by S. E. Lund
He ended the call and stood looking at me.
"That was the lab," I said.
"Yep. I'm going down on Tuesday afternoon for the test."
"How long will it take?"
"Two days. I guess we'll know by the end of next week, one way or the other."
I sighed. "Then we can move on."
"Yes," he said and pulled on his jacket. "Then we can move on. I have a meeting in fifteen, so I'm heading back downstairs."
"Me, too," I said. "Back to the slush pile."
I grabbed my bag and the two of us went to the elevator, and then down to our respective floors. Josh kissed me before he got off the elevator.
"Tonight, we should go out for supper. I feel like meatballs."
I smiled. "Meatballs are always good."
Then, he was gone, and I exhaled and tried to clear my mind for the rest of the afternoon. Next week couldn't come fast enough.
* * *
Sharon wanted me to start sitting in on the editorial meetings, so I could get a sense of the kind of dilemmas an editor faced. It meant I was moving up in the world and was exciting. Editors did more than just edit manuscripts. They decided on what books to buy and what books to promote and had to pitch them to the management team. I would start as an assistant editor as soon as my six month-unpaid internship finished, which would coincide with my return from our honeymoon.
The next couple of months would be me learning my new job. So far, I'd spent my time reading manuscripts that were sent to us from various agents who the company did business with on a regular basis. I also got the manuscripts that came in without an agent. They were unsolicited manuscripts. While we usually didn't buy any of those, we had to read them just in case there was a gem that we didn't want to miss. There were horror stories of manuscripts that had been rejected without being read that went on to make the publisher who did buy the book millions.
It was rare for that to happen, but Dominion Publishing, an imprint of Macintyre Publishing, didn't want to be the one who let a bestseller get away.
I'd met all the usual editors during my work at Dominion, but we had some new staff and it was my first real time sitting in an editorial meeting where actual decisions would be made. I wasn't expected to speak or present anything -- just soak up the ambience and learn the ropes.
I couldn't wait.
* * *
At three o'clock, I sat with my laptop at the back of the room, behind Sharon, and listened to the editors talk. There was some good-natured banter among the editors for the first ten minutes as they discussed the latest news in the publishing world -- what books had been a hit or miss at other publishing houses and what authors had signed big deals and what agents were hot at the moment with their fingers on the pulse of the readership.
It was all so exciting to me, because I tended to read the rejects and books that no one would want. Seeing the editors discuss big name authors with million-dollar deals made me envious and I dreamed of the day when I, too, might sign such a deal or find a book worth a million-dollar deal.
That dream was a long way off. I hadn't even finished my chick lit book yet, stuck as I was on the second plot point, so even the idea of finishing a novel was a big deal for me. I knew it would take years before I ever signed a deal, if then. But it was inspirational, listening to them discuss this or that author, this or that deal.
When the meeting was over, Krista, one of the young editorial assistants caught up with me in the hallway. In her early thirties, she was tall and gangly, reminding me of Steph a bit in her physical appearance. She wore funky dark-rimmed cat's eye glasses and had her hair back in a perky ponytail. You could have put a pink sweater on her and handed her pom poms and she'd be a perfect cheerleader type.
"So, how did you like your first real editorial meeting?"
"It was great," I said, giving her a big smile. "So exciting to sit in on an editorial meeting."
"How long have you been with Dominion again?" she asked, frowning. "Three months?"
"Four," I replied. "How about you?"
"Three years," Krista said, her eyebrows raised. "It took me three years to move from being a lowly admin assistant to Maria, the acquisitions editor, to an editorial assistant and I have an MA in English. I heard you're starting as an editorial assistant with Sharon when your internship is over. Talk about lucky."
I glanced at her because her tone sounded anything but happy for me. It sounded pissed.
I smiled, not wanting to get into a pissing match with her. "I'm really excited."
"Of course, you're also marrying the big boss, so..." Krista said, when we stopped outside my office door.
"I am," I said and didn't say anything else on the subject. "Nice to talk with you."
I went inside my office and closed the door in her face, my blood pressure up about twenty points. I stood with my back to the door for a moment and took in a deep breath, trying to calm myself.
Krista had a lot of nerve...
Of course, even I had to admit that I was getting a plum job in Dominion Publishing after only six months on the job as an intern. Was it because Sharon was going along with Josh or was it because she felt I deserved it?
I wanted the job, but I honestly didn't feel I deserved it just because I was marrying Josh...
Was it totally unfair that I was getting a paid job as an editorial assistant?
I went around and sat behind my desk, suddenly unsettled about everything. The very last thing I wanted was to get a job which I wasn't qualified to do or entitled to do. Yes, I had an undergraduate degree in English, and yes, I had worked as an editor for the school literary magazine. During my time at Dominion, I'd picked a few good manuscripts that the company ultimately bought. I had even succeeded in picking out three manuscripts that had been slipped into the slush pile as a test of my judgement.
But I had only worked as a slush reader for the past four months.
Did they promote all their interns after so short a time with equal qualifications?
Or was it nepotism?
With that question unsettled, I spent the rest of the afternoon trying to focus, but it was hard, and my mind kept coming back to Krista's expression and tone.
