"I can't believe this! You're telling me you don't have your rent money again! Fuck! Completely unacceptable! You need to do something about this. Now!" Holly fumed as her roommate Brittney teetered in front of her.
"Look, I'll get the money! I just need a little more time. I'm looking for work, I think I have a line on something tomorrow. Please, just give me a break," Brittney whined. In truth, she had no idea how to come up with the money. With her recent degree from the Walter Cronkite School of Journalism she'd been beating the bushes all over the valley. She got a couple small freelance jobs that got her through her first couple months since graduation, but now things seemed to have dried up.
Holly scowled back at her. She saw Brittney as a pampered, spoiled brat. Brittney's trust fund had finally run out, and now she was trying to leach off of Holly. Holly made up her mind she wasn't going to put up with it.
"I'll give you three days, and no more. You better have the money or I'm throwing your ass out!"
"Ok, ok! I'll get it!" Brittney cried.
Brittney hurried back to her room to avoid any more of Holly's wrath. Standing in front of her mirror, she chastised herself for ending up in this predicament. She had always been able to get by somehow. She did well in school, was mostly studious with only few occasions where she got out of control at parties. She'd had several boyfriends, though none of them long term. Most boys seemed to just be looking for a good fuck. Not that she was against that, but none of them were all that good at that, either.
Looking at her reflection, she saw a 22 year old woman with long straight blonde hair, blue eyes, 5 foot 5 inches tall, and a petite body. Not a stunning beauty, but still turned heads, especially when she was showing off her long slender legs. She stayed fit, either running or doing yoga, and had a nice tan thanks to the Arizona sunshine.
But now she was broke and desperate. Her parents had died when she was young, so she was raised by her grandparents. She'd gotten a trust fund that paid her way through school. Sure, maybe she spent it on too many cute dresses and shoes, but these things were practically necessities for a young girl. But now with the money gone and her grandparents retired and moved to Florida she was on her own. She needed a job, and fast. She decided to go back to the Scottsdale Courier tomorrow morning. She had done a couple stories for the editor there. He made her uncomfortable, but it was her best chance.
The next morning she headed off for the Scottsdale Courier offices, having made an appointment to see Ted Packard. Ted's office was on the fourth floor, with windows overlooking downtown Scottsdale. Brittney knocked on the open door, and then stuck her head in.
"Well hello Miss Banyard. What do I owe the pleasure of seeing you in my office today? Please, come on in, have a seat."
Ted sat behind a large mahogany desk. He was 54 years old, short, balding, and about 100 pounds overweight. Overall he was not an attractive man. Brittney forced a smile and made her way to the hard wooden chair in front of his desk.
"Well, umm, Mr. Packard, I really was hoping you had some work for me," Brittney meekly responded.
"Work? Well, hmm, I don't know about that. Your last stories were just so-so. What can you do to convince me that you're up to the task, young lady?" Ted's eyes traveled down Brittney's body, lingering on the exposed skin past her neck. He liked his women young and petite, none of these oversized sagging tits for him.
Brittney squirmed in her chair under the leering eyes of Mr. Packard, not sure how to respond. She gathered her courage and replied, "Well, I, umm, I know I can do better. I'll really work hard and do my best. I just need another chance."
Ted arose from his chair and walked around his desk. "You'll work hard, will you?" Ted chuckled under his breath at what he saw as a sexual reference to his hard manhood. He strode behind Brittney and put his hands on her shoulders and began to massage them. His eyes once again moved down her chest and inside her blouse, catching a glimpse of the front clasp of Brittney's pink bra. "Is that all you have to say? That isn't very convincing, I must say. It will take more than just hard work to make it in this business."
"Please Mr. Packard," Brittney nervously responded, now very uncomfortable with the implications of Mr. Packard's words. "I really need the money..." she trailed off.
"I'm sure you do," he said as his fingers slowly move down her neck and inched their way inside her blouse. "However, I can't just go hiring every pretty girl that comes by..."
Suddenly Mr. Packard's secretary strode into the room. Brittney jumped, but Ted calmly slid his hands back out of Brittney's blouse before addressing his secretary. His secretary quickly glanced at Brittney and a look of disgust flashed across her face but was quickly gone. Brittney blushed, realizing what she must think of her. Brittney wanted to shout out that it was nothing like that, but could only look away in embarrassment.
"Mr. Packard, there's an issue downstairs with the latest copy. They need your input right away," she curtly stated.
Ted sighed, realizing the moment with Brittney was past. "Very well, tell them I'll be right there."
Ted took one more look down Brittney's blouse, and then walked back around his desk and dug a folder out from under a large stack of papers. "Here," he said as he thrust it towards Brittney. "I've put a couple different reporters on this one, but they've all been shut out. You give it a try, maybe they'll be less threatened by an innocent young girl. All the information and contacts are in the folder, report back to me in a week."
"A week? But... isn't there something a little shorter?" Brittney needed money now, not in a week. This job wasn't what she needed right now.
"You don't want it? It's all I have for you, darling, take it or leave it," Ted responded gruffly.
Brittney jumped up from the chair and grabbed the folder. "No, no. It's great. Thank you so much, Mr. Packard. I'll do a great job, you'll see!"
"Come back in a week, Miss Banyard. And don't screw it up or you won't work here again," he threatened.
As Ted headed out of his office he started making plans for Brittney's return visit.
Brittney rushed home and began to pore over the contents of the folder. It contained information about a local company called BioZene, located in local the research park. She vaguely recalled seeing their sign while driving past. There was very little information on exactly what they were researching, only some vague mention of alternative medical treatments. There was a contact name and number, a Dr. Jennifer Drake. Some hand written notes were in the folder, she assumed by the prior reporters, that had some very unflattering comments about the woman and an ominous warning to stay away. The basic idea of the story was to uncover what this company was up to; all the better if it involved any sort of unsavory actions like animal testing.
After reading all the material Brittney sat back. Holy shit, how am I going to do this? Like they are just going to open up and tell me what they are doing? "Yes Miss Banyard, right this way and we'll show you our super secret formula for curing cancer. And over here you see all the monkey cages where we've perfected our new serum." Uh huh.
Still, she couldn't come up with a better plan than to just call this Dr. Drake and ask for an appointment. What else could she do, break in at night and search their facility? Steeling herself, she picked up her phone and dialed the number.
"Dr. Drake," was the curt response after the third ring.
