by Alyssa Clark
“I think I can do that.” I looked at her without really seeing her. Instead, I was drawn into my own thoughts as to how to start the initial article. “I’ll do this. I’ll…” I paused for a beat as my thoughts struggled to take me away. “I’ll have to wait until I get home to do an outline to present to Simon, but,” I nodded to myself, “I can do this.”
Liz made a relieved sound that I barely caught. “I was afraid that I went too far with making this demand of you.” She caught my attention then. “I know I ask a lot of you, Charlie, but I don’t want you to forget how much I appreciate you as a friend. If you need help with this, you let me know, and I’ll be right there to do anything and everything that I can.”
I felt of determination, and I nodded to her, “You’re gonna help me a lot. We’re gonna get me out of editing, and I’m going to be a real writer.”
6
“I’m busy, Ms. Atkins.” Simon was behind his desk in the little closet office that was reserved for management positions. He wasn’t the editor in chief, but he was close enough to the top that he got his own space instead of just a cubicle like the rest of us. “If you’re asking for time off the answer is no.” He didn’t even look up from his screen.
Honestly, I didn’t know how he knew it was me standing in the doorway.
“I had an article I wanted to submit,” I said, hoping that the offering of content would get his attention.
He glanced up at me before he went back to his monitor. “You’re in editing.”
“When I applied for this job, I wanted to write.” I took a breath, summoning every bit of strength that I had to not go slink back to my cubicle to cry. “That’s what I want to do. I did this article in my free time, I emailed it to you already.” The only reason why I was there in his office is that I knew he had probably ignored my email.
If it wasn’t actual work, he wasn’t going to pay it any mind. But, Liz assured me if I was direct and firm with him, Simon would look at it. I just had to be direct and firm, two things that I wasn’t.
“Again,” he didn’t give me any bit of attention, “I’m busy. As you should be. You have three articles that should be in my mailbox, not some poor attempt at content.”
“They’re done.” I clenched my hands into fists. “I’ll submit them to you after you read my proposal and the initial article I’ve written.” It was a bold move, but I made sure that I had all my work done for the day before I came to him, I hadn’t intended to hold it for ransom. But I was going to get this done.
He actually gave me his full attention then, like he didn’t expect me to be so demanding. I didn’t know if I should be afraid or not. “I’m going to send you another article to proof and prep for posting. While you’re doing that, I will look at your email. By the time I’m done with it I expect you to be finished with the said assignment.” There was a warning in his tone.
I nodded, and I didn’t wait for anything else. I went back to my desk to begin work on the new thing he gave me to do. My heart was in my throat as I read the article he sent me, something about the amount of money that celebrities spent to maintain themselves as well as pictures of retired celebrities that had ‘let themselves go.’ It was superficial and disgusting and not something Liz worked on. It took me longer than usual to get through it because I had to force myself to read it.
There were some tensing issues, and I found myself wondering why this author was given a chance, but here I was stuck in editing. I hadn’t met Mary Gail Evans, which was no surprise with my poor people skill, but she didn’t seem like someone I was eager to socialize with.
That’s not fair of me, I realized. Maybe it was jealousy that had me thinking like that. I’d have to get a rundown from Liz about her.
There was a knock on the metal frame of my cubicle that threw me off balance. “Ms. Atkins. I’d like to see you in my office.” I jerked around in surprise to see Simon standing there expectantly.
“I’m not quite done with this article,” I argued. Honestly, I thought I had more time. Had it been an hour already?
“It can wait,” he snapped at me. “To my office, now.”
That was discerning. I stood immediately, and I followed his lead back to his office. I guessed that he read the article. Was he offended? I didn’t think what I wrote could be construed as sexual harassment, there was nothing resembling him in the article. I held my breath when I sat down, hoping I wasn’t in trouble.
“This,” he gestured to his monitor, “is a viral-worthy article. I want you to make it into a series.” If I hadn’t been holding my breath, I would’ve choked. “So that it doesn’t seem like fiction, you’ll need to get approval to include the details of the club into the article.” He paused to look back at me. I got the feeling this was going to be the part that would make this entire situation terrible. “Contact the club owner and do all that you can to get their approval. If the initial article is good, we might go as far as getting an interview with him, too.”
That meant I would have to go back to the club. That wasn’t the plan. Maybe I can get Liz to ask the club owner for me?
I’d have to try.
“Okay.” I sucked in a breath and tried to appear confident. I’d figure something out, I was sure. “I’ll get started on getting in contact with the club and see what I have to do to get it done.”
“Finish your work first,” he snapped at me. “This is going to be a project that I want you working on in tandem. Don’t ignore the assignments you already have.” He waved a hand, dismissing me. “I look forward to a report on what you get from the club owner in the AM.”
That meant I had to get this all done by today?
