CLICK, CLICK, CLICK.
What the hell?
My eyes, against my better judgment, slowly opened as the morning light from a nearby window instantly blinded me.
Didn’t I pull the blackout shades down before I went to bed?
As my vision adjusted, I took a look around, as the night before came back with a vengeance.
Right…
A bottle of tequila, a game of strip poker, and…the rest of the night was a little hazy. But at least I knew where I was now. It had been a while since I’d woken up in a stranger’s apartment with little memory of how I’d gotten there, and I was thankful I’d at least grown up a little since college.
“Kim, what are you doing up?” I called out, digging my head back under the covers.
“Answering a few emails. Go back to bed. It’s early,” she answered back.
Kim and I had been dating casually for a few months. But, with our equally busy schedules, those months equated to about three dates and a few overnight visits.
Remembering our wild evening the night before, I smiled.
It was enough.
Neither of us was looking for anything permanent. We were both career-driven New Yorkers, but it was nice to have some companionship on the nights I found myself needing a little.
And Kim was always happy to oblige.
She was an editor for a large publishing company in the city while I was killing it as a journalist for one of the top newspapers in the country.
I’d kissed so many asses and networked for so long, and it’d finally paid off.
I had my own column. In print.
All over the world, people sat around, debating my words. Being one of the most talked about opinion columnists wasn’t my ultimate goal in life, but it sure made me newsworthy.
I pushed boundaries with my topics.
I turned heads with my thoughts and opinions.
So much so that, in some parts of the country, I was actually considered a villain.
A menace.
It was fantastic. I loved my life.
Deciding to go ahead and get the day started, I made my way to the small bathroom next to Kim’s room. After a quick brush of my teeth, I headed back into the bedroom, intent on finding my clothes.
Instead, I found Kim back in bed, wearing my shirt, nibbling on a pencil, as she stared at her laptop screen. It wasn’t a bad look. Not bad at all.
“Bringing work to bed now, I see.” I grinned, jumping back into bed next to her.
She turned, placing a quick kiss on my shoulder, before returning to the document she was reading. “Sorry, Killian. It’s this manuscript I’m trying to acquire. My boss wants me to close the deal on it ASAP, and the agent is playing hardball because there’s another offer.”
“Drama in the literary world, huh? Who is it?” I asked, somewhat intrigued. I was a bit of a reader myself, so hearing of upcoming works was kind of a thrilling bonus to being with Kim.
That, and all the sex.
“It’s a debut,” she replied. “Can you believe it? Usually, it’s the agent begging us to take it. Not the other way around.”
“And you’re offering that?” I asked, pointing to the large sum of money I saw noted in her email.
“Crazy, right? But it’s actually really good. It’s like The Girl on the Train meets Fifty Shades of Grey. Super sexy with all these insane twists and turns.”
“Can I read it?” I asked, reaching for her laptop.
She laughed and pulled away. “I shouldn’t even be sitting anywhere near you. The agent has made it crystal clear that, as part of the deal, the author is to remain completely anonymous. If it gets out who she is, my ass is toast.”
“Why so secretive? What does she have to hide? Is she a nun or something?”
Kim shrugged. “I have no idea. Part of me wondered if she was an established author writing under a pen name, but after reading this, I doubt it. It’s so original and unlike anything I’ve ever read.”
“Sounds interesting,” I said, looking at the screen as she hit the minimize button to keep my prying eyes from discovering more.
“You know what else is interesting?” she said playfully, placing the laptop on the nightstand.
“What?” I grinned.
“This.” Her finger touched the hem of my shirt that looked so much better on her than me.
I watched in complete fascination as she drew up the fabric, inch by inch, until nothing but her naked skin was left. I forgot all about secret manuscripts and instead focused on what was right in front of me.
Pure satisfaction.
After a few more quick rolls in the sack with Kim that morning, I managed to make it into work just in the nick of time. Walking into the bustling newsroom I worked for was always exhilarating. It was never quiet here. Fingers were flying over keyboards, and people were shouting across cubicles as news was being made all over the place.
My first position out of college was working for a small publication online. After a few years of grunt work, I’d managed to get noticed by someone in the big leagues. I’d thought I’d finally made it.
But nothing in this industry was ever that easy.
Several more years after that, I’d worked my way from the very bottom to where I finally was. And only by sheer luck was I doing something worth recognition.
My column was supposed to be fluff. A nod to my dedication to the paper.
But I’d never been one to settle.
So, I switched things up, writing about topics that ruffled people’s feathers and got me noticed. It might not all be exactly my honest opinion, but it worked.
Online and in print, my column was well-known.
And so was I.
In a city where everyone was dying to become someone, how did you set yourself apart? This was the question I’d been trying to answer for the better part of my career. And, so far, I’d done just that.
Feeling refreshed from my morning with Kim, I sat down in my tiny cubicle, armed with the strongest coffee I could find, and got to work.
Life was good…full of possibilities.
“Hey, Killian. Boss wants to see you in his office,” my coworker announced on his way past me, heading toward the break room.
