by EJ Whitmer
It was nearly eight o'clock by the time I reached the twenty-eighth floor. Designers and interns were already buzzing around frantically, shouting orders across cube walls and cursing at copy machines. I utilized my wicked ninja skills to avoid several collisions on the way to my office before finally reaching Mae's desk and setting her coffee down.
Mae, whose nose was buried in her phone, muttered a quick thank you without glancing up.
I cleared my throat and nudged her coffee cup. "That's all I get? A mumbled thanks? No good morning or Tinder updates or anything?"
Mae shrugged her shoulders and glanced at me from the corner of her eye, her face still turned down. "Sorry, Anna. Good morning. And really, thank you for the coffee."
This was not my Mae. Normally she was literally buzzing with excitement in the morning. In fact, that was the first morning in months she hadn't given me a hug. Something was up.
"Mae? What's going on? Are you alright?'
She turned her body away from me slightly before giggling and waving a hand in my direction. "Everything is wonderful, dear!"
"Mae … Turn around."
Slowly, she turned and looked up at me with a sheepish expression. I scanned her outfit, looking for a coffee stain that she was embarrassed about and finding nothing. Not a hair was out of place in her perfect bob. I was about to ask what the deal was when I noticed her face - her mouth, to be more specific. Mae's entire upper lip was bright red and chapped, spreading down both sides of her mouth.
I instantly knew what the issue was. I'd dated a boy in high school who would grow a five o'clock shadow by noon. He also kissed like a big mouth bass, resulting in more than one whisker burn marring the lower half of my face.
"Oh. My. Goodness. Is that a whisker burn!?"
Mae giggled and lifted her fingers to her lip. "Duncan and I may have gotten a bit carried away at lunch yesterday. Mustaches are sexy and all, but they tend to get a bit abrasive when ground against your face."
"Holy shit, Mae! So not only did you kiss him on your first date, you made out with him?!"
Mae rolled her eyes and turned back to her desk. "Get with the times, Anna. Most people jump into bed on their first date. We just played a short game of tonsil hockey. Didn't even go all three periods." She winked at me before taking a sip of her coffee.
"Wow. Well … Good for you, I guess. Just … Be careful and all that. Maybe stick with the ten date rule before you go any further."
Mae spun around to face me. "Ten dates!? Do you know how long that could be? This bacon hasn't sizzled in ten years, girlfriend! If I find a hot skillet, I’m jumping in!"
Ew.
I didn't know how to respond to that, so I just slowly backed away toward my office.
"By the way, Carl is in your office waiting for you," Mae called over her shoulder.
I cringed and turned to look into my door. Sure enough, there was Carl, splayed out across two of my guest chairs staring at the ceiling. I took a calming breath before approaching.
"Hey, Carl. What's up?"
With an overexaggerated sigh, Carl turned to me and smiled. "I found her."
I stepped around him and sat down in my desk chair. "Who did you find?
"My mate. I found her. It was like … lightning. As soon as I saw her, I knew."
I already knew the answer, but had to ask to be sure. "Are we talking about Gia? The woman I partnered up with this morning?"
Carl gasped. "The goddess has a name! A beautiful name! Gia. Oh, Anna. My heart is singing. I've been writing haikus about her beautiful brown eyes all morning. I'm thinking about writing them on some handmade parchment and delivering them with a pair of perfect white doves."
"Well her eyes are green, so you may want to do some quick edits before presenting her with love poems."
Carl bolted out of his chair and grabbed the pile of mail he'd left on my desk. "Shit! Yes. I knew they were green. I knew that. Gotta go!"
With my two usual morning visitors taken care of, I booted up my computer and sipped my coffee. After sifting through my emails and checking my daily calendar, I noticed an unusually large pile of mail on the corner of my desk. I leafed through the stack, separating the envelopes into different categories. About a third of the way in, Eric Blake's name began showing up instead of mine. Carl must have been in such a hurry to correct his love letters that he mixed up some of the mail.
I grabbed the stack of Blake's messages and made my way to his office. I arrived to find Blake sitting at his desk, running a hand through his hair and staring blankly at the wall. I rapped my knuckles against the door frame before entering with a smile.
"Good morning!"
Blake stared at me and nodded once.
"Carl got our mail mixed up. I've got a stack here that belongs to you."
Again with the nod.
"Are you alright? What's with the nodding?"
Blake heaved a sigh and reached out to grab his mail from me. "I'm fine. Thank you for bringing my mail."
"Oookay. Are you upset with me?"
He rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to the wall. "If I was upset with you, you'd know it. Close the door on your way out."
"Alrighty then …" Jeesh. Who shit in his coffee this morning?
"Watch it." Blake snapped.
"Quit listening! You can't get pissed at my inner monologue if I don’t actually say it out loud."
"Just go," Blake murmured, pointing to the door.