I was biting off more than I could chew, I could see that already. If I could figure out a way to get this done, I was sure I could get Liz to help. There was no way around it. After all, she was the one that started it all.
“Oh.” his voice stopped me from going out the door. I turned back to see his brows drawn together. “You have the name Stacey Charles attached to it. I’m assuming that’s the pen name you’ve decided on?” I nodded because I couldn’t imagine publishing something like this under my real name. “Do you have a bio ready, too? Or would you like me to work on something for you?”
I hadn’t even considered it. I stood in the doorway floundering as if I could put a fish to shame. “I-I’ll write one up for myself after I talk to the club owner.” I thought I sounded like I was confident, so I left on that note.
Now if only I could keep it with me.
7
“I can’t,” Liz said over my cubicle phone.
I felt my heart slide into the pit of my stomach and panic decide to put my gut into a choke hold. It brought a burn up my throat, and it was all I could do to not throw up. “Why not?” I asked, hoping she would have a good reason that wouldn’t be complete crap.
It felt like I tried to give her every excuse I could think of when it came to trying to get out of going to the club with her the first time. None of them worked. Why could she get out of something when I needed her?
“I have an assignment I’m working on, the deadline is eight pm. I don’t have any desire to stay here that late,” she heaved through the phone. “Trust me, I’d like nothing more than to hit the club with you again. I am so stressed,” she started, and I tried to figure out how going to a sex club would relieve stress. “But I can’t do it tonight. Hit me up on Friday, and I will totally be down to go. We need to make use of this membership we have as much as we can.”
I deflated back into my chair and tried not to whine into her ear. “That’s not what I needed you for. Simon said he wanted to mention the club. We can’t do that without the owner allowing us to.”
“You could…” she paused, and I heard her typing on her keyboard. “But there’s a chance that they might object to it. Which, sometimes, can lead to a lawsuit. That’s what Simon wants to avoid. I wouldn’t be surprised that he wants the full details of the club, either. Freak probably wants to try t
o join himself.”
“That’s not something I want to think about,” I said and hoped she’d listen.
“The way he likes to throw his power and position around,” she hummed like she hadn’t heard me. “I’d be he’d like nothing more than to put that in a sexual frame.”
“Isn’t he gay?’ I asked, hoping to throw her off the subject so she wouldn’t continue to put unwanted images in my head. Instead of the vision of Michael behind me, I saw Simon and I couldn’t help but shudder.
“Hipster,” she corrected me. “Doesn’t mean he’s gay. I mean he could be. I’ve never really looked too hard at him. He’s not my type.” I heard more typing, Liz abused her keyboards. She hit each key with a force that made the keys clack loud enough that I could hear it over the phone. “But that doesn’t matter anyway. What I can do is give you the information I have. Like the number to the club and the email address. Though,” she paused, the clacking at her keyboard, “it’s in your best interest to call instead of email.”
“But --”
“Don’t chicken out, Charlie,” Liz cut me off. She knew me too well. “Call. You’re going to appeal to the owner more with a phone call than you will in an email.”
“But --” I tried again, even though Liz’s argument was sound.
“No, buts!” She barked in my ear like she already knew what I was going to say. “Don’t psych yourself out before you even try. Get to work! The email with her number is in your inbox. Get it, woman!”
Then she hung up on me, not giving me an opportunity to tell her what a bad idea it was. I couldn’t take the pressure. Especially when my inbox lit up on my monitor letting me know Liz had done just as she said she would. I didn’t bother to open it.
I’m horrible at meeting new people, just the idea of talking to someone I didn’t know had my heart in my throat. So, I was putting off work by doing work. While I couldn’t put off reaching out to the club owner forever, Simon had been specific when he said that this assignment wasn’t to overshadow my current workload. It wasn’t really procrastinating if I was doing work, was it?
I keep entertaining that thought until a hand slammed down on the outside of my cubicle. I looked up, after jumping out of my chair and damn near falling backward. Liz was there, glaring at me. She knew what I was doing.
“Call her now.” She glowered at me.
“Her?” I asked. I tried to play dumb, but it really wasn’t an act. I didn’t realize the owner of the club was female.
“Yeah,” Liz snapped like I was missing something. “If you would have checked your email, instead of ignoring it, you would have seen that. Now get to callin’, I can’t hover at your desk all damn day.”
“Don’t hover then.” I tried to say it with some bravado, but it failed miserably. Especially with the way her eyes narrowed at me. I felt myself shrink further into my chair.
“Get it done,” she hissed, “Or I’m going to talk to Simon about it.”
I didn’t even wait to see if she was lingering at the door to my ‘office’ or if she was going to make good on her threat. I turned back to my computer and opened my email. I found the one from Liz that had ‘Decadence Club’ as the subject line. I scanned the body, picking up my phone as I did. I typed in the supplied number.
A ring echoed in my headset, and I had just enough time to sling it on before I got an answer.
