Piper

Compared to others, it is a busy day in the office.

Everyone is running around like chickens with their heads cut off. Advertising is going nuts because they have to be done with a certain board by five p.m. in order for the printed issue to go out on shelves by the weekend.

Luckily for me, I worked late the past two nights and don’t have much left to wrap up on.

I’ve finished wrapping up edits on an article about how a spoiled, blended, rich family that is famous for simply breathing will celebrate their Christmas—blech—and now I wait…wait for that clock on the wall to strike three.

Chewing the end of my pen, I take a look around the office from my desk. Everyone is in his or her offices, typing away at their keyboards or sharing ideas.

Jen Whitney, our lovely publisher and the reason I even have a job, is flitting around, making sure everyone is working hard and doing nothing less than his or her best.

“Come on, people. Christmas is in two days! We need everything done or no one will be going anywhere for the holidays!” I can hear her, even with my door shut.

The way she talks is like, I’m in charge, but if you fuck up I can and will fire your sorry ass.

It’s feisty and I like it. She gets her point across.

Is she sweet? Yes. But she’s also very demanding and often lonely.

She is a pretty woman, though, and I adore her ambition and drive. We are pretty close outside of the office, but she works so much that she doesn’t have much time for dating or casual friendships.

She and I work about the same number of hours, but unlike her I prefer to have a little time to myself outside of the workplace.

I like to travel.

I like to try new things and eat exotic food.

I like doing shit. Period.

When she’s in her office again, I lower my pen, staring down at the cellphone sitting on the corner of my desk. All morning I’ve been debating whether I should really let Matthew come over.

My lovely apartment isn’t really all that personalized, though it is decorated nicely. I hired someone to design it for me, but there isn’t much to look at other than the upscale designer furniture.

The only family portrait I have is of me and Stanley having dinner when he won an award and a bonus five years ago. I would never admit this to my family, but he is my favorite sibling out of the three.

He’s my favorite because he’s the least judgmental of them all. He’s the reason I chased my dreams. He told me constantly that he believed in me and since he did, I believed in myself.

Hmm…I do have a favorite wine that always happens to be in the kitchen and I do have a lot of questions I need to ask about him, just in case.

Maybe I can write up a quick article about my weekend with an escort and pass it over to Jen. I won’t say it’s from me personally (I’ll have to add a pen name), but I will let it be known that it’s from someone close to me and that I think it should be shared.

Inside Scoop is a magazine about the modern world. It’s about social media, fashion, food, and the best clubs in New York. The best places to travel, how to get your boyfriend to eat you out, how to go down on your boyfriend—it has it all, I’m telling you.

Reading about my experience with a male escort would fit perfectly…though I’m not sure how Matthew would feel about it.

I drop my pen on the desk and snatch up my phone. Matthew sent me a text last night to let me know what his number was. Now that I have it, I’m game.

He responds in less than a minute.

Why does he always respond with a question? Is this part of the gig?

Wow. Bold.

I send him my address and drop my phone with a slight frown. I’m realizing he’s a cocky son-of-a-bitch. But cocky is good. It means there’s confidence, and a confident man is bound to blend in with my over-the-top family.

I lean back in my leather chair, picking up my cup of lukewarm coffee just as Jen knocks on my door three times.

“Hey, Jen!”

“Hey, Pipes. Did you finish editing that article?”

I pick up the final printed sheet of paper quickly, holding it proudly in the air. “I did. All ready to scan and print.”

“God, you are a lifesaver.” Jen marches forward in her flats, taking the paper from me. She then sighs, sitting on the edge of my desk. “So, are you going to the family cabin again this year?”

I roll my eyes. “You already know the answer to that.” It’s an annual thing.

“Alone?”

“I have a friend coming with me.”

Jen gasps and then gives me a shit-eating grin. “A friend? Who is this friend?”

“He’s…no one you should be too concerned about.”

“He? A man? Oh, wow, my little Pipes is growing up on me!”

I laugh out loud. “It’s not what you’re thinking.”

“Well, who is he? I didn’t even know you were talking to anyone.” She leans in closer, making me feel a bit uncomfortable.

“He’s just a guy, Jen,” I laugh. “And he’s only coming so I don’t look like a total loser to my family for going alone again.” I refuse to tell her I’m paying him to come along…or that he is indeed an escort. That’s like saying I’ve hired a prostitute.

“How does he look?” she inquires.

I guess I can brag about his looks. “He’s pretty hot. Eyes like honey, slick brown hair, the perfect beard, and a really nice ass. He has it all, Jen. Full package.”

“Ooohh. He sounds yummy.” She stands up again, making her way to the door as she says, “Well, I hope this guy can please your family. I, of all people, know that your family can be very difficult.”

Yes, in fact, she does know that. She knows because when I was first hired to work at Inside Scoop, I invited Jen to come to the cabin so I wouldn’t be alone. It was a huge mistake.

My parents hounded her, asking her how she could hire me and even telling her they should let me go so I could find a “more appropriate” job. It was told to her in secret, but of course Jen with her big mouth told me every last detail.

I felt horrible for putting her through that, but what was worse was how embarrassed I felt. My parents had no hope for me at all. Their disappointment was very clear to Jen, which is why she shows me pity here and there.

I don’t mind it because it helps me keep my damn job, but it can be very annoying to think about. We try to avoid talking about it, but every Christmas it ends up a topic of discussion somehow.

Now, it’s easier to laugh about it. But the first year—boy, it was tough to even ask Jen for an extra pen.