I attempted to put the kabosh to my mental bitch fest and stomped back to my office. Apparently my cute outfit wasn't affecting my attitude as much as I'd hoped. Luckily, my calendar had been cleared of all meetings that day. I had completed the reviews for my staff which meant my review with Eric Blake was up next, scheduled for that afternoon. As a boss, he'd never been anything but fair. My evaluations had always been positive. Any criticism he gave was delivered in a way that helped me learn and didn't break me down. However, reviews are reviews and they always make me nervous, so I'd cleared my schedule to spend the day preparing.
Blake also has quarterly all-employee meetings in which he goes over sales and budget reports, reader feedback and announces goals for the next quarter. It's my job to compile reports that pertain to the advertising and design departments. I had already gathered the data, but I wanted to create charts and infographics to more easily explain how my departments were performing. I asked Mae to hold all non-emergency calls and buried my face in the computer.
15
By the time the noon hour hit, my neck was cramped and my eyes were beginning to cross. I had just decided to take a quick break when I heard a quick knock at my door. Lilith Hines poked her head into my office and smiled at me.
"Lunch plans?"
I smiled back and shook my head. "None so far. Want to run across the street with me to grab something quick?"
"Absolutely. Let's go. I'm famished!"
I quickly locked my computer screen and stacked my papers neatly before grabbing my purse and heading out the door.
The line at the corner deli was nearly out the door. A brisk breeze bit at the tips of my ears, making me extra glad I'd worn a sweater. March in the Midwest can vary between a tropical heat wave and a frigid tundra. Lilith and I stood just inside the doorway, enjoying the scent of freshly baked bread and cold cuts.
"So how's Carl doing?" Lilith asked, a soft smile tugging at her lips. Lilith has a soft spot for Carl. She once said he reminds her of a shaggy little terrier, annoying yet adorable.
"Carl's fine," I replied. "He's convinced that the dog that rescued him the other night was a werewolf. He's been at my condo doing research and preparing himself for the full moon. Oh, and he's convinced Emmett's interim assistant, Gia, is his one true mate. So that's fun."
"Hmm... Well, just don't let me catch him humping her leg. I'm pretty sure that's against the employee codebook."
I gaped at Lilith in horror. "The scary thing is that I honestly wouldn't be surprised if that
happened. Maybe I should get a squirt bottle to spray him when he misbehaves. He's so committed to this werewolf thing that he's even growing a ponytail."
Lilith grasped at her tummy and doubled over with laughter. "That's hysterical. Isn’t the moon going to be full on Saturday?”
“Yes. And as far as I’m concerned, it couldn’t come soon enough. I just hope that when he doesn’t shift into a mythical beast, he’ll chill out with the werewolf stuff.”
“So have you found out anything new on your invisible adversary?”
Lilith shook her head. “Peter has a list of slip rentals from some of the harbors near the last sighting. He’s going through the names and dates, then passing it along to a friend of his with access to CODIS. Who knows how long it will take to run all of the names through the system.”
“So what do you do in the meantime?”
“Well, Dom insisted that we all take some more advanced courses in self-defense and mixed martial arts. We are all pretty proficient, especially Dom, but apparently he was upset after his fight the other night.”
“I can’t imagine it would be easy to utilize any skills if you’re fighting someone you can’t see. But why didn’t any of you use your super powers?” I asked.
“We were in public, Anna. We don’t want the world to find out about us. Plus, how would I know where to send my vines out? Blake wasn’t there to read the guy’s mind, so we had no way of knowing where he was or when he would attack next.” Lilith sighed and closed her eyes. “It was a total clusterfuck.”
“Well, you’ll be better prepared next time, right?” I asked with a supportive smile.
Lilith nodded and pushed me forward in line. We finally inched our way to the deli’s counter where I ordered a chef’s salad and Lilith ordered a ham and cheese sandwich. The few tables the deli offered were all full, so we wandered outside in search of a bench. As soon as we located one and sat down, Lilith tore into her sandwich. I shuffled my salad around, more interested in people watching than consuming bunny food. I’d just lifted a fork full of lettuce to my mouth when I noticed Lilith staring at me.
“What?” I asked around a mouth full of salad.
Lilith looked down at the greenery in my salad bowl and back up at me.
“Don’t tell me you have an issue with me eating salad? It’s not like it can feel it. In fact, the bread in your sandwich comes from plants.”
Lilith shuddered and stared down at her sandwich. “I know that. It’s just different when it’s still green and in its original state.”
I took another bite of my salad. “Do I need to eat this in my office?”
She let out a nervous chuckle and took a bite of her sandwich. “No, that’s not necessary. I watch people eat salad all the time. I’m sorry I stared.”
I smiled at her and nudged her shoulder lightly before continuing with my people watching. A stubborn crouton refused to be speared by my fork, momentarily drawing my attention from our surroundings. I finally spiked the little effer, raised a fist in victory and gasped as the chunky Tom Selleck passed by.
“You!” I shouted. “You’re the naked perv from the other night!”