“Angela Winters,” a voice slithered into my ear and managed to make every hair on my body stand on end. I never thought myself interested in other women before, though I wasn’t above admiring woman, this was the first one to really get my attention in such a way.
“Uh,” I was starting to stutter. What? I can’t talk to women now, too? Get it together, Charlie! “Y-yes ma’am.” I took a breath and closed my eyes as I forced myself ahead. “I’m Charlotte Atkins with Gossip Catalog. We have recently obtained a membership and visited your club, I was hoping to get your approval to write an article on it.”
“You have gained a membership with my club?” She sounded doubtful.
“Y-yes ma’am,” I stumbled over my words, and I looked over my shoulder to get some sort of reassurance from Liz. She wasn’t there.
“I might entertain this. What did you say your name was again?” She hummed, and it did things to me that I didn’t understand. I tried not to focus on my reaction.
“Charlotte Atkins,” I repeated for her.
“I have an open hour today.” I heard something that sounded like a slap and then a grunt that accompanied it. “I’d prefer not to have this conversation over the phone, come to the club with your idea. If you have a rough draft, I’d like to see it.” There was another slap, and I tensed like I was expecting the blow to land. The woman I spoke to didn’t seem at all concerned by what was coming through the phone. “Let’s say at five, before club opening. How will that do?”
I was flabbergasted, mostly because this seemed to be going way too easily, and I nodded. It took me a minute to realize she couldn’t see me, so I cleared my throat. “Yes, ma’am. I will see you then.”
“I will look forward to meeting you, Ms. Atkins,” she said to me as if she meant it and ended the call.
I put down the receiver and swallowed hard, looking at the time I had on the little digital clock on my monitor. I had two hours. I needed to finish this article, plus I felt the need to make an effort to clean myself up.
My usual work attire was shapeless jeans and an oversized sweater that somehow managed to fall under our dress code requirements. No one ever said a thing to me, but I felt woefully underdressed for meeting someone for business such as this.
I left work early, without giving Liz a heads up. I was afraid of what she would say, that she would insist I stay after the ‘interview’ with Ms. Winters. That I should visit a room. I couldn’t do that.
All I wanted from this was the chance to get to break out into what I really wanted. My passion and my dream.
8
I was fifteen minutes early getting to the club. Not as early as I’d like, but just early enough to freak out at the door. I’m doing this, I’m doing this. I couldn’t believe I was going to do this. All by myself.
Deep breaths, deep breaths. Do not have a panic attack in front of this woman! You are confident, you can handle this!
I glanced at my watch and noticed that the fifteen minutes I’d given myself had dwindled down to five. No, wait … four now. I was pissing my time away in this panic, and I knew without a doubt that I wouldn’t be winning any sort of favor by being late.
I took a deep breath and knocked lightly on the metal door. I counted to ten from there, keeping the panic at bay. When no one answered, I knocked again, this time harder. Another ten-second count and my time was dwindling down faster, so I knocked again. It felt like I was damn near beating down the door when someone finally answered. Now, I kind of wished I hadn’t knocked so hard.
A guy answered, a guy without a shirt on. His chest was so well defined that I was disappointed that I looked at it instead of focusing on his face. I wasn’t like that, I wasn’t that girl that focused on appearance first. But here I was, checking him out like I hadn’t just recently had sex within the last month. I followed the line between his pecs up to his strong jaw that was dusted with dark hair. His eyes were a penetrating brown that struck me as soon as mine connected with his.
A thick brow rose at me, and he seemed to be waiting on me expectantly when I didn’t answer. I was too caught up in the fact that a hot shirtless man answered the door. His eyes rolled.
“What?” he asked.
“I-I, I…” I started to stutter uncontrollably. There wasn’t a good reason behind it. It was probably just because he was so good looking. Liz would approve of that excuse. “I-I have a meeting with, uh..,” Fuck what was her name? Jesus Christ, I’m messing this opportunity up. “Angela Winters?”
I am so lame.
He looked unimpressed and moved aside, opening the door wider. “Stay in the mai
n lobby, she’ll come to get you when she’s ready for you,” he didn’t seem too concerned with me being there.
From there he left me with a view of his bare back and an ass that that was cradled so nicely in his jeans. I felt guilty checking him out. Fortunately, I was coherent enough to focus on just where he was going. From the main room, there was an open hallway that led to the rooms, which I was familiar with. But the man that had let me in went into a door to the side of the hallway, leaving me alone.
Curious, I waited a beat, giving him plenty of time to move away from the door before I went to press my ear against it. I didn’t hear anything, so I thought I was alone. What harm could there be in looking? I carefully opened the door and peeked into the room he had disappeared into. The darkness I saw there didn’t tell me anything. Didn’t tell me where the guy was or what was going on. Or what was behind the darkness.