The Frog & the Businesswoman (GirlxGirl WlW)

Chapter 1

Joane looks at me with curious eyes as I tap my fingers on the table. "I want to ask what's wrong, but I don't want to die in the process," she says, placing the cup of coffee in front of me.

"The new intern didn't show up," I grumble. "Not only was I not informed of her arrival, but she didn't even care to come to her first day — I tried calling the number attached to her resume, but it just kept ringing."

Joane hums and takes a sip from her own cup of coffee. "Maybe there was a mistake somewhere? She may have been given the wrong date," she shrugs.

"If that's the case, then why would she not pick up her phone?"

"You know how kids are nowadays," she rolls her eyes, "Try a message."

"I did."

"Maybe something came up," Joane continues, unperturbed.

"If so, she should have contacted the HR department instead of leaving everyone hanging like that," I sigh, frustrated. "It's unprofessional — unless you tell me she got run over on the way here. That's the only excuse I'll accept."

"You're a tough boss, you know that?"

I raise a brow at her. "Well, someone has to be. If I'm not on top of you, nothing gets done in this damned department... speaking of that," I squint my eyes. "What are you doing here, siting in my chair as if this is a café? Go back to work, please."

"Alright, alright," she waves a dismissive hand. "No need to get all salty about it," she says, rising from the seat.

"And don't forget to email HR about the intern."

"Will do."

As soon as Joane leaves, I rest my head against the palm of my hand and let out another tired sigh. There are still three hours left till the end of the day, and I can already feel the incoming headache. "Why is it so hard to find good employees?" I mutter.

"That's mean, you know?" a voice suddenly speaks from beside me. I don't even have time to process what's going on before a frog hops onto my table. "I'm an excellent employee!"

I stare at the green frog as it stares back at me, petrified in place. Its long tongue coming out every now and then to lick its own face. I slowly reach to a stack of papers on the other side of the table and smack it at the creature — it falls onto the ground and lies there unmoving.

"I've gone mad," I say to myself. "I've finally lost it."

"Ugh... ouch my back, oof," the frog groans, slowly getting up while holding its back with a frog-y hand. "Why would you do that?"

"Because you're not real?" I ask-say, and then shake my head. "This isn't happening right now. I'm having a hallucination because of lack of sleep."

"No, you're not," it says, and hops towards me. "I am very much real, and very much a human — a really hot one, I might add." I hold the papers up again, ready to strike in case it tries to approach me again. It holds its hands up in a defensive manner, or well, as far as frogs can do that. "Alright, alright — calm down," it says. "Just hear me out."

I don't lower the papers, but I stop myself from attacking. "You're a talking frog."

"Yes."

"A talking frog," I repeat.

"Yes."

"I'm insane," I say, dropping the papers back on the desk.

"No," it insists. "Listen, I know this looks weird, but just hear me out. I was coming to work this morning when I fell into a pond — I'm not sure of what happened, but... next thing I know, I'm hopping around and eating flies," it shudders. "My name is Louise Bouvet, I was supposed to come for my first day."