Tom startled to a halt and gaped at me. “I beg your pardon! I am most certainly not a naked perv!” His voice was high pitched and sounded like an absurd cross between a very fake British accent and a robot.
I tore my gaze from his eyes and took in his appearance. Thankfully, he wasn’t naked. He was dressed in light brown corduroy pants, a white button-up dress shirt, chunky Doc Martens boots, and toted a man purse containing the ugliest pug I had ever seen.
“Well, you’re not naked now … But you were definitely in the buff the other night when you dangled your penis at me!”
“Anna,” Lilith whispered. “Are you sure you’re not mistaken?”
Tom huffed and hugged his pug purse to his chest. “She is most definitely mistaken. I don’t know what you think you saw, but I can tell you it wasn’t me dangling anything at you.” He glanced down at the pug before placing chrome aviator sunglasses on his nose and sniffing down at us. “Come along, Higgins. Chicagoans are simply the worst!”
Lilith watched him strut down the street for a moment before turning to me. “Is it just me, or does he look like Tom Selleck after being stung by a couple hundred bees?”
“No, he definitely looks like him. And did you hear his dog’s name? Higgins? Like from Magnum P.I.?”
We both looked down the street and watched as the man came to stop in front of a cherry red Trans Am parked at a meter. It certainly wasn’t a Ferrari like in the television show, but it definitely came close.
“There’s no way that’s not on purpose,” murmured Lilith.
The man pulled away from the curb and drove slowly in our direction, Higgins sticking his head out the rear window to enjoy the air flow. As they reached our bench, the car slowed and the front window lowered.
“You know, toots, if you’re that interested in me being naked, give me your cell phone number and I’ll text you a picture of my Magnum P-E … N-I-S.”
Lilith and I gasped and jolted in our seats. Before I could reply, the window rolled up and the car sped away. Several quiet moments later, Lilith turned to me with a smile on her face.
“I can’t even tell you how excited I am that we’re friends. There is literally never a dull moment! Can you believe that guy!?”
I groaned and shook my head. “This isn’t normal for me, you know. I used to live a predictable, boring life, free of creepy naked guys and coworkers with bizarre super powers.”
Lilith clapped me on the back and stood. “Well, welcome to the club, girlfriend. I have a feeling the word boring will be wiped from your vocabulary pretty darn soon.”
16
By the time we returned to the building, I had a little under an hour before my review with Blake. My reports were complete; color coded, proof-read at least twenty times, a perfect mix of technical jargon and layman’s terms. A masterpiece, if I say so myself. We’d received a significant amount of positive reader feedback; a feat next to impossible when you’re publishing a men’s magazine devoted to camouflage and fishing lures. Luckily, planning VIP events with free beer, mountains of nachos and half-naked waitresses supplies plenty of motivation for filling out questionnaires. For the first time ever, my fear of reviews closely rivaled my excitement about presenting my results to Blake.
I bid Lilith farewell and headed to my office. Mae was at her desk, reapplying concealer on her top lip. I stopped by to fix a blob of makeup on her chin and turned to enter my office, stopping just before I walked face-first into the door. I didn’t remember shutting it on my way out, but several people come in to drop off memos and assignments during the day, so it wasn’t entirely abnormal. What did raise alarm flags was the state I found my office in. It looked like a mini tornado ripped through my desk. Okay, honestly, chances were good no one else would have noticed. Papers were scattered across my desk haphazardly, when I distinctly remembered straightening my piles before lunch. My pencils were standing point-up in their holder. That’s a safety hazard. And good gravy … there was a bent corner on my beautiful report.
I took a calming breath and stepped back out to Mae’s desk. “Mae, did anyone come into my office while I was gone?”
Mae clicked her compact shut and turned to me. “One of the design interns dropped off a couple ad proofs. A pretty blonde woman stopped by to pass along a budget report. Oh, and Mr. Blake said he left you a sticky note on your desk. Why?”
“Just wondering. My desk looks a little ruffled, and I just wondered who I needed to strangle.” I let out a laugh I hoped wasn’t too nervous and turned back to my office.
After inspecting the contents of my desk and returning my pencils to their correct point-down position, I felt relatively sure that nothing had been stolen. I spent the next forty-five minutes trying desperately not to read too much into the situation. It was totally rude for someone to shuffle through my papers and up
end my pencils, but it could have just been a nosy coworker. I reprinted my report on non-dented paper and focused on proof-reading it one more time.
At five to two, Emmett emailed, asking if I was free for dinner. It was his night off from scouring the city for naked supervillains. For a brief moment, my mind strayed from my work and fixated on finally getting some much needed alone time with Emmett. My thoughts swarmed with visions of running my hands over his muscular pecs and down the hard planes of his stomach. Of course, that was the exact time Eric Blake decided to barge into my office.
He took three steps in, stared at me for a moment and then gripped the sides of his head as if in pain. “Honestly, Anna!” he groaned. “Aren’t you usually pacing behind your desk, chewing your nails down to stubs before your reviews? Can you go back to doing that, please?”
