Mr. Rich Boy [IN EDITING]

2

The McColton Brothers. The name had a nice ring to it.

Maggie spent another night diligently researching her new client, though this time she was alone, with no weed or wine, and no Bachelor. This was a more serious endeavor. She was now on Google, trying to find any extra information she could about Sean that she could use to her advantage. To any average person on the street, this may seem like stalking, but she is a professional who has a job to do. She is simply making sure that she has the right tools to keep her company in business. But that didn't mean she didn't enjoy looking at him.

All she could find at first were highlight reels and player profiles from a few years back. Apparently Sean was a goalie for lacrosse in his high school and college days. He went to Dartmouth University where he studied Economics and played on the men's lacrosse team for four years. He was a pretty successful guy, she was beginning to discover. Suddenly she felt her degree in Fashion and Design from Penn State was useless in comparison. This man was big league. Big Ivy League.

Her phone buzzed rhythmically next to her, and the sound of a marimba played in her ears. The name "Hanna Banana" glowed on her screen. She answered her call and put it on speaker, turning her attention back to her laptop. "Yo."

"How's it going? Find any juicy goss?" Hanna asked her, also sounding distracted on the other line.

"Not really. But get this — you'll laugh at how predictable he is," Maggie smiled to herself, in awe of what she had read so far. Hanna crooned gleefully in anticipation. "This dude went to Dartmouth—"

"Of course."

"—where he studied Economics—"

"Granted."

"—and played lacrosse."

"Holy shit. Was he in a frat?" Hanna asked her, knowing full well that she was going to enjoy the answer. Maggie mused in agreement. Hanna let out a deep, sly laugh. "Come on, give it to me. What was he?"

"Our boy was a — drumroll please," Maggie responded, and Hanna made a noise with her mouth imitating a marching band. Maggie exhaled quickly, "Sigma Chi."

"Oh, no," Hanna groaned and fell into fits of laughter, "not a Sigma Chi! At least make him a Delt!"

Maggie could not contain her laughter. There was nothing particularly funny about Sigma Chi to the two of them, and they didn't really know anything at all about the Dartmouth Greek Life, but they persistently stuck to this joke and would not let it go. They began acting like Brads and Chads and starting calling each other "bro" and asking where their Juul was.

Maggie prayed that if she and Sean ever got to talking about their college experiences, she wouldn't laugh in his face.

*

She just missed the elevator. It was 8:59 a.m. and she missed the elevator. She even called out to the man she made eye contact with as the doors were closing to hold it for her. Maybe he didn't hear her, because he let the doors shut just as she was about to catch them. She frantically pressed the button to no avail. "Shit," she hissed, checking her phone.

Realistically she knew it wouldn't be terrible if she walked in at 9:05, but she had never been late before in her whole two years of working there. In fact, Cheryl often liked to make a quip about how she's always perfectly on time. Now, when she walked in late, who knew what Cheryl would say to her.