ONE | THE NEW TASK

Emma watched Andy as she quietly sniffled in Victoria's office. This weekly meeting wasn't new. Emma knew what to expect. It was always the same old thing. "What are you planning on writing about this week?" Victoria asked everyone, and one by one they announced their newest project. Usually, Emma came up with the idea off the top of her head.

But, because her mind was wrapped up on Andy's situation, of course, her topic for her new how-to piece would be related to her. You wouldn't understand. Andy had told Emma. It was true. Emma didn't understand how Andy managed to lose three guys, all within ten days. It was actually quite impressive. So, when Victoria turned her attention to Emma, she blurted out "How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days."

Victoria's mouth fell agape. "Excuse me?" The whole room of female writers fell silent.

"You know? Some girls feel trapped with their boyfriend and don't have the balls to break up with them. So, I'm going to make a piece about how to make a guy break up with you within ten days." Emma explained, coming up with all this off the top of her head.

"So, you plan on actually practicing this yourself before writing the piece?" Victoria inquired.

Emma nodded slowly, she hadn't planned on it, but that meant she'd only have to write for next week's release--essentially, getting a week off if she got ten days to lose a guy. "Fine. But," Victoria raised a slender finger in the air, "you have to do it with someone of my picking."

Emma shrugged. Who would Victoria pick? The coffee guy? The mailman? "You're hot, it has to be someone challenging..." Victoria hummed.

Shit, not the mailman, then. Emma thought to herself. "Maybe someone rich, famous and handsome...with someone important. A billionaire. A playboy. Even a philanthropist. Aha! Tony Stark!" The entire office of girls gasped in shock.

Emma gulped. "The Tony Stark?! How in the hell am I going to make him fall in love with me--the how-to girl--and break up with me all within ten days?!!"

"He's throwing a party tonight, you can be my plus one. From there, you'll have to figure it out, you have ten days." Victoria smiled. She was excited to see how this all went down.

"That's way too hard...what's in it for me if I succeed?" Emma folded her arms across her chest.

"I have contacts in New York. I can put in a good word and have you write about your politics or whatever with them. Ah, I can just imagine what a hit this piece will be. And if you leave me after that, what a way to end Emma Roberson's how-to girl run, huh? With a bang!" Victoria clasped her hands together. Emma could practically see money signs flashing in Victoria's eyes.

"Deal."

* * *

Emma wore a short, cocktail dress at Tony's party. It wasn't exactly an appropriate outfit to wear when going out with your boss, but, she needed to gain his attention. Victoria immediately abandoned Emma once they stepped into the glass doors of his mansion in Malibu. What am I doing here? Emma rubbed her temples, annoyed by the blasting music. She'd much rather be in her bedroom, researching how to stop redlining in America.

Her eyes scanned the room full of dancing bodies. There was no way she was going to find this man. There had to be at least five hundred people in attendance, and even if she did get close to him, he'd be distracted by all his other guests.

Emma trudged over to the bar and took a couple shots of liquid courage, relaxing her tension. She breathed deeply and told herself to focus. If she didn't do this, she wouldn't get her dream job.

Suddenly, she heard an explosion go off amongst the loud party sounds. Emma snapped her head to take a peak at what had just occurred. And there he was... everything seemed to move in slow motion at that very moment when Emma laid her eyes on her prey—Tony Stark. Cheers could be heard. He had just put on a show with his very own iron man glove for his beloved guests. He was clearly intoxicated as Emma could see him stumble a bit and, as she struggled to read his lips, she could tell his speech was slurred. "Damn." She cursed to herself, reaching over for a glass of champagne being placed on a tray to be distributed. She downed the drink in one gulp, feeling hopeless. There was no way she was going to be able to get Stark's attention with all these extremely attractive women and all that alcohol in his system.

"Why did Victoria even think I could do this?" She propped her elbows on the bar and sunk her chin into her palms.

