Liam
How’s Iris?” I ask Jasmine, handing her an iced latte from the office building’s lobby cafe.
She looks up from the document on her computer screen outlining an article. “Iris is great. We’re going out again tonight. I do love it when you ask about my life without any ulterior motives. It makes me feel loved, cared for, and not used at all.” She swivels in her chair to face me and smirks, taking a long sip of the coffee, draining it a quarter of the way in one go. “The bribe is a nice touch, though.”
“I just haven’t heard back from Henri about the article,” I say. “And I’m worried that I messed up. The only reason she’d ignore me is that she’s mad, right?”
I’ve played back that night a thousand times, both in my head and relistening to the recording. She has a sultry scratchiness to her voice that seems to come from constant use, and I can’t get enough of it. As someone who listens to a lot of recordings, I’d like to think I know a thing or two about a good voice.
But my favorite part?
About halfway through, she changed, just relaxed. Juliet is put together with clean-cut professionalism. Henri? Oh, Henri is just a touch weird—the best type that draws you in and entices you to be yourself. Laughing and saying whatever’s on her mind. Dancing around her room barefoot in an evening gown at two in the morning.
So why haven’t I heard back from her yet? It’s been three days since the article, but a week since I sent her the pre-print.
“The article? That’s the only thing you want to talk to her about?” Jasmine cocks a brow.
“I—”
“Liam, would you come meet me in my office?” Fallon asks as she strides by us, heading toward her glass-walled office.
“What do you think that’s about?” Iris asks. “Cause the article about Henri? Whoo.” She fans herself with a copy of last month’s issue.
“I guess I’m about to find out.”
I shrug, then follow Fallon, not wanting to keep her waiting.
The response to the article has been great. It’s the most traction I’ve gotten on anything really. It feels like a punch in the gut that my career seems to be taking off just before it ends. At least I’ll have this high note to reflect back on.
I close the door behind me as I enter Fallon’s office. The space is chic with mid century modern leather furniture, warm wood finishes, and a few strategically placed plants that provide pops of color.
“Go ahead and take a seat,” Fallon says from behind her desk as she flicks open her silver laptop.
I do as she instructs. “What did you need to talk about?”
“You’re single, right?” she asks so casually that it takes me a moment to register her words.
She can’t mean . . .
“Um . . . I . . . I’m sorry, but I think I’m missing something?” I stammer.
Fallon types something quickly then lowers the screen most of the way. “Just making sure there wouldn’t be any complications for a follow-up piece. We have the opportunity to push your initial article further. Instead of just an interview about what it’s like to be a professional plus-one, why not go out with her and get the real experience. You’ve had a viral moment and we need to capitalize on it. I know I’m asking even more of you but our site traffic doubled and those numbers will really help us close the quarter on a high note and help me justify increasing our budget to the board.”
“I can reach out, but I’m not sure if I’ll be able to book something—she’s a busy person,” I rush to say. A week, that’s an appropriate amount of time for a follow-up email, right? There’s always a chance my first one got buried in her inbox.
Yeah, Liam, stay delusional. This is the girl who only invited you over because you got sexiled.
She didn’t even want to be around me when I offered to buy her food. Still . . . By the end of the night there was something between us. Time felt like it had stood still. I could have watched her try on clothes until the sun came up. I can’t make myself delete the pictures of her on my phone even though I don’t need them anymore.
I could have just read the whole thing wrong; I’m not exactly great with people. Growing up, kids my age were always my competitors and I was encouraged to never get too friendly with them. I was trained to distrust and be sceptical of people’s motives. In some ways, the mentality has helped me during interviews, allowing me to understand that people are often hiding something that’s worth finding, not to use against them as my father would urge us to do, but to understand.
But Henri, she’s a master of shapeshifting. She gave me scraps, answers that she knew I’d want to hear, but there were moments of more when she’d accidentally let something real slip out. I can’t quite nail her down, no matter how much I want to.
“Make sure she knows we’ll pay for her services. Ideally, we can do something for Christmas or New Years.” Fallon cocks her head as she weighs the possibilities. “If you can’t do it, I could see if someone else would be available.”
“No,” I say a bit too loudly, prompting Fallon to raise a brow. “I’ve got it, and she took a while to open up so I wouldn’t want anyone else to have to repeat that process now that I have a connection.”Really smooth, Liam. Not suspicious or desperate at all.
At least I now have an official excuse to send a second email, and I’ll be damned if she goes out with someone else.
