Re-Mix Magazine was housed on the second floor of the Empire Building at Empire Park. Known as a hub of creativity and artistic expression, the Empire building was a creative person’s sanctuary. The first floor was comprised of art classes, writing rooms, small offices, studios, and performance spaces. The second floor was Re-Mix Magazine.

Owned and operated by Luna Daniels, Re-Mix Magazine was an East Coast staple in the artistic community. There wasn’t a creative person from Virginia to New York that didn’t know about the seventeen-year-old entrepreneur who started her own magazine and grew it to be a powerhouse in ten short years. Luna Daniels wasn’t just the woman with whom I had an interview, she was who I aspired to be.

My interview was in less than twenty-four hours and I needed to calm my nerves. It was a gorgeous day, so even though I’d hoped for a quiet park experience, I wasn’t surprised by the amount of people exercising, playing, and enjoying the feeling of fall being around the corner. People roamed the small park enjoying the beautiful day. But I sat motionless on the park bench late Thursday afternoon and took it all in.

Staring at the building, I prayed, hoped, and wrote for hours. I was in the zone, and it wasn’t until I finished tweaking my series idea for my follow up interview that I realized the sun was starting to set. With the notebook resting in my lap, I inhaled deeply.

I was ready.

Rays of light cascaded around the building and heated my skin. I felt like I was basking in the glow of a new season. Autumn was in the air and a new opportunity was on the horizon. For the longest time I just sat there, taking it all in. I wasn’t just ready for the interview, I was ready for my new job.

I got this. I scanned the park before letting myself relax into a huge smile. This job is mine.

“Look out!” a man yelled from somewhere behind me.

Instinctively, I flinched, covering my head. A football hit the back of my bench and I yelped, jerking my body in an attempt to take cover. My notebook flew in one direction, my phone and pen flew in the other. Even though my eyes were closed, I heard the pounding footsteps of someone approaching from behind. I heard a man’s voice, but I couldn’t make out what he’d said because of the sound of the blood rushing in my ears.

“You scared the shit out of me,” I growled with my eyes still closed as tightly as my clenched fists.

“Sorry about that. Are you okay?” he asked, his voice causing my heart to skip a beat.

My eyes flew open.

Even though his head was down as he picked up my belongings, I knew who he was before he looked up at me. The deep, gritty voice that stroked each word with the care and concern of an English teacher while still managing to speak to the most intimate parts of my body could only belong to one man.

“Akila?” Carlos said my name with a surprisingly soft tone. His facial expression showcased his surprise, but his tone said something else. There was something about the gentle way his smooth voice wrapped around my name that made it sound like he was talking to himself but calling out to me.

“Carlos.” I silently prayed he didn’t notice the slight hitch in my voice as I said his name. Clearing my throat, I tried speaking again. “What are you doing here?”

Still crouching down in front of me, he handed me my belongings. His white t-shirt stretched over his broad shoulders and his muscular arms, and I did everything in my power not to notice. I was attracted to his aura, his mind, his voice, his face, and his body.

Dammit, I cursed to myself. He was the entire package.

An indescribable look darkened his brown eyes and nerves fluttered in my belly. I shifted my weight from one side to the other as I waited awkwardly for him to answer me.

Stop staring back at him, I silently coached myself as I took a deep breath. Shake it off and end this whole conversation before you embarrass yourself.

Ignoring the desire that churned between my legs, I opened my mouth to tell him that I was just leaving. But when he wet his lips and I caught a glimpse of his tongue, that yearning deep within me caused me to have a temporary lapse in speaking ability.

For the first time, he flashed those pearly white teeth into a full-blown smile. I fought the urge to smile back.

Wow, I thought as I bit the inside of my cheek.

I had to rip my eyes away from him in order to keep myself from getting too caught up in the feelings he brought out of me. It was a dangerous mix of desire, lust and familiarity. It was the kind of feeling that snuck up on me and gripped me tight.

“Thank you,” I murmured, pretending to wipe the nonexistent dirt and grass from my notebook so I could collect myself.

“And to answer your question, Date Night records in a studio here.”

My eyes darted to his and narrowed. Everything stopped. The butterflies he’d given me disappeared. That warm feeling he filled me with ran cold. And I remembered why he was off limits.

“Wow,” I scoffed. I was mad at myself for forgetting who he really was in the first place. Shaking my head, I muttered, “I can’t believe I forgot.”

He didn’t say anything. He just remained kneeling before me, watching me in that way of his.

