Romancing the News: A Lesbian Office Romance

by Violette Grey

  As I did my usual scan of the various articles in the Denver Post and the Rocky Mountain News on my cell phone as well as some smaller papers, I had the impulse to check the want-ads. Get-rich-quick schemes jumped out at me and I quickly swiped past them until one listing caught my eye. The Common Sense Libertarian, an up-and-coming political magazine, was looking for for an office assistant. It was not the ideal position—actually it was the same position I was in now. Yet, there was no way I would find a journalism job without a degree. It might be a great way to get my foot in the door in a place that offered more than the Free News did.

  When Daisy got on the bus, I told her about my find.

  "An assistant?" she said. "I thought that’s what you do now."

  "Yeah, but I’m not going anywhere at this job," I said, a frown on my face. "I have this feeling they’ll keep passing me up for any kind of promotion. There are four of us women who keep applying to that apprenticeship position I told you about, and none of us is getting in. I want to go where I might be useful and where there might be a chance for advancement."

  "But what if you're stuck being an assistant there, too?"

  I shrugged. "At least I'll be doing something different. The pay is a little better, so Brook will certainly be happy."

  Daisy's face fell and she looked down at her hands.

  "What's the matter?" I asked.

  "If you get another job, we won't be able to take the bus together," she said. "We work so close to each other, I get to see you all the time. What if you get so wrapped up in your new job in another part of the city and forget about me?"

  "Oh, Daisy, I would never forget about you," I said, giving her hug. Then I stuck out my pinky. "I pinky promise."

  Daisy looked at my finger skeptically but hooked her pinky with mine anyway. "Fine, but you better keep that promise."

  I laughed. "Don't worry, I might not even get the position anyway."

  When we arrived at work, I stopped outside the building and pulled out my cell phone.

  "I'll see you at lunch," Daisy whispered before entering the building. I just nodded.

  "Hello?" I said when the other line was picked up. I had to put a finger to my other ear and raise my voice to be heard over the noise of the traffic going by. "I'm calling about the office assistant position that was posted in the Denver Post. Is it still available?"

  "Yes, it is," the woman said. "You can fill out the online application and then attach a copy of your resume to it before submitting."

  I wrote down the web address on my hand as I balanced my bag under an arm.

  "And who will this position be with?" I asked.

  "Ms. Hendrix, our magazine’s managing editor," the women replied.

  Managing editor? That was an important position in any publication. This could just be the opportunity I needed to connect with people who were well-respected in the journalism field.

  "OK, thank you for your help," I replied before hanging up and throwing the cell phone back into my bag. I found myself walking with determination, regardless of how Jason acted when I got to the office, which, as I predicted, was the man running up to me on the verge of hysterics.

  "I need to talk to you," he said, his voice sounding as if he were on some sort of covert operation and someone was going to out him.

  I was too tired to deal with the man right now. Maybe it was fatigue that gave me courage, or maybe I had just had enough, but regardless of the reason, something inside me snapped. For the first time ever, I raised my voice to my boss. "Jason, do you have to bombard me every day before I've even sat down?” I pointed to the clock on the wall. “I'm actually early today. I don't officially start for another ten minutes, so can I please have those ten minutes just this once?"

  Jason raised his eyebrows, his eyes wide, clearly taken aback by my atypical attitude. Several other people turned, shocked looks on their faces. "OK…" he said, "but as soon as you're on the clock, come to my office."

  I sighed and sat down at my computer, typing in the web address the woman had given me. The online application looked simple enough. I would fill it out when I got home tonight after typing up a new resume. It had been ages since I had to do that, and I did not look forward to it any more than I had the last time I made one. Once I submitted everything, all that was left was playing the waiting game to see if they would call.

  At exactly nine o'clock, I steeled myself and walked to Jason's office. Now to deal with his whining. I was well-practiced at dealing out the pity and make it sound convincing.

  I hoped the new job did not have someone like Jason.

  ***

  The smell of pizza wafted through the door as I walked into the apartment. Just the thought of eating pizza again made me nauseated, but I would not say anything, as usual. It was Brook’s favorite food and we had it at least once, if not twice, a week, and always on her dinner nights. A nice salad or some steamed vegetables would have been a better dinner than the greasy mess in front of me, but I shrugged it off and ate it anyway. My stomach would not be happy with me later, but it grumbled for food, any food, so pizza is what it got.

  I was more likely to cook than Brook by far, and I did what I could to prepare something when it was my turn. But finding time to get to the grocery store and then preparing something Brook would not complain about was always a challenge. Where I was a more health-conscious person, Brook preferred fast food and whatever junk food she could find. Then again, she was the jogger so she could afford the extra calories. I hated to exercise. That did not mean I was completely out of shape, it just meant that I had to watch what I ate more closely than she.

  Our consistent eating out was probably one of the main reasons we could not keep our expenses under control. That and Brook's insistence at playing the horses. Her boss, Ingrid, had gotten her hooked on placing bets, and even though I had tried to talk to her on more than one occasion, Brook just would not listen.