14
Josh
The biggest problem facing me that day was staying focused. With everything going on in my personal life -- the engagement and upcoming wedding, renovating the new apartment, and the paternity issue -- my mind kept wandering away from the matter at hand. Which, at that precise moment, was a financial forecast for the rest of the year. Not my favorite part of being CEO of MBS but one of the most important. I had to keep on top of the numbers and make sure the financials were solid. I trusted my finance team utterly so when they told me there was an issue, I knew to pay attention.
Usually.
During this meeting, my mind kept wandering to Alicia and the prospect of being a father before I'd even gotten married. If I was the father to her baby, it would mean a lifetime of responsibility and connection to her and the child that was not of my own choosing. Yes, I had slept with her several times, but I hadn't taken it beyond sex, and she didn't seem too concerned when we split. Had I been so wrong? Or was it just one of those flukes of fate where one false move, one tiny slip in concentration and boom. Your life goes in a totally different direction.
I just couldn't believe that the moment of contact Alicia and I had during sex was enough to get her pregnant. It had to be wishful thinking on her part.
I stared at the report in my hand and replayed the night I'd spent with Alicia over in my mind, focusing in on that moment when she was on top of me and I thought she would only kiss me and not try to actually ride me. When I felt her body press against the head of my dick, it felt incredible, but at the same time, alarm bells rang out in my head and I actually lifted her up and off of me, joking that she was getting carried away. I had grabbed a condom and slipped it on, and we continued where we left off. Could that tiny moment of contact hav
e been enough? If my dick entered her body, it wasn't more than an inch. That would have to be the unluckiest inch ever to have entered a woman's body if so.
No. I was certain that I wasn't the father and that Alicia was just desperate to have someone -- anyone -- on the hook to help her. How much more desirable as a baby daddy was I compared to her other prospects? She worked in the financial industry in marketing -- some low-level job -- and so she wouldn't be able to provide a really good life for the child. Someone like me would be a boon for her because I would have to ensure the child had the very best of everything in keeping with my own level of income. That could only benefit Alicia.
I noticed the room was silent and glanced up from my document, the image of Alicia pushing a stroller dissipating when I saw that everyone was looking at me expectantly.
I hadn't even heard the question.
"Sorry," I said. "I was thinking of something else. What was the question?"
Keith cleared his throat and explained what he'd been talking about and repeated the question. I made sure to keep my focus for the rest of the meeting, pushing thoughts of Alicia and the baby out of my mind at least for the rest of the meeting.
When it was over, Keith came over to me as I was gathering up my materials.
"Hey, boss, do you want to get a drink and talk about whatever you were focused on in the meeting? We haven't been out for happy hour for weeks and weeks."
I exhaled and smiled at him. “You know, I'm glad you asked. I need a drink."
"Then I'm your man. I'll even buy the first round. Meet you downstairs? We should go to McNally’s since it's so close."
"McNally’s it is."
I went back to my office and after speaking with my assistant about the next day's work schedule, I grabbed my jacket and scarf, ready to go meet Keith for a drink. Before I left, I thumbed a message to Ella to let her know I'd be out for a drink with Keith.
JOSH: Hey, there, pretty lady. Just a text to let you know that I'm going to McNally’s for a beer with Keith and some commiseration about things. See you in an hour or so.
ELLA: Hey, handsome gentleman. Back at you. Have a nice time. I'll be fixing dinner in that case. Would you prefer leftover Chinese or leftover Chinese?
JOSH: I think I'd prefer leftover Chinese, if you wouldn't mind. See you in an hour or so.
ELLA: See you. XOXO
JOSH: OXOX
I put my cell away and took the elevator to the lobby, the stress of the day already seeping out of me with each foot the elevator traveled. When the elevator doors opened and I saw the fading light of day, the streetlights already switching on, I couldn't wait to get outside and walk in the cold air. The bar was about a dozen blocks away. It would revive me after a day spent inside stuffy offices and meetings.
On the street, I saw Keith ahead of me and so I ran to catch up with him.
"Good timing," I said when I reached his side.
He reached out and patted me on the back. "What's got you so distracted? You look like a man in need of a serious drink or two. "
"I am," I said and smiled. "Lots of stuff on my plate and a few are pieces of shit."
"That's no good. We'll remedy that with beer. I found it doesn't make the pieces of shit go away, but it does make them more bearable for a couple of hours."
We entered McNally’s and the noise of the patrons and the smell of beer and food put me in a good mood already.
Keith had his coat off already and hung it on a nearby coat rack, before grabbing a bar stool. I joined him, removing my coat and then sitting on his left. Behind us, the Knicks pre-game show played on a flatscreen, the talking heads showing highlights of previous games. The bartender came over right away and took our orders.
I watched while he grabbed the beers out of a cooler and removed the lids, placing them in front of us.
Keith and I both grabbed our beers and held them up in a toast to each other.
"To dealing with shit through alcohol," he said and gave me a grin.
"To alcohol," I replied. We each took a long draw at the beer and then I exhaled and closed my eyes, enjoying both the flavor of the imported beer and the cold feel of it rolling down my throat.
