Blake grinned. “It was a horrible film. I could do what he does, probably better, and not just being mean to everyone.”
“Well, you’ve certainly got that down.”
Blake rolled his eyes. “When are you due?”
She glanced to her stomach with a smile. “January.” She guffawed. “Can you believe. I have three and a half months to go.”
“Twins?”
“Are you being rude?”
He glanced back at her wide-eyed seriousness on her face. “No, I mean, you look like you’re gonna burst anytime now.”
Ruby scoffed and took the time to look around the room, but there was nobody there at her defence. “I was always on the larger side, Blake, we can’t all only think about ourselves and our appearance all the time.”
Although Blake thought differently, Ruby had always been concerned about her appearance, even now while pregnant, she made it almost her job to wear tight clothing and push her stomach a little further. For Ruby, being pregnant was a conversation starter.
Blake nodded and walked away. Her comments didn’t seem to make sense as he repeated them over to himself, mainly because Ruby didn’t have any children, this would be her first, and before then, she only had herself to think about, and her husband, but he’s not incapable of looking after himself.
Blake bumped into the wet and sweaty Chris, standing at the kitchen sink. He was too busy thinking to even notice, until he felt it against him.
Chris turned and huffed in Blake’s face. “If you do anything like that again, I’ll—” he clenched his jaw. “Play fair.”
Blake ran the tap and cleaned out his cup. “You’ll play fair?”
Chris nodded. “I’m going to win anyway, so, why not make it a fair fight.”
“That’s where you’re wrong, my content is better suited to the magazine.”
Chris flipped his watch around on his wrist. “I need to go change. I don’t have the time.”
Blake watched as Chris walked away in his activewear; the tight clothing clung to his skin, revealing every muscles and bulge across his body. A tingle ran through Blake’s shoulder, a similar sensation he recalled before cumming. He shook his head and pounded the sponge inside the cup, scrubbing hard.
Seeing every part of Chris’ body through his clothes replayed through Blake’s thoughts. It riled him and his heart flourished, skipping a beat. The ding dropped, and his dick grew inside his body-hugging underwear. He glanced around before shoving a hand into his pants and pulling his dick up to the waistband.
It dazed him. Completely. His focus was a void as he walked back to his office. Only blinking out of it once Ava arrived with coffee.
“I have your coffee.” Ava’s chipper voice sprang.
“Uh. Ava.” He took a deep breath and wiped at his eyes. “I don’t know why I drink that instant shit, it goes right through me.”
She handed him the coffee. “Oh, my god. You’re not gonna—”
“Gonna shit myself?” he laughed. “Not that I know of.”
Ava wiped at her forehead. “Phew.” She snorted. “Have to be on alert, see how Chris will get you back.”
Blake shrugged. “Hopefully, he doesn’t. Think we have a truce.”
“Nah.”
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t buy it, not for a minute.” She squinted at him. “He’s the kind of guy who will lure you into a false sense of security, and then bam, attack.”
“You think?”
“I know.” She poked her head outside Blake’s office. “Danny more or less told me, he’s not backing down.”
Blake wiggled the mouse to wake the computer. “Oh. And you told Ruby about the tickets?”
“Well, she gave me the idea.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah, oh, I don’t think she’s a fan of Chris either.”
The no internet sign appeared on Blake’s computer again, with the large red X through the internet box. He hovered his mouse over it, clicking around to see what he could do. “Might have to call IT again.”
“Again? Didn’t they fix it?”
He shrugged. “Thought so.”
Chris sat at his office desk drying his hair with a towel. He’d changed from his activewear into a black and white button-down shirt and a pair of black jeans. It was his routine, to be at the gym in the morning and shower in the office once he arrived at work. He looked around his desk, there was something he didn’t account on, a break in his routine; no coffee.
Danny. My office. He texted.
Danny walked in seconds later, combing a hand through his long hair before hitting his cap backwards on his head. “Yep? What’s up?”
“Why don’t I have my coffee?”
Danny held his hands high. “There wasn’t one for you. Did you place your order with Gloria?”
Chris brushed his tongue under his top teeth. “I don’t speak to Gloria.”
“Oh, well—”
“I speak to you, you speak to her, that’s why there’s an assistant, so we don’t have to waste time going to everyone individually.”
Danny nodded, opening the side of his mouth in a half-smirk. “Gotcha.”
“You know this, you’ve worked here over a year, what’s changed?”
He itched at the side of his neck, revealing a large purple hickey. “I don’t know, I just figured Gloria was handling it all.”
“And that?”
“What?”
“That ugly love bite.”
Danny chuckled. “That’s from—”
“I really don’t want to know.”
“Right, right, right. So, I wanted to tell you, we cut the internet, my man in IT is gonna screw with everything, block his access, you know, so don’t worry about the whole Blake thing.”
Chris puffed through his nose. “I’m not worrying.” He moved the mouse to wake his computer. “But, he should, I lost a viral story because of him.”