  "I work hard for this money, Paul," she always said. "I deserve a little fun once in a while. At least I'm not out running around at the clubs trying to pick up other girls."

  I had to give her that. When she wasn't at work, Brook was at home on her computer watching whatever races she had placed bets on for that week or relaxing on the couch watching TV with me.

  It still did not make it any easier money-wise.

  "Well, I found a position I'm going to apply for," I said as I set the plates on the counter.

  "Oh? Does it pay more money?"

  "Yeah, but it's in Lakewood."

  "Wow, that’s pretty far south. How long will it take you on the bus from here?"

  I grabbed a slice of pizza and threw it on a plate. "I looked it up, it will take me an extra hour, but I can handle that."

  "An extra hour?" Brook asked, her jaw dropping. "Like, as in one way or both ways?"

  "One way."

  Brook shook her head angrily. "I can't believe that. You have class once a week already. Now you're saying you'll be home late every other night, too?"

  "Yes, but..."

  Brook ignored me. "So, will this job at least allow you to move up like you want to?"

  I shrugged. "I don't know for sure. It's an assistant position..."

  "An assistant? Again?" Brook was livid. "So, what you’re saying is that this will be the same position you already have and will keep you on the bus for two extra hours a day?" She dropped onto the sofa and grabbed her napkin. "I can’t believe you. You just can't make up your mind, can you?"

  Anger rushed through me like water through a hose. "Look, I'm sorry this will be a burden on you, Brook, but this is for an important political magazine. I’ll be working for the managing editor, someone who I might be able to show my abilities to and have help me work my way up. I looked at their company online and they have their own apprenticeship program, so I can apply to that, too."

  Brook sighed and dropped her pizza back onto the plate. "Honey, I'm sorry, I just want what's best for you. You know how ha
rd it is to find a job in Denver these days. What if you end up still unhappy there? Or you're doing something that degree you've been working so hard on doesn't even help you with? Yeah, then you'll be talking about looking for something else.” She placed her plate on the coffee table and moved over toward me. “And you need stability. We need stability."

  She leaned in and kissed me, and I immediately shivered inside. Brook had always had that effect on me, and whenever Brook knew she had crossed a line, she would bring it back to the carnal part of our relationship. It was like putting a coat of paint over a broken chair. It looked safe until you sat on it.

  Brook grabbed my hand. "Come on, let me make it up to you," she said, her voice soft and smooth.

  "But the pizza will get cold."

  Her smile was provocative. "That's what a microwave is for."

  I followed her into the bedroom. Whatever apprehension I had about her moods, what she could do with me in the bedroom always won out no matter how bad the argument would get.

  Chapter Three

  There was something about having a boss that rode my ass that made me not want to go straight to work. So, at least once a week I made my way to a coffee shop just down the street from my work building. Penny’s was a small mom and pop place that served the same things the big-named places did at a fraction of the cost. It had become my habit to stop in a couple days a week and grab a mocha latte and a muffin before going to the office, so on Wednesday I found myself standing in line behind several people.

  As I waited, I took a look around me. In the corner, a group of young teenage girls playing at grown-up drank cappuccinos and giggled at a pair of boys across the room. The boys glanced at the group from time to time but spent most of the time with their heads together, probably planning some devious prank on their high school English teacher or some other poor unsuspecting soul. It was how my brother spent most of his high school days, although his were spent at the arcade rather than the coffee shop.

  New-agey music played over the sound system. It was not bad, but it certainly was not my style. I preferred eighties hair bands, harder metal, and some forms of pop. Michael Jackson was a genius, Def Leopard was amazing, and Credence was groovy. But Evanescence was still my favorite band. Something about having a strong female lead was appealing, and no one could deny that Amy was hot.

  I finally made my way to the counter and ordered my usual, moving to the side to allow the next customer to move up. Several minutes later, my name was called and I grabbed my cup and muffin, thanking the young barista and heading to the condiment station.

  As I turned and my toe hit the leg of a chair, sending the muffin I was carrying precariously on top of my coffee cup flying through the air and into the lap of a dark-haired woman reading a newspaper. Her face reminded me of one of those surprised emojis with the big O-shaped mouth and wide eyes. I’m sure mine looked the same.

  “Oh, my God, I’m so sorry!” I set my coffee cup down on the ledge of a waist-high wall divider and rushed over. My hand shot forward to grab the muffin before I realized she was already reaching for it at the same time.

  “Really, I’m so sorry,” I said again. “I caught my toe on something and I was trying to carry the muffin on my cup and it just flew away from me…” I stopped talking when I saw the woman smile.

  She was gorgeous. In her late twenties or early thirties, she was tall and well-built. Her burgundy blouse complemented her brown eyes perfectly and stretched across a nice pair of breasts. But what caught my attention the most was her smile. It was easy-going and poised at the same time; she had an aura of complete balance and self-control.

  She laughed and handed me the muffin. “No, it’s OK,” she said. “It’s not the first muffin I’ve had fall in my lap.” Her eyes glinted mischievously. “Although, I have to admit it is usually mine.” She pulled her long brown tresses behind an ear.

  I could not help but laugh; she made me feel at ease immediately. I stuck out my hand. “Paulette.”