My stomach flipped under his gaze.

I don’t like him, I lied to myself as his stare pierced through me.

I couldn’t withstand his gaze any longer. “I can’t believe you’re a part of that trash,” I muttered, curling my lip in disgust.

“Trash?”

“Yes. Trash. Any podcast that thrives on the objectification of women is trash. Any man who goes on air and promotes the objectification of women is trash. And the fact that you’re on it says a lot about you.”

“The show is a stepping stone and I’ll admit, it’s a little crass, but I wouldn’t call it trash. And I don’t objectify women.” He paused. “Why would you think that?”

I sat back against the bench and maintained eye contact. Remembering the exact words I used from their podcast in my article for the Times, I cleared my throat. “‘All women who wear lowcut shirts are doing it so that we can check out the fun bags.’ And that’s a direct quote.”

“Oh… I know what you’re talking about.” He shook his head. “That’s not a direct quote from me. But I do know what you’re talking about and I’m not going to defend it. He was out of line. But not all the shows are like that. Live shows can go wrong quickly, but he understands that he can’t say that anymore.”

“You and your friends promoted the objectification of women.” I made a face. “Obviously the show has been doling out problematic advice for a while now. And if that wasn’t bad enough, his wack ass called breasts fun bags. He’s obviously trash.”

He stared into my eyes. “I don’t know what Bryant was thinking. He was out of line. He was—wait… is that why you ran out of class like that?”

I didn’t say anything.

“Do you think I objectify women? Did you think it was me who said that?”

I shrugged. “I know that it came from a show you’re on, so even if you didn’t say it, you support it.”

“No.” He stood. “You’re not going to lump me in a…”

Holy shit.

I was eye level with the most impressive dick print I’d ever seen in my life.

My heart thumped against my chest with reckless abandon and my face felt flushed. A desire deep within my core stirred dangerously as I saw the outline of his dick against his grey sweatpants.

As Carlos lectured me, my eyes darted around the park. I looked everywhere but at him. I was embarrassed that I noticed it. I was embarrassed that my body noticed it. I was embarrassed that he would figure out that I noticed it. Focusing on the beautiful building in front of me, the lush green of the park, or the random joggers jogging, I ignored Carlos Richmond with everything I had in me.

“…Are you even listening to me?” Carlos barked, jolting my thoughts back to his words and my eyes back to his. “You’re looking all around and—you know what? Think what you want, Akila.” He stormed off.

My words were lodged in my throat and I couldn’t speak. My mouth opened and closed as he walked away from me without another word.

Turning on the bench, I watched his back as he retreated. He didn’t look back at me once, not even when his friend pointed at me and said something. He just continued walking until he disappeared around a large decorative fountain.

When I was no longer able to see him, air rushed from my lungs, and I struggled to catch my breath. Swallowing hard, I quickly gathered my belongings. I rose to my feet and felt unsteady. Discombobulated, I tried to shake off what I’d seen and what I’d felt.

“I need to get it together,” I muttered under my breath as I started walking toward the Empire Building. “I have an interview to prepare for.”

It wasn’t like I’d never seen a dick before. I didn’t understand why I was reacting as if it was the first time. My throat felt like it had closed. My heart raced and my skin tingled. But even more concerning, my brain seemed to have misfired as well. I wasn’t able to speak, and I couldn’t remember hearing a word Carlos said.

My phone vibrated.

“Oh my god,” I whispered even though no one was around to hear me. “Meghan, can you hear me?”

She paused. “Are you at the library?”

“No, I—”

“Then why are you whispering? I can barely hear you!”

“Hold on.” Looking around, I took off running in the direction of my car and didn’t stop until I was safely inside with the car started. Breathing heavily, I put the phone against my ear again. “Hello?”

“Hey…?” Meghan stretched the word out into a question. “Is everything okay?”

“No, I don’t—I don’t know. Um…” I let my head fall against the headrest and closed my eyes. “Shit…shit shit shit shit shit.”

“What’s going on? Breathe!”

I sucked in a huge breath and then let it out as gently as I could. Even though my panting had started to subside, my heart was still racing. “Carlos,” I huffed.

“Carlos from your photography class?”

“Yeah.” I put my free hand over my heart until it calmed down.

“So…? What happened? Did you see him? Did you talk to him?”

“Yeah.” I swallowed hard. “I told him that his show and his friends were trash. I think he probably assumed I thought he was trash too because of the company he keeps.”