Two hours passed as Blake sat at his computer, writing responses to letters, and every fifteen minutes he’d try Internal Explorer, only to hit back with no internet connection. It forced him into productivity, without music or the world news to occupy him, he cut through envelopes and unfolded letters, skimming through and sorting into piles.
Ava knocked twice on Blake’s door. She popped her head inside. “You needed me?”
“Yeah, come in.”
“Do you have internet yet?”
He scoffed. “What does it look like?”
“Like you’re being productive.”
“Parents.” Blake gestured to one pile. “Children.” To another. “Stupid questions, and other letters.”
Ava nodded. “What’s in the other?”
“Spam, mostly, and replies to my answers.”
“And what do you want to throw away?”
He shook his head. “None of them. I wanted to know if there were anymore. Monday is usually a big mail day.”
Ava tssked, tilting her head. “I checked already. Nothing.”
“Ugh.” He turned in his chair and stared out of the window. “Must be the weather.”
Ava shrugged. “Must be. Ugh.” She glanced to her watch. “Need to go remind Ruby to take her prenatal vitamins.”
“Okay.” He stood and stretched, standing on his tiptoes. Blake never had the best view out of his window, but it brought in a lot of light, even through the dark grey clouds and mood dampening weather.
A knock at the door moved Blake to stumble back into his seat.
“I’m from IT.” A man in corduroy purple trousers and a plain pistachio shirt stood with a black laptop back over his shoulder.
Blake turned in his seat.
“I’m Paul.”
“Finally.” He rolled his eyes. “So, it’s not connecting to the internet at all.”
Paul stuck his hand out to shake Blake’s, but instead, Blake nodded. He let Paul into his desk. “Just the internet?” He placed his laptop bag on the desk with a thump, kno
cking the piles of letters into each other.
“Yep. That’s it.” He let out a groan from the back of his throat, seeing the letters merged. He piled them all together and collected them.
Paul sat and clicked around on Blake’s computer. “Ah.”
“Ah?”
“Yeah. Seems to be a software issue?”
“Software?”
Paul hummed. “Yup. I’ll have to update it.”
“Great, how long will that take?”
He weighed around with his hands. “How long’s a piece of string?” he laughed.
“Not helping, I have a lot to do.”
“I’m just playing.”
“So? How long?”
He chuckled harder. “I can’t say. It depends on the model of the computer. The newer models take to updates faster.”
An hour and thirty minutes passed while Blake scribbled notes on paper, a to-do list of things for when he had access to his computer again. He looked at his watch continuously, waiting on lunch.
A knock roused Blake from his seat in the corner of his office. He glanced at Paul, tapping away on the laptop he’d brought with him. Ava stood, chewing on her bottom lip.
“What’s wrong?” Blake asked, standing at the door.
“Nicole wants to see you.”
Blake deflated at his shoulders. “What now?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“And where’s my lunch?”
She tssked. “It was taken to the meeting?”
“Huh?”
“There was a meeting, I just found out. I’ve been out of the office trying on clothes for Donna’s model, apparently, she’s my size.”
Blake banged his head against the door frame.
Paul cleared his throat. “Everything okay there?”
Blake turned to say something, and paused. He bit his tongue and shook his head. He took a deep breath and smiled at Ava. “Where’s Nicole now?”
“Her office.” Ava nodded to the floor above.
The floor above was a menacing place to be sent to, especially unannounced, much like being sent to the boss’ office or waiting to see a doctor because they have news for you. Blake walked the office hallway and trudged passed meeting rooms until reaching Nicole in her room.
Nicole sat upright in her chair. “Blake.”
He took a seat and gulping hard. “Yeah?”
“We’re not happy.”
“Why?”
“Missing deadlines, missing important meetings? What’s happened?”
He loosened the collar of his shirt. “My computer doesn’t have internet, I told you. And I thought the meeting was tomorrow.”
“Still?”
“Yeah. Since last week.”
Nicole nodded. “You should’ve told me, again, and again. How can we work together when I don’t know these things?”
He shrugged. “I thought—”
“Don’t think, just do. Tell me if you need help, don’t wait around or rely on IT, I have better pull with Dean.” She sighed. “I’ll give you the rundown on the meeting, it will be in your email, but as you don’t have access to those, I’ll go through it.”
“Oh, my god, thank you, so much.”
She waved a hand. “No, not yet. I lied for you in there, told them you weren’t feeling too well. I put my neck on the line.”
Blake’s hands trembled as unbuttoned the shirt at the wrist. “I understand.”
“Good. So, we spoke about interactivity, web hits, moving away from the magazine to the website. Most of the company is already doing this, unless you’re a regular columnist, and of course, featured articles. But, we reiterated no ad revenue for employees, I fought for this, and when you were hired I said it was a possibility, I did not say for certain it would happen.”
Blake continued to nod. “As soon as the internet is up on my computer, I’ll be back on form.”
“Great. You are the most interactive, but you don’t get near as many hits as some others.” Nicole opened her office desk drawer. “And I saved this for you.” She pulled out a sandwich with a white sticky label with ‘Blake’ written on it. “Okay, now, I know we have a policy on USBs being used, but if the internet doesn’t work, we’ll have to switch it up and save everything on externally.”