Life was now…giving me a stomachache.
There was something about that phrase, The boss wants to see you, that could instantly turn a good mood sour.
My mind traveled back over the last twenty-four hours.
Had I done anything wrong? Missed any deadlines?
Nope. I’d been a pretty stellar employee, if I did say so myself.
Usually, if there was a question about my column, Aaron Sanders—or Boss Man, as everyone called him—would just delegate the task to someone else.
I mean, you couldn’t write stuff as radical as I did and not get complaints. But, with ratings like mine, it was all taken with a grain of salt.
As long as I was making the paper money, the Boss Man left me alone.
But, now, he suddenly had time for me.
This could be good…or really fucking bad.
As I chanted silent prayers to the heavens on my way to the back of the building, I tried to hold on to that Zen-like calm I’d arrived with this morning.
Stepping up to the door of his office, I took a deep breath.
Nothing.
I had nothing in my lungs but a bottomless pit of nerves.
Man up, dude!
The post-sex bliss I’d been riding was gone like a puff of smoke. Peeking my head in the small window of the closed door was enough of a signal. Boss Man motioned at me with a quick wave of his hand.
Here goes nothing, I thought as I entered, feeling like a delinquent child entering the principal’s office.
“Killian Turner, always good to see you,” he said almost immediately, standing to shake my hand.
I tried to think back to the last time he’d actually seen me and couldn’t recall. But, sure, what the hell? It was a nice gesture all the same.
“Have a seat,” he offered.
I quickly took him up on it, angling back into one of the plush leather chairs in front of him. He bent forward, neatly folding his hands, as he reviewed a stack of papers.
Meanwhile, my insides slowly melted from the hellfire burning inside me.
Exactly fifty-four seconds later with a gallon of sweat lost down my back, he decided to speak, “Tricky business, journalism. We never seem to give enough, you know?”
I nodded, like I understood where he was going…even though I had no fucking clue.
He went on, “I’ve never been married. Not once. No kids, not even a dog.”
I wasn’t sure how to respond to that.
Sorry about that.
Do you want a ride to the animal shelter?
But, luckily, the rambling continued, “This job takes a lot of you. It’s been my family, lover, and religion for longer than I can remember. Do you have a wife, Killian?”
“Uh, no, sir,” I answered, wondering if he was about to give me dating advice.
He nodded, as if my response didn’t surprise him. “I see so much of me in you. That drive. That unrelenting need to be heard. You could have been great.”
“Could have?”
For the first time, I saw sadness in his stone-cold eyes.
“I’ve given you freedom in what you do, most of the time ignoring the chatter that came in.”
“Yes, and I appreciate it,” I said.
He took a deep breath. “Your last article, Killian, it went too far. I can’t cover your ass anymore.”
My mouth fell open. “Come on, it was a harmless opinion piece.”
His eyes widened. “You basically called the female gender stupid and petty.”
Yeah, I kind of had done that.
“Oh come on. I don’t really feel that way.”
He shrugged. “It doesn’t matter what I think, Killian. What matters is what the people who read our paper think, and right now, they hate you. Especially the women. They’re calling for your head.”
“So, I’ll issue an apology.”
But I could see the answer in his eyes.
“You know that won’t fix it. What will that mean for your column?” he asked. “If the man who is known for defending his beliefs and opinions, no matter what, goes on record and claims it was all a harmless joke? That he didn’t really mean it? None of it was true? No one will ever take you seriously again. You’re done, Turner.”
My stomach felt like it was going to heave.
“So, this is it?”
“I’m afraid so, son.”
“Don’t call me son,” I sneered.
My heart had stopped functioning sometime around the middle of his speech. My eyes began to blur.
“We’ll give you some severance; it’s more than most would do. Take some time, and figure out your next step.”
“My next step, Aaron? You and I both know there’s nothing after this. No one will touch me with a ten-foot pole!”
“Then, maybe it’s time to do something else,” he said softly. “Go find a nice girl. Settle down. Adopt a dog. Hell, go on a vacation. I’ve heard that’s what normal people do.”
On the walk back to my desk, I could barely remember exiting his office.
The rest of the day was a blur of exit interviews and paperwork. A small file box was thrust in my face, and soon, I was headed down the elevator with the last few years of my life shoved into a tiny, stupid box.
What the hell just happened?
“Tough break,” someone said to me as the doors parted on the first floor.
I looked up to see a man I didn’t recognize.
“Fired?” he asked, giving me sad eyes.
I simply nodded.
Because it was then when it finally sank in.
I’d been fired.
As of that moment, I was nothing.
Not a journalist or a writer.
Nothing.
What the fuck would I do now?
What I had assumed was a full day had in fact only been a handful of hours.
They hadn’t even let me finish out the day before giving me the boot.
For the next several hours, I found comfort at a bar down the street from work.
Correction—my old work. No, wait, my former employer. That was the proper way to say it. But, after a few shots of whiskey, I really didn’t give two fucks about grammar or formalities.
Or anything for that matter.