“Oh wow!” A shocked laugh echoed on the other end of the line. “I can’t believe you said that.”

“Why not? You would’ve said it, too!”

“Yeah, but if I’m forced to work with him for the rest of the semester, I would’ve waited until the last assignment was turned in.” She laughed. “You’re still partnered with him and you called him trash.”

I groaned. She was right.

“Well, shit.” I sighed, realizing how easily he got under my skin. I wasn’t usually reckless, but Carlos just brought something out of me.

“Yeah…” Meghan stretched the word out in agreement. “You need to be able to get along with the man if you’re stuck with him for the next few weeks.”

“I know. I just got so irritated.”

“Where are you? Did you decide to go to the University instead of the park to prepare for your interview?”

“No! He was here! At the park!”

“Really? Wow, small world.”

“Well see, that’s the thing…” I started, my mind drifted to thoughts of him in those sweatpants. “There was nothing small about it.”

“What?”

My eyes widened. Did I say that out loud?

“What?” I responded quickly.

She laughed. “Are you okay?”

I shook my head and groaned again. “No, I’m not. I’m sorry. What did you say?”

“I said it was a small world,” she repeated slowly.

“Oh yeah, it is. And come to find out, Date Night records at the Empire Building.”

“What?”

“Yeah. So not only do I have to see him in photography class, if I get this job, I might see him in the lobby or in the park.”

“When you get the job.”

I smiled at her correction. “When I get the job, I’ll run the risk of seeing him, and I just need to minimize my contact with him.”

Meghan laughed.

“What is so funny?” I huffed indignantly.

“I’m sorry, but this man has gotten under your skin and I’ve never seen you like this before.”

“I’ve never seen you like this before,” I mocked her, imitating her voice and making her laugh harder. I tried not to smile. “I can’t stand you right now.”

“He is in your head.”

“No, he’s not!”

“Akila! You like him.”

“Meghan, I hate him,” I argued, sounding like a child.

“No, you don’t,” she laughed heartily.

Whining, I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to block out the image of his gorgeous face, his muscular body, and his impressive dick print. “No, I don’t hate him, but I want to.”

“Awww… I know you do.” Her tone was pacifying, yet amused. “Poor thing.”

“Why did he have to be…?”

“Charming? Intelligent? Educated? Handsome?” she offered, filling in the blank.

“…part of The Lost Boys!”

“His one fatal flaw.”

“That we know of.”

“You’re right. Because he could have a weak sex game or a small dick.”

My mouth became dry as the thought of sex with Carlos caught me off guard. I licked my lips and muttered to myself, “It’s definitely not that.”

“What?” Meghan squealed. “What was that?”

“Uhh…” I stalled, not sure what to say without losing my ground.

“Did you have sex with him and forget to tell me?”

“No, of course not.”

“Then when, where, and how did you see his dick?”

And as if the words couldn’t wait to escape my mouth, I blurted out everything that happened. When I was done, I took a breath. “They say the devil comes to you as everything you want, and lo and behold.” I paused, staring in the direction that he’d left. “How dare he?”

“Yeah,” Meghan agreed. “How dare he be everything you ever said you wanted in a man?”

“Except for the fact that he is one of The Lost Boys.”

“Sounds like he is the full package,” she deadpanned.

My jaw dropped, and the giggle rolled out. “What is wrong with you?”

“Did you hear what I did there?”

I tried not to laugh along with her as I shook my head. “You are the worst friend and comic in the world.”

“Oh, come on! It was funny!”

“Was it?” I asked with a chuckle.

“Whatever. It was hilarious! Anyway, you have a big day ahead of you tomorrow. This opportunity is a long time coming. You have to make a good impression.”

Every time she emphasized a word, I laughed harder.

Wiping the tear that had formed in the corner of my eye from laughing so hard, I sighed. Letting my giggles completely subside, I took another deep breath. “Thank you.”

“Feel better?”

I smiled. “I do.”

“Good. Unexpected big dicks are a pleasant surprise, but put Big Dick Carlos out of your head and finish getting ready for your interview. We have a job to secure.”

Laughing, I said goodbye and we got off the phone.

Rolling my shoulders back, I drove out of my parking space. I knew I had to deal with one thing at a time, so I blocked out everything except for the fact that I was meeting Luna Daniels in the morning and I needed to be prepared.

“Goodbye, Re-Mix. See you tomorrow,” I whispered after another deep breath.

I got this. I can do all things.