For the next few hours, the bartenders became her friends as they served her shot after shot and drink after drink. She got totally hammered, since that seemed like the only thing to do at that stupid party. As she reached out her frail hand for a glass of whisky this time, a rough hand was placed on her arm. Her eyes lagged behind the usual reaction time she'd have if she wasn't sweating tequila through her pores. When she finally looked up, her hair in her face, she spotted a very familiar face through the curtain of her hair. She blew air from her mouth to move her hair away from her eyes, but to no avail. "Heeeeeyy...I know you..." Emma blinked, speaking slowly.

She was very wasted. "What are you doing over here by yourself, babe?" Tony Stark spoke to her, struggling not to slur his words as bad as her. But, he was at about the same state as her. His sunglasses hid the severity of his intoxication quite well.

"I'm—I'm gonna go to sleep." She announced as she laid her head down on the bar top and closed her eyes.

* * *

Emma couldn't tell you what happened the rest of that night. All she knew was that when she woke up, she was not in her own bed. Nor was Victoria anywhere in sight. Emma sat up, running her hands over the silk sheets she laid on. She looked around the luxurious room, shocked. Emma looked to her right and found the Tony Stark snoozing beside her. She tried to refrain from screaming. Quickly, she pulled up the covers to make sure she was still dressed.

She sighed out in relief was she discovered that she was. "Thank God." She whispered, creeping out of the bed.

Quietly, she walked into his massive bathroom to take a glimpse at herself. She was revolted at what she saw. Old layers of makeup were broken up in patches on her skin from not washing it off the night before. Her mascara had run off her lashes and into a circle around her blue eyes, making her look like the crackhead she passed on the way to work everyday.

A raging headache pounded through her skull. She dug through his cabinets in hopes to find aspirin or any kind of ibuprofen. To her luck, she quickly found some and down a handful to stop the pain that rang between her ears. Hastily, she washed her face and pulled down her dress to make sure it wouldn't slide up as she left the billionaire's home.

As she was just about to leave the bathroom, the ibuprofen kicked in and stopped her headache. Now, allowing her to feel the hunger pains striking her stomach. She clutched her gut. "I'm sure he won't miss a couple of eggs." She whispered to herself as she scurried out of the bathroom in search of the kitchen.

About fifteen minutes of wandering around the trashed mansion led her nowhere. She couldn't seem to find the kitchen and her stomach was punishing her for it as it began to roar disturbing noises. As she walked through one of the various halls, she spotted an enormous display of various Iron Man suits lined up one by one next to each other. They seemed to be replicas, for the originals would have been stored somewhere safer than a random hallway as decor.

She felt entranced by them and neared the very first suit. It seemed bulk and heavy. It was gargantuan compared to the others, which had a slender build to them.

From afar, Tony watched as she admired the very first suit he created. The very suit he used to escape imprisonment and slavery. It was what made him Iron Man. "It's hideous, right?" He chuckled.

Emma jumped away from the replica, snapping her head to look at the figure leaning his weight against the glossy walls. "No, it's...um," she brushed her hair behind her ear, "it's impressive."

Tony stood, staring at her. Not caring that it was awkward for her. He was pondering whether he had slept with her the night before. But, by the looks of it, he hadn't. She was still fully clothed in her original clothes and she didn't seem elated enough to be in his presence once more. "I'm a fan of your work." She tried to break the silence as his eyes scanned her long legs up to her glistening blonde hair.

He hummed. "You hungry?"

"I really should be heading home now." She pointed her thumb behind her, taking a step back.

"It's the least I can do, since I can't tell whether we... fondued last night." He squinted his eyes at her and pressed his lips into a thin line as he tried to read her.

"Fondued? I'm sorry—" She blinked, unsure as to what that phrase meant.

"Nevermind that. You like eggs? Bacon? I'll whip something up for you. Come on." He brushed past her, not even looking back to make sure she was following as he walked away to the kitchen.

Hesitantly, she trailed after him. 10 days, Roberson. Just 10 days. And then you can have your dream job. She thought to herself, hoping to get this over with as soon as possible in order to receive what she desired most.