Blake grinned and accepted the sandwich, feeling his stomach grumble at the sight of food. “Hopefully, everything sorts itself out.”
“I hope so too.” She smiled at him with her thin lips. “And no more arguing in the staffroom with Chris, we should’ve have told either of you.”
“Got it.”
“So, apologise, or whatever you have to do. We have a great working environment here, we’re not about to let you two walk all over it.”
“I’ll do everything I can.” He pressed his hands together.
SEVEN
Coffee to cocktails
With a completely updated computer and an internet connection, Blake had plenty to occupy himself with, compiling an email of completed responses to letters for Nicole to peruse for approval, alongside the article that should’ve been published already.
Blake’s stomach rumbled, reminding him he’d been telling himself he’d leave any minute now, ever since Ava said goodbye and left at 5 P.M. Blake looked at his computer to see the time. It was 7:34 P.M.
“Made up for lost time,” he moaned to himself, leaning back in his office chair and stretching his arms above his head. He turned in his chair to face the window, confronted by his reflection in the darkness outside.
Chris also stayed behind late, since his article for the coming week was lost with a pair of film passes. He was quick on his feet to think of something new, but not everything was always approved, especially when most of his ideas could’ve been offensive to their core demographic; women.
Blake stood, impatiently pressing the call button of the lift when Chris approached him, slowly, almost trying to let Blake get in the elevator so he could call for another once he’d left.
Chris cleared his throat, coughing into a fist. “Late?”
Blake grumbled, giving Chris his side eye. “Had to catch up, someone cut the internet.”
Chris scoffed. “Someone?” He looked around at the darkened hallway. “You sure it wasn’t an update?”
Blake rolled his eyes. “Whatever you want to call it.”
The elevator doors opened and Blake walked in. Chris took a step back.
“This is stupid,” Blake said, gesturing for him to come in.
“You’re right. This is stupid.” Chris stood beside Blake.
The interior walls of the elevator were covered in mirrored glass, showing their reflections back at each other.
“Where’s that large bag you carry everywhere?” Blake asked, noticing he didn’t have anything with him in the mirrors of the elevator.
“Took it home earlier, needed to make sure it’s washed for the morning.”
“And you do that every day?”
He shrugged. “Most days.”
Silence echoed through with each ding passed, signalling the floor they passed. Finally, ground floor, the reception area. A guard stood at the front door.
“We should talk about it,” Chris said, as Blake stormed ahead.
Blake halted. “About what?”
“Just work.” He grinned, flashing his white smile. “And a coffee.”
Blake chewed on the side of his lip and nodded. “Sure. Maybe I’ll finally understand how you get paid to write hate columns.”
Chris laughed. “And maybe I’ll find out how people can take your advice seriously.”
“Come on, you’re letting the cold air in.” The guard on duty held the front door open, waiting for them to leave.
Blake and Chris scanned their work passes as they left the building and stood together on the windy streets. The rain had stopped, but the darkness in the dull grey clouds still hung in the sky.
“Where can we get good coffee?” Chris asked.
<
br /> Blake looked at the deserted street. “I know an Italian café, Alfonso, it’s open late.”
Chris held his hands high. “Great. I love Italians, half of my mother’s side is Italian.”
“I thought you were Spanish.”
“My dad’s side is from Spain.”
Blake nodded. “Cool.” He gestured to the left. “This way.”
Blake led the way for a five-minute walk while talking about how great the coffee was, because Italian’s knew good coffee, and great ice cream, but most importantly, they knew pizza, it was unfortunate they were a café and not a pizzeria.
The interior was decked out in old vintage wood panelling. It was cosy and quaint, with each table decorated in intimate candle lighting.
“We can go somewhere else,” Blake said, glancing through the window.
“You said good coffee, right?”
He hummed. “Right.”
Chris opened the door and walked in, Blake followed, hesitant. He texted Dannika. Emergency. I’m out for coffee with Chris. If I die. You know who did it.
Her reply was three letters. LOL.
“You okay?” Chris asked, turning to Blake. He nodded. “Two coffees. They come with biscotti, right?”
The barista smiled, her plump cheeks rosy red. “They do.”
Chris clapped. “I love biscotti.” He glanced back at Blake. “I just got regular coffees.”
Blake stuck his thumb up. “Great.”
“I’ll bring them over,” the barista said, smiling at them.
Blake and Chris took seats beside the window. They removed their overcoats and sat. Blake pulled his bowtie from around his neck and unbuttoned the top two buttons of his shirt. “That’s better,” he said.
Chris stared out on the street through the window, out into the dull street. “So, tell me more about you, Blake Harris, and how you started giving people advice?”
Blake sighed. “I kinda only agreed to this because Nicole said I needed to make amends.”
“Me too.”
Blake smiled. “Glad we’re on the same page. I thought you were being nice because you were going to kill me.”
“Ha! Really?”
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