Sixteen hours later, I was in the same parking spot outside of the Empire Building. Wearing black pants, a sheer black shirt, and a red and black blazer, I felt sexy and powerful as I strolled into the building. I made a beeline for the elevator and blocked out thoughts of Carlos and The Lost Boys as I heard voices, music, and other noises behind the closed doors I passed. I didn’t even want to look around. I had to stay focused. I knew if I saw the studio—or Carlos—I wouldn’t be at the top of my game, so I kept my head up, my eyes trained on the elevator, and my heart steady.

I got this.

I let out a deep, calming breath as I hit the button for the second floor.

I can do this.

I stared at my reflection in the chrome doors of the elevator as I rode to my interview. Repeating my mantra silently, I squared my shoulders and I slipped into a power pose. I looked strong. I felt strong. I was ready.

I can do all things.

I exited the elevator car with a purpose. My red pumps clicked the marble tile floor as I approached the circular desk.

Smiling warmly at the adorable, grey-haired woman, I calmed my nerves. “Hi, I’m here for an interview with Luna Daniels.”

“Your name please?” she asked.

“Akila Bishara,” I announced with more confidence than I truly felt.

With a smile, she nodded. “Have a seat. She’ll be right with you.”

Five minutes later, a fashionable dark-haired beauty emerged from down the hall.

“Good morning, Ms. Bishara. I’m Luna Daniels,” she greeted me with a smile and an extended hand.

Rising to my feet, I took her hand and shook it confidently. “Hi, Ms. Daniels.”

“Call me Luna.” She gestured for me to walk beside her and I fell in line.

“Oh, okay…Luna.” I smiled to keep myself from freaking out. “Thank you for meeting with me.”

Our heels clicked in unison as we walked down the hallway to an office at the far end of the hall. Once we were in her office and seated at opposite sides of her desk, Luna reclined back in her chair. We sat in silence for the longest minute of my life.

“I won’t take much of your time. You already went through the long interview, so this is more informal. I just want to talk, get to know you, and see how you fit with the vision I have for my magazine. So, tell me a little about you.”

I told her about graduating summa cum laude from Hamilton University with a double major in Creative Writing and Journalism. I told her how I aspired to write in a way that moved people and made them think. I told her that she was a personal hero of mine and that I’d been reading Re-Mix since it published. I even told her that I was so dedicated to my writing career that I took a photography seminar in order to take my own photos to accompany my writing.

She nodded along with me. She smiled and laughed when appropriate. She seemed impressed and commented on the information I was telling her. It felt more like a conversation than an interview and at some point during the dialogue, I no longer felt like I was talking to Luna Daniels, powerhouse, boss, CEO. I felt like I was talking to Luna, my friend.

Until she moved papers in front of her and gave me a serious look.

My heart sank instantly.

“I knew you were a good candidate,” she started. “That’s what makes this hard.” She shook her head slowly as she picked up a pen and tapped it against her papers. “I want you to know that I kept going back and forth with my decision.”

I swallowed hard and fought back the tears that pricked my eyes.

Oh…

Preparing myself for the worst, I exhaled slowly and watched her face. The silence that hung in the air felt like my future dangling on by a thread. It was in that moment that I realized how much I wanted that job and how much the opportunity meant to me. I knew I would do almost anything to get it.

“First, let me say…” Luna broke the silence slowly, drawing out the suspense. “Your stuff is really good. I loved it!”

Unable to contain the grin that eased onto my face, I took a second to bask in her praise. “Thank you.” The words came out in a rush. “Thank you so much.”

“I was going over the notes for your proposal ideas, and I love them both so much. But as I was reviewing this”—she handed me a copy of my article that ran in the Lifestyle section of the Richland Times— “something really stuck out to me.”

I glanced at the article and then back at Luna, trying to play it cool. “Oh?”

“This is the direction I want for the series.” She pointed her sharp nail at the printed article. “The passion, the wit, the personal touches. This is just what the magazine is looking for in a series writer. For our magazine, a series writer isn’t just a columnist, but a storyteller. A conveying of information that is personal and relatable. And what you did here is compelling.”

“Wow, thank you so much.” My cheeks burned with happiness as I listened to her praise.

“This right here is a perfect introduction to a new series writer. This could be the hook that draws people in—not just for the series, but for you as a regular…”

As I watched her mouth moving, I felt like I was going to burst with excitement. My breathing became slightly erratic as I tried to contain my joy. My muscles were tense as I held everything in that was screaming to leap out of me. It sounded like she was saying what I thought she was saying, but I just needed her to say the words.