  Grabbing my hand, she replied, “Alexandra, nice to meet you.”

  “So, do you come here often?” Oh, my God, what kind of line was that? I wanted to kick myself and then hit myself in the head with a stick. And then the ramblings started. “I mean…I’ve never seen you here before. Well, it’s not like I’m in here all the time or anything, so there’s a good chance you’ve been here and I’ve never seen you.” Shut up already! It was hard to not do a facepalm on my forehead. “You know, I could have just missed you sometimes or…”

  “Would you like to join me?” she interrupted, smiling again.

  Oh, man, would I? I thought, my heart pounding like those teenage girls’ would have if one of the boys had gone over to talk to them. But then I looked at the time on my cell phone. I was going to be late if I did not leave right now. I wished I could think of a good excuse to be late. Maybe I could say my alarm did not go off. Or maybe my breakfast spilled and I had to clean it up. (That one would be almost true.) Or maybe I missed the bus. Yeah, maybe I spilled my breakfast and because of that, I missed the bus. That was a good one. But no, lying was not my forte and I knew I’d never be able to pull it off.

  “I really would love to, but I have to get to work,” I said finally.

  “Oh, OK,” she replied. She had a tiny dimple on her right cheek that was quite endearing. “Maybe I’ll see you around sometime.”

  I smiled back at her. “Yeah, maybe you will.”

  When I got to the office, I still was a little lightheaded, and as I sat down, I dropped my head in my hands.

  I should have asked her for her phone number! I thought. But then I got a text from Brook and realized how close I had come to crossing the line with another woman. Guilt ate at me all day, so I decided that I would make it up to her when I got home.

  ***

  For once I did not have an article to go over in front of me or any requests to set up interviews with people. I used my time instead to research more about the Common Sense Libertarian Magazine.

  The articles they produced were exceptional. As I scanned through them, I could not find a single one that I could have written better. Maybe I was being conceited, but I knew my abilities. And seeing this level of competence in a place I might work excited me. It meant that, if I was hired on, I would be working under some of the most capable journalists in the area.

  My cell phone vibrated and I picked it up and checked the caller ID. I did not recognize the number, but something told me that I should answer.

  "Hello? Paulette here."

  "Hello,” a woman’s voice said on the other end, “This is Joanna Hendrix from the Common Sense Libertarian. How are you today?"

  My heart began pounding in my chest. It was the managing editor herself. "Oh, hello. I'm great, thank you." Wow, she was not above making her own calls.

  "Well, glad to hear it. I received your application for administrative assistant and was wondering if you were still interested in an interview."

  "Yes, I certainly am," I said, standing and moving to the break room so no one would overhear. "When?"

  "How about tomorrow morning at eleven?"

  Jason was not going to like me asking for a morning off, but I could tell him I had a doctor’s appointment or something. Ha! Maybe I should just tell him the truth. That would serve him right! “Yes, that would be fine."

  "Then I will see you at eleven tomorrow morning. Do you know how to get to our offices?"

  "Yes, I looked it up online."

  "Very well, until tomorrow then."

  I hung up and stood staring at nothing. I could not believe it, I had an interview. And Joanna Hendrix sounded like a really nice person. I had never worked for a woman before, but it would be a nice change. The men I worked with now or in the past had never gotten handsy with me, but plenty of other assistants had had to deal with it. That was until Melissa Sanchez filed a sexual assault complaint against Pete Slopes because he tried to pull her into a broom closet and put his hands up her
shirt. He swore Melissa had led him on, but everyone knew he was a putz.

  Man, Jason is going to be pissed if I get this job, I thought, laughing.

  "Do you plan on working anytime soon?" Jason asked from behind me. I jumped and then hoped he had not overheard my conversation on the phone.

  "Yes, I just need some coffee."

  "I'll take one, too," Jason said. He never asked, he just expected me to comply.

  I sighed. I really hoped that job came through.

  Chapter Four

  "You should have spit in his coffee," Brook said when I told her what had happened with Jason and his coffee at work. Brook never seemed very interested in most things I talked about, especially work, but when it came to revenge, she was all over it. "So, you're going to go to the interview, huh?"

  "Yes," I replied. "You're not still mad I'm looking for another job so far away, are you?"

  Brook shrugged. "Well, like I said, if it brings home more money, then I guess I'm OK with it."

  "So, what do you want to do tonight?"

  Brook's eyes glazed over. I knew that look all too well. We held hands as we made our way to the bedroom.

  Once the door was closed, Brook pressed me against it, her hands moving to pull up my shirt, exposing my breasts. Her lips were on them immediately, biting and suckling the nipples and sending shivers down my body to between my legs.

  We made our way to the bed, our lips locked together, as Brook removed one piece of my clothing after another. Then she threw me on the bed and began removing her own clothes in strip-tease fashion, laughing the whole while.

  I pulled myself further onto the bed as she crawled over me on all fours. Hovering above me, she leaned in and kissed me, hard and probing, as her hand grasped my breast and kneaded it. I gasped when she tweaked a nipple and felt that heating sensation again.