“Jesus, Allie, I thought we discussed never speaking about that again. This is the third time you’ve brought it up. As I’ve said a million times, you’re practically my sister, so yeah, it’s weird having to give you underwear. Not to mention, you’re half-naked, so I’m just gonna go.”
“Right.” I nod as I put the panties on the pile of clothes and shift in my seat on the bed. “Do I even want to know why you have all this stuff?”
Nate shoots me a look that lets me know I’m playing with fire. “In case of emergency,” he deadpans as he turns on his heeland shuts the door behind him. I get dressed in record time and go to call for Nate when I realize I have no makeup, but then I notice some unopened packages on the top of the dresser. Mascara, lip gloss, blush…did he seriously leave me BB cream? What kind of emergencies does this man have?
I apply it all quickly and rummage through my purse for the extra pair of glasses I always keep on me. Thankfully, I was able to get the one contact out in the shower without any issues. I put my glasses on and rush down the stairs, but just as I’m about to turn the front door handle, strong hands reach out and spin me around.
“Not so fast,” Nate chides. “You need to eat.” He hands me a banana and another bottle of water. I take them both as I grab my winter coat that’s draped over an entryway table. “Thanks,bro,” I tease, stepping into my heels and shrugging on my coat. “Coffee?”
“Bad girls don’t get coffee,” he says in a clipped tone.
I roll my eyes. “And you wonder why I keep bringing up?—”
“We’re not done talking, either,” he interrupts. I turn around and throw up my middle finger, walking backward. That’s when I realize—where am I going? My car is…not here. It’s at my house where I left it when I went out last night. I may have a gold star in self-sabotage, but I cross the line at drunk driving.
“Nate,” I whine.
He smirks from his place at the doorway, then takes his keys off a nearby hook and bends down to get his briefcase.
By the timewe get toThe Emberfield Lanternoffices, Nate has not only lectured me about responsibility and making better life choices but has also somehow convinced me to start exercising with him in the mornings as an alternative to drinking. Because waking up at the ass-crack of dawn torunis mostdefinitely going to offer the same release as drowning my sorrows in a bottle of tequila. My general rule of thumb is to not run unless I’m being chased, but Nate is relentless. At least I’m showing up for my first day of work in a Range Rover instead of my beat-up old Civic.
“Allie,” Nate says as I grasp the door handle to let myself out. “Good luck. You’re going to be great.”
“Thanks.” I look back at him before climbing out. “For everything.”
He nods and waits until I’m inside before he takes off. I’m immediately greeted by the scent that I can only describe as “newsroom.” Coffee, printer paper, and the faintest scent of drying ink. I glance up at the large clock on the wall in the center of the room. I made it here with five minutes to spare, and yet almost every desk is occupied. People are either furiously typing or hunched over the desks of coworkers chatting about drafts and mockups. Others are on phone calls, speaking in hushed tones so as not to disturb their desk neighbors. Did I get the time wrong? The paperwork Theo had sent over definitely said my contracted hours started at nine. Speaking of which, where is he? I need to get my desk assignment and figure out what exactly I’m supposed to be doing.
I turn around, and a woman with wavy reddish-brown hair carrying a giant stack of papers nearly runs into me.
“I’m so sorry.” She looks me up and down. “Can I help you?”
“Yes, I’m looking for Theo.”
Her eyes narrow and lock on my black pumps. Now it’s my turn to eye her up and down. She looks to be around my age, give or take a year. Her auburn hair is tied up in a messy bun with several loose waves coming down the front of her glittering green eyes. She’s wearing wide-leg jeans with rips in both knees and a worn T-shirt that says, “I’m not cynical. I just have better sources.”
“May I ask why you need to see Theo?” she asks, her tone now slightly accusatory.
“He hired me on Friday. I’m the new food writer. I’m just looking for my desk assignment.” I try my best to keep my tone neutral, so I don’t give her any more reason to look at me like I’m a spy sent to unravel the entire newspaper from the inside out.
“Oh.” I can tell she’s still skeptical, but her uneasiness soon gives way to realization. “Yes, of course. I’m so sorry. I sent you the new hire paperwork on Friday. It’s been a crazy forty-eight hours.” She moves all the papers she’s holding to one arm and sticks her hand out to me. “I’m Skylar, Theo’s assistant. I don’t normally look like this.” She gestures up and down her body. “I’m assuming you don’t know what happened.”
“No, I?—”
“He just got here and everyone is gathering in the conference room, Sky. You’re up,” a man with curly dirty-blonde hair says from behind her.
“Okay, I’ll be right there. Thanks, Dan,” she replies before turning back to me. “Come on. You can get caught up with everyone else.” She gestures for me to follow her, and we both walk into a large room where almost all of the people who had just been busy at work are now gathered, some with worried looks etched on their faces.
What the fuck?
Skylar nods at an empty seat at the edge of the room, and I scurry over to sit in it. She places the stack of papers she’s holding on the large table in front of her and crosses the room.
“Thank you all for coming,” she says. “I know it’s a busy morning and all of you have a lot of work to do. Deadlines, and…” She trails off. “I’m just going to cut to the chase. Unfortunately, Theo suffered a stroke over the weekend.” A collective gasp rings out around the room. “He’s alive,” she says quickly. “Shit, I should have led with that. Anyway, he was released from the hospital last night and is resting comfortably at home, but he has a long road to recovery ahead of him. His health is his number one priority at this time; therefore, he has temporarily stepped down from his position here atThe Emberfield Lantern.”
Another gasp.
“While I know this is a lot to take in. Just know that Theo cares about each and every one of you and did not take this decision lightly. He was also very adamant about who he wanted to take over his duties while he is out on sick leave. Lucky for us, we have an amazing replacement until Theo is back on his feet—someone I happen to have known since childhood. I am confident that he will runThe Lanternwith the same passion and dedication as Theo has.” Skylar looks off to the doorway and smiles. “I would like to introduce everyone to our new interim editor-in-chief, Ashton Tyler.”
No.No.
