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Autumn had decided earlier that she hated the Backstreet Boys. Their peppy upbeat boy band tunes annoyed her to no end. She was sixteen when they first came out with their self entitled cd, and her family, being the Brady Bunch wannabes that they are, decided to buy it for her for christmas. She listened to the first song, then threw the cd in the trash.

Her best friend, Brooke, however, loved the Backstreet boys. Every day Brooke would try to give her a reason to like them, and everyday, she'd tell them that it was no use. She just wanted her to listen to good music. Psssht.

Today's reason: They write their own songs. Psht, they write when they feel like it, other then that their too lazy. Her favorite band being Lifehouse, she couldn't see how writing a few songs on their album would constitue her being an instant fan.

She told Brooke: When they start writing a whole ablum full of songs like Lifehouse, then thats when I'll maybe listen to song 2 on their cd.

That at least shut her up. At the ripe ole' age of 26, she had everything to live for..

She was a successful business owner, who owed the hottest resteraunt in Orlando. Her Resteraunt, Bellisimo, had been founded by her in 1999. She graduated from Don Jenn High school, which evidently, was the same one Alex Mclean of the Backstreet Boys graduated from. She bit back a laugh. Autumn hadn't noticed him once. Brooke, however, kicked herself in the butt everytime that was brought up. She evidently didn't notice him either.

Yawning, she took the phone to call Jive, her potential employer. Since she did have a business degree (From Yale, no less) she had decided to spread her wings into managing young hopefuls.

She hated to be away from this place, but it was cramping her style, making her claustrophobic. Interviews would be conducted today to try and hire a new store manager.

"Ma'am, your 3 oclock has just arrived." a impish secretary interrupted her thoughts, afraid of retrebution.

"Thanks, Maria, send her in." She wasn't sexist, just preferred lady managers over guy ones. They just simply got the job done better and didn't try to sleep with everything that walks.

Quickly hanging up the phone, she opened her door, her Louis Vitton heels clacking against the hardwood floor of her office.

Walking back around to sit in the leather chair behind her desk, she smoothed her Chanel business skirt down.

"Come have a seat, Mrs. Jennikins." Emma heard her potenital employer say. Her palms sweated as she shook her future bosses hand.

After a grueling hour interview with questions anywhere from What are your dreams? What do you hope to accomplish in this position? Imagine you had an employee named Jack, you caught Jack doing something against regulations, what would you do? to the personal questions Have you ever been invloved in drugs? Alcholol? Emma hated the 'What would you do in this situation' questions.

Her potential boss finally spoke " Okay, Mrs. Jennikins, I'm very impressed by your credientials. You're hired."

She fought the urge to jump up and down as she was escorted out of Mrs. Whitby's office.

Autumn huffed. She was supposed to meet with Mr. Brown, Jive's top executive in 30 minutes, but her assistant hasn't come with her wardrobe yet.

"Maria, what is the hold up, we have to be there in 30 minutes, 10 of which are going to be used to drive there." She nodded silently at the girls reply. Her favorite crushed green velvet suit was being brought up promptly. It brought out the natural red in her hair, and her dark honey colored brown eyes. Tapping her finger on the table impatiently, she took a deep breath. Nervous. She was nervous. She worked hard to be where she is today, and she was nervous? Gulping down air, she wiped her sweaty palms on the 1200 dollar Chanel suit.

She was told that her potential band, plus The Firms executive members would meet with her today. They'd tell her promptly and bluntly if they wanted her as their manager or not. That was fine with her, she liked blunt honesty. She crossed her fingers in a silent prayer. Please let it be Lifehouse. Taking a deep breath, she wiped the almost invisible speck of dust from her desk, straightened her papers, and got ready to change.

Placing hands on her head, she looked at her reflection. I need to put my hair down. That'd look better. She removed the bobby pins and got her brush. In long silent strokes, she brushed her waist length red hair till it shined. A few pins here and there, and she felt better. See, I can look pretty and businesslike at the same time . Groaning, she reapplied her makeup that had worn off from a hard days work.

Back home in Kissimee, she wasn't accustomed to this business style. Her usual style consisted of relaxed fit jeans, tops, and skirts. She was very conservative with a spunky twist. Right now, her black suit had vibrant metallic pinstripes eteched into the skirt and jacket. She wore a vibrant pink top, with pink stilletos. Maybe this will be a new fashion trend for business women everywhere. She gawfed. Yea Right.

Interuppting her thoughts once again, she looked up aruptly as Maria entered, cheeks flushed.

"Sorry about the wait, madam. " She quickly set the dress on the hook located on the door, and excused herself.

This suit was crushed green velvet. Her favorite. It had lace on the bottom in a lighter green, as well as satin lining on the inside of the jacket. This one, however wasn't one of her more spunkier suits. More conservative, the only thing that would catch the eye is the lace. She removed her pink stilettos and replaced them with black ones.

Quickly changing, running a brush through her hair, and checking herself in the mirror one last time, she grabbed her purse and headed outdoors to her awaiting limo. Yes, she loved traveling in style. She wasn't snobbish, just very proud of where her hard work got her. Her normal ride, a shiny dark red porshe, was currently at her Orlando condo being baby sat by Brooke.

She winced as she entered the Jive Building on the outskirts of Orlando. Her heels clanked loudly, making her appearance known. She smiled sheepishly at the few people that looked up from their work to stare at the person who interrupted their thoughts.

At least it wasn't windy today.

"Mrs. Autumn Whitby." She gave the expectant secretary her name.

"You're early Mrs. Whitby, they'll be with you in a minute." She nodded as if dismissing her, then went back to filing her nails.

Supressing a laugh, she sat in one of the many comfortable leather chairs.

Not five minutes passed when her name was called.

" Mrs. Whitby, their ready to see you now."

Smiling politely at the lazy secretary, she smoothed her skirt over her average size legs. She was only 5'7, in the stilettos, over 6 feet.

Putting her best professional face and a smile on, she stepped into the large room.

She fought the urge to throw up in her mouth. Wait, nevermind, she did a little bit.