“…great opportunity! So, here’s what I’m proposing for you…” She stood and walked around her desk to a large table in the corner. Grabbing a folder, she took a seat next to me. “I want to offer you the position of series writer but under one condition.”

I knew I was going to say yes, but to not sound desperate, I asked, “What’s the condition?”

“I want to pair you with the other candidate. I want to put you both in situations and get both of you to write your unique perspectives for the series.”

My eyebrows lifted as I waited for the rest of what she was going to say. “That’s it?” I asked slowly.

Luna laughed. “Yes. That’s it.”

“Oh!” I laughed along with her. “I was just expecting your condition to be along the lines of ‘work for free’ or something else devastating like that.”

She shook her head. “No, no, nothing like that. This is a job, the salary you discussed during the first interview is still valid. I didn’t turn this into an internship position.” She chuckled to herself. “I just know the job description indicated that the position would be for a series writer. But I think the collaboration of two different perspectives will be a better fit for my vision. So, while I believe you are talented, this is the direction I want to take my series, so you agreeing to work as a team on this series is contingent on it.”

Nodding profusely, I exclaimed, “Yes, I’ll do it! Of course, I’ll do it!”

“Great!” Luna handed me the folder.

“I met with the other candidate this morning just before you arrived, and they should be finishing up the tour. I want you two to meet before everyone leaves.”

“Do I have to write with them or…?”

“No, not at all. You two are going to be put in the same dating environment and then write about the event based upon your particular experiences. The articles are going to run side by side, spanning two pages.”

I nodded. The idea sounded good—great even. I just couldn’t get the little thought that niggled at the back of my mind.

What does this mean for the permanent position?

I didn’t want to get ahead of myself, but I had to know.

“I’d love to meet them,” I commented, mustering up the courage to ask what I really wanted to know.

With a smile, she gestured for me to follow her to the door. “Come with me. We’ll get you two introduced and then I’ll let my team take you on the tour.”

I stood and crossed the room. “But I have a question… during the interview, I was under the impression that the position could turn into a permanent one. Because there’s two of us, is that still an option?”

Luna smirked. “You are definitely a go-getter, Akila. You remind me of myself.” Once I reached the door, a couple of feet from where she stood, she continued. “To be honest, I don’t know. We’ll have to see how the series pans out.”

I nodded. “Understood. I’m happy for the opportunity and if it turns into something permanent, I’d be ecstatic. But working on this series with Re-Mix and working under you for however long I have the opportunity, I am appreciative.”

She put her hand on my shoulder and giggled. “No need for all of that. You already got the job.”

I laughed as I followed her out the doorway. “I’m serious!”

A thin, blonde woman was easing into the room at the end of the hall. Suddenly, having a flashback to my original partner from photography class, I prayed.

Dear Lord, please let the other writer be someone I get along with. I need this job, and I need this opportunity, so please let the other writer be someone that I work well with. Please Lord. Please. Amen.

“Ann!” Luna called out to the blonde.

Ann turned around and smiled. Waiting for us at the door, she waved. “Hey, Luna!”

Once we got to her, Luna gestured to me. “Ann, this is our newest member of Re-Mix, Akila Bishara. Akila, this is Ann Carson.”

I reached out to shake the blonde’s hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Ann.”

“It’s great to meet you, too! I look forward to seeing you around the halls of Re-Mix.”

“I look forward to working with you,” I replied, relieved to meet such a warm person.

Luna beamed. “Akila will be the other series writer.”

“Oh! That’s you! That’s awesome,” Ann exclaimed with so much sincere excitement and glee that I felt my cheeks heat. “That’s such a fun idea. It’s going to bring a lot of extra traffic to the magazine.”

“I’m really looking forward to it,” I admitted. “And after meeting you, I’m even more excited to get started on our series.”

Ann’s head tilted slightly, and confusion squinted her eyes. “Oh, no. I’m Luna’s assistant. We just finished the tour and your series collaborator is in here.”

Luna giggled. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize… I apologize.” She shook her head and looked at Ann. “I told her we were going to meet her co-series writer and then I introduced her to you. That’s completely my fault.”

Pushing the door open, Luna walked in the room, followed by Ann. I pulled up the rear and as soon as I was fully in the office, I froze.

My jaw dropped as I stared.

“Akila, this is your series collaborator … Carlos.”