The bartender was kind, listening to me prattle on and on about untrusting bastards and my sudden fall from grace. He assured me I’d get back on my feet, one way or another, and maybe he was right.
Of course, he was a bartender, so what did he know about journalism?
Not a damn thing.
But, apparently, neither did I.
Aimlessly walking around through the city with my pitiful box, I found myself back at Kim’s apartment.
Maybe Boss Man Aaron Sanders was right. Maybe I should find a nice girl.
As I stepped into the elevator, squinting to see the dimly lit buttons, I smiled at the thought.
Hell, I had one right upstairs.
What if my casual fling with Kim was meant to be more, and she was exactly what I needed in this chaotic world?
The elevator dinged, announcing my arrival, and I took a shaky step forward, the alcohol I’d consumed making every motion take a bit more effort.
I headed toward her apartment, feeling determined now. I knew exactly where she hid the extra key, and I intended to use it. I wasn’t sure that I was supposed to know about it, but I’d caught her putting it back in its place after she’d forgotten her keys one night we were out.
For what I had planned, I figured she wouldn’t mind.
Kim often worked from home when she was busy with a manuscript. She’d told me the quiet atmosphere helped her fully absorb what she was reading and considering. From what she’d told me about the deal she was currently working on, I knew for certain that she’d still be in bed, probably wearing very little, as she chewed on the end of her pencil.
Yeah, I could definitely see a future with that piece of ass. I grew more certain of that with every step.
That, or the alcohol was making decisions for me.
I wasn’t quite sure.
But I was going in anyway, and we could sort out the details later.
I tiptoed through the apartment, dropping my box of useless junk at the door until I came to the hallway. There, on the floor, was a string of scattered clothes. I recognized the pair of sexy pink shorts from the morning, remembering Kim throwing them on as I’d left.
What I didn’t recognize were the dark pants.
The pair of men’s pants.
Stepping closer toward the bedroom, I found a matching pink shirt and bra and a man’s shirt.
What the fucking hell?
My feet barely made a sound as my ears protested the noises I heard coming from behind the closed door.
“You like that, don’t you, Kim?” a male voice said.
“Yes!” Kim cried out.
My fists clenched at my sides. I wanted to kill the faceless guy who was with her. Actually, I kind of wanted to give both of them a piece of my mind.
“Tell me how much you love it! Tell me—”
When I forced the door open, I hated the scene in front of me. Kim was splayed out beneath some douche of a guy. With a look of shock on her face, she instantly went to cover herself.
“What the hell, man?” the naked guy hollered.
I tried my best to ignore him, but he reminded me of one of those models on a spray-tan commercial. Too buff, too orange, and not much going on upstairs.
“You mind covering your dick?” I said, throwing him a piece of clothing I’d picked up off the floor.
“You mind explaining who the hell you are?”
“You first,” I replied, folding my arms across my chest.
The guy might be big enough to eat me for breakfast, but considering the shit-tacular day I’d been served, I was willing to take him on.
“Who is this guy?” the meathead asked Kim, turning to her for answers.
“Um,” was all she could manage to say.
All I could do was laugh. It came out of nowhere, and when it started, I couldn’t stop. I doubled over, laughing like a fucking lunatic, right there in the middle of her bedroom, while Mr. Roid Rage and the girl my drunk ass had thought was something special stared at me like I’d lost my mind.
Hell, maybe I had.
“Are you okay, Killian?” Kim asked, genuine concern written across her face.
I held a hand up as tears rolled down my face from the sheer force of my laughter. “I’m good. Really. You two carry on. I didn’t mean to interrupt. I don’t even know why I was angry to begin with. You and me”—my hand gestured between Kim and me—“we’re not even exclusive. We’ve only been seeing each other for a few weeks, so I don’t know why I expected anything more. I mean, I did just leave your apartment, like, a handful of hours ago, and he’s probably fucking you right on the same cum spot I made this morning. But who cares? Seriously, no big deal.”
They both looked at me, mouths gaped wide open.
“You two kiddos have fun. Oh, and—” I turned to the dude still holding a pink T-shirt over his dick. “Sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”
“Vincent.”
I nodded my head. “Of course. Vincent. She loves it when you suck on her toes. Just a little insider tip from me to you.”
I walked out, feeling better than I had in a while. As I made my way to the door, I stopped short, spotting Kim’s laptop on the kitchen counter.
There, on the side, was her flash drive. One thing I’d learned about Kim was that she was a tad neurotic. She liked to triple save everything—first, on her hard drive, then on a flash drive or two, and lastly, on the cloud. We’d had an extensive conversation over a bottle of wine one night about how ridiculous the whole process was, but right now, I was greatly appreciative of her madness.
Because I was going to take advantage of it.
Walking with purpose, I stepped right over to that laptop and grabbed the flash drive. Then, I turned back around without a second thought.
Hope you enjoy your boy toy, Kim.
Thanks for the scoop on your new author.
I might have whistled a song or two the whole way home because I had nothing to lose.
What do they say about starting from the bottom?
Oh, that’s right. There’s nowhere to go but up.
And that was exactly where I planned to go.