have to go tell Sophie. Sophie being her best friend, and the person who hired her assistants, was going to be frustrated. Again. Racing up the stairs, she quickly changed into a pair of jeans and her favored Batman Tee-shirt with the logo. Time to face the music. She groaned as she headed back down the stairs, heading toward the front door.
Rachel loved her best friend, but she feared the wrath that would ensue for making another assistant quit. It was Sophie who usually went about getting Rachel her assistants, making life harder for her when they quit. And many quit, a several many. Rachel was free to go about her writing career without worrying about much else. Leaving Sophie to force an assistant on her, since she had a coffee shop slash bookstore to take care of.
Sophie Moon owned a small coffee shop that also doubled as a small bookstore. Opening the door to the coffee shop, Rachel walked over to the counter where Sophie was working away cleaning the counters. Stopping to sit in a barstool, she waited until Sophie noticed her. She traced intricate designs on the counter top as she thought of the face Sophie was going to make. And the whining that would occur between the two.
It didn't take long before Sophie noticed Rachel. She also noticed the manner that Rachel was acting. Pondering for a moment, she glanced at her watch and let out a groan.
"Rachel please don't tell me Julie," The ex assistant, "Quit too?" Rachel glanced up and let a cheeky smile at her.
"Rachel Stevens! That's your eleventh assistant!"
"It is not my fault they can't handle me." Rachel whined, crossing her arms in a pouting manner.
"If you wouldn't torture them, maybe they would actually stay longer than a week!" Sophie groaned, again. Dragging a hand over her face, she glared at her redheaded friend.
"But it's so fun to torture them!"
"Rachel," Sophie warned.
"Well, just call the Agency for another."
"They are going to stop giving me assistants for you at the rate you are going," She grumbled.
"... Guess then I'm going have to live in disaster and chaos again."
"You mean me cleaning it up?" Rachel gave a grin in response. "No way, I'm going to find an assistant that lasts." And off Sophie went to the back, waving Rachel away. Rachel pouted but quickly stopped as she thought of what Sophie would say,
'Careful, someone might get the idea to bite that.' A joke that had passed between the two of them, and lasted for ages. Getting up, she pulled her hood over her head as she went out into the cold fall weather again. A soft sprinkle had began while Rachel had been inside, and now she had to walk home in it. Taking a deep breath, she shoved her hands in her pockets and began her way toward the modest size apartment she dwelled in.
I know, I know. I'm not suppose to have another new story! I have five on the back burner as it is, but I couldn't not write this. After ANOTHER converstation with my pancake, she gave me inspiration SINCE SOMEONE! [cough tybaltcough] can't seem to help me.
So tell me what you think, and we'll se where this goes.