"Ahh," I said and took in a deep breath. "That's better. And this," I said and took another long pull. "This is even better."
"One of those nights, is it?" Keith asked. "Trouble with the little lady?"
I shook my head. "Ella? No. Not at all. She's fantastic. She's wonderful. It's another thing."
"What thing? You can tell me."
I chewed my lip, wondering if I could tell Keith. Then I figured -- what the hell. He's my only real friend outside of my brothers.
"This girl I fucked back before I met Ella? One after Christie and I split? She got a court ordered paternity test and named me as a potential father."
"What the fuck?" Keith said, his brow furrowed. "Who is she? Do I know her?"
"You and I were out at the WS Club and we both met these two really nice-looking women. Her name is Alicia Conroy, and you were with her friend, Marcy."
"Oh, I remember that night," Keith said, his voice trailing off. "Marcy was pretty hot. Brunette with big tits. We had a few dates, but nothing came of it. That's like the worst luck in the world."
"Yeah, my thoughts exactly."
"You had unprotected sex?"
I shook my head. "I always use a condom, but Krista kinda got on top of me before I could get one on and for a brief, very brief, three or four seconds, she sat on me. I stopped her and rectified the situation, but I guess she figures it was long enough for me to be the father. Anyway, I'm going down to a lab to get tested on Tuesday. I should know one way or the other by Friday next week."
"I can see why you were distracted today during the meeting."
"Yeah, it's kind of hard to focus when you're wondering if you're going to be a daddy to some woman you barely know."
"Does Ella know?"
"Yes," I said and took another sip. "I told her right away."
"How did she take it?" Keith asked, making a face of sympathy.
"She was perfect about it. No problem on that front," I replied, feeling relieved at how she dealt with it. "But still. It's kind of sucking the joy out of our plans for our wedding on Easter Saturday."
"I guess," Keith replied and we turned around and sat staring at the flatscreen for a moment in thought. "Maybe it won't be positive, and you can just put all this behind you."
"I hope so," I said. "But it sucks the big one and not in a good way that we even have to worry about it. At least the wait will be short."
"There's that. Nothing to do but cross your fingers or pray, if you're into that kind of thing."
"I'm not really the praying type, but I'm reconsidering. If it would help, I'd be on my knees in a flash."
"Well, I'm the praying type, so I'll put in a good word for you."
I smiled. "I can use all the help I can get."
The first beer finished, we ordered a second. That one went down pretty easily and so we ordered another. I checked my cell and saw that it was already close to seven thirty.
"I have to get back," I said and took a deep pull on my beer. "My lady love is fixing up some mean leftover Chinese takeout for supper. Don't want to keep her waiting. Plus, the game starts soon."
"Say hello to her for me. I think I'll stay and finish this one, watch some of the game."
"Okay," I said and went to the coat tree to grab my coat and scarf. I put them on and went back to Keith, who had turned around on his bar stool and was watching the flatscreen behind us. "Thanks for being a sounding board for my troubles," I said and patted him on the back.
He extended his hand and we shook. "Don't mention it. I consult on all matters of the heart, big or small."
"See you tomorrow," I said.
I left the bar, walking down the street towards the building and the love of my life. I needed the crisp night air to ward off some of the alcohol and was glad to have a do
zen blocks to walk to refresh myself after two and a half beers. I could hold my alcohol with the best of them, but they had been fast, and I knew my blood levels would be close to the line, so it was a good thing I didn't take my car.
I stared up at my building and saw the lights of the penthouse were on, the glow from inside a warm yellow.
Despite the impending chance of bad news, I felt incredibly happy to have Ella waiting for me.
I took out my cell and sent off a text to Ella, so she knew I was on my way home.
JOSH: Hello, my beautiful fiancée. I'm just walking towards the building after two and a half beers with Keith, crying into my beer about my hard luck with you know what. I'll be there momentarily, craving your affection and some reheated day-old take-out fried rice and beef with broccoli.
ELLA: I'll be waiting with bated breath for your presence...
I laughed, glad to be blessed with a beautiful woman, smart, accomplished and with a great sense of humor.
When I finally arrived at the building, I said hello to the night security guard and took the elevator up to the penthouse. I was unwinding my scarf and unbuttoning my jacket when the elevator doors finally opened. There, waiting for me, was my love, dressed in nothing but a tiny frilly apron around her waist, and a smile. I went right over to her and pulled her into my arms for a kiss, squeezing one buttock when I did, enjoying the creamy smoothness of it.
"What about reheated day-old Chinese take-out?" I asked, nuzzling her neck, one hand squeezing her breast.
"It can wait," was all she said, her voice throaty. She turned around and I followed her to the bedroom, my hands grabbing her naked buttocks.
15
Ella
I stewed the rest of the week, unable to get Krista's words out of my mind. I decided to talk with Maryanne in HR and see if I could get a better idea of how people moved up in the company and what qualifications they usually had in order to be an editorial assistant. Maryanne was a middle-aged woman with perfectly styled blonde hair and rose-colored eye glass frames. Dressed smartly in a suit that seemed to be inspired by Dior, she was very professional looking.
