Natalie
No wonder everybody hates Fat Ed.
It's already 10pm, and I'm still stuck at the office. I was about to head home, trailing after Michelle as she dragged her feet down the hallway, when Ed ambled out of his office, a burning cigarette perched on the corner of his mouth.
“I need you to do this. Tonight,” he grumbled, pushing a stack of documents into my hands. “ I need it uploaded then,” he told me, turning on his heels and marching down the hallway. “Have a good night!” he laughed as he left, leaving me completely stunned.
And now here I am, sitting behind a pile of documents as I turn them into tweets, Facebook posts, and what have you. Thankfully, Michelle’s here with me. The moment she saw what Ed did, she turned around and decided to stay behind to help me.
“What did you do to piss him off?” Michelle asks me, never looking up as she drums her fingers against her keyboard, furiously tapping at the keys. “Gah, this is fucking bullshit! He has you updating the information on the website about the local teams. The local teams! What did you do to piss him off?” she repeats. Jumping up from her seat and placing her hands on her hips, she taps one foot against the floor as she waits for my reply, and I feel like a schoolgirl telling her parents the reason she brought home a note from school.
“Nothing!” I sigh, gritting my teeth as I feel anger taking over me. Why today, of all days? I can't work overtime today!
“Well, he looked pissed off. But then again, he always looks as if he's pissed off about something,” she admits, sitting back on her chair and exhaling sharply, her frustration showing on the wrinkles on her forehead.
“Do you think he realized I was keeping something from him?” I ask her, my eyes darting to the trash basket in the corner. It’s already empty though; it’s so late that the cleaners have already come to empty it.
“Maybe? I don’t know… Who the hell knows what’s going through his head?” Focusing on her screen again, she goes back to typing so fast that I’d almost say it’s humanly impossible. That’s Michelle—Goddess of Procrastination by day, the Vigilante of Productivity by night.
“Oh, well,” she continues, “it’s not like I have anything better to do. I was hoping to doze off while watching Netflix, but oh well.”
“I wish I could feel as upbeat as you do,” I admit. “He couldn’t have chosen a worse day.”
“Why’s that? Had any plans for tonight?”
“Yeah…” I whisper, biting on my lower lip. Maybe I should’ve kept my mouth shut - now I’ll have to tell her about it. “I had a, uhm, date.”
“Oh, you rascal!” She laughs, looking away from her screen and looking straight into my eyes. “Which one is it? The gentleman or the wild beast?”
“The wild one,” I laugh, feeling my cheeks turn red.
“You’re really something, uh? Who’d have thought it? Natalie, going on dates with multimillionaire fighters… Soon enough you won’t even need to be a journalist. Just get a ring on your finger and you’ll be set for life.”
“It’s not like that. And, besides, the way you say it… It’s not as easy as you think, you know?” I tell her, throwing my head and staring at the ceiling for a few moments. “It just isn’t right - I mean, I’ve been with Logan, now I’m going out with Hunter. It’s just so --”
“So fantastically awesome? Because from where I’m standing, that’s what it looks like.”
“Yeah, yeah… Alright, it’s a lil’ bit awesome. But I don’t feel that great about it. I don’t like being duplicitous.”
“Then don’t,” she shrugs, “just be honest. And grab your phone; tell Hunter to come and get you. I’ll cover for you tonight.”
“No! You don’t need to --”
“I do. And you’ll treat me to dinner one of these days. Somewhere fancy. Now grab your phone and do what I tell you to, you peasant!” She finishes off, raising her voice and trying to speak with a faux (and definitely very exaggerated) British accent.
“Right away, Your Royal Highness,” I reply in the same tone as her, chuckling as I grab my phone and send Hunter a quick text. Sure, I’ll be there in 30, he replies just a few seconds after I fired off my message. I don’t even know how to thank Michelle - I had already given up on dinner with Hunter, and now he’s picking me up at the office. Ah, I’m definitely taking her to the fanciest place I can find whenever I have the chance.
“Alright,” Michelle yawns a few minutes later, raising her arms and stretching her back. She closes the her laptop’s lid and then jumps up to her feet. “I’m taking this home, and I’ll finish it in front of TV. It’s going to be long night for me, so you better make sure my sacrifice wasn’t made in vain.”
“Aye, aye, Captain!” I reply, getting up to my feet and offering her a mocking salute. “Seriously, Michelle, I don’t even know how to thank you.”
“Don’t. Just make sure you have fun, alright? Have a g’night.” With her purse slung over one shoulder, the laptop tucked under her arm, she heads out of the office and leaves me alone in the eery silence of the Gazette. Hunter’s going to be here in five minutes or so, so I better get ready.
I’m about to head out the sports department offices and make my way toward the bathroom, when I hear the chime on my Facebook feed go off. My eyes dart to it almost instantly, and my eyes widen as I see a video of Logan under a headline I wasn’t expecting: “A FIGHT IN THE MAKING?”
Holding my breath, I drag the mouse icon toward the video and press play. I watch in sullen silence as a bunch of journalists crowd around Logan, pestering him with a thousand questions all at once. Then, the guys shoving their mics into Logan’s face start going on and on about Logan, and that’s when he relents: if Hunter wants to fight, he’s more than willing to oblige.
Oh, crap, is all this because of me? After what Hunter told me, the last thing I want is for two to fight each other over me. No way I’d accept something like that. Feeling nervous, I stand up and walk out of the office. I’m making my way toward the bathroom when I hear footsteps behind me.
“Did you forget something?” I ask Michelle as I turn around to face her, except these footsteps don’t belong to Michelle. Before I know it, Hunter has his hands on my waist, and he pushes me back until I’m pinned against the wall.
“Hello there,” I laugh, looking into his eyes as I feel my pussy growing wet. Just having his body on mine like this… It’s enough to drive me crazy. And to make me forget about Logan’s willingness to fight.
“Hey,” he grins, brushing his lips against mine. Then, taking one step back, he adjusts the collar of his shirt and offers me his arm. “Shall we?”
I’m about to ask him if he saw the video with Logan, when I hear the elevator stopping at the end of the corridor. I look at it by instinct, watching as the door slides open, and my heart stops as I realize who’s coming.
It’s Logan.