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Yet no matter what I did, I always tried to keep the work serious. I labored hard at making every article compelling, even when my stories were twisted into grotesque caricatures of their original format, or when editors were swapping my titles out for click-bait headlines that would garner more views, and thus, more advertising revenue.
But now…
Now I was near the top. Finally recognized as one of the best writers in the whole magazine, and given near free rein over what to write. The promotion came with a tiny office, a zero-percent raise, and triple the responsibility.
But it was freedom. And so I took it.
What came as a surprise however, was the latest opportunity given to me by my boss, Chloe. An assignment more important than any other article in the history of our magazine, because if we didn’t blow it, it could lead to a much more lucrative future for Mythic Daily.
And that’s because Cosmo, of all magazines, wanted to do a collab with us.
“It’s not so much of a collab,” my boss had said two weeks ago, “but more of a guest spot in an upcoming issue. One that could potentially lead to a recurring role, which would boost visibility and l
egitimize Mythic Daily in ways that no amount of bought-and-paid-for publicity ever could.”
The article I’d been tasked to write was on the nature of polyamorous relationships. Poly meaning ‘more than one’ and amory meaning ‘love’, it was about any number of couples or thruples (or foursomes or moresomes) that were, on a consistent basis, opening their committed relationships up to others.
The whole idea fascinated me, and always had. The idea that people would actually do this… that they could somehow share their partners with other people, somehow without getting jealous?
Well it pretty much just blew my mind.
And yet last night, I’d been talking with someone who actually did those things. A guy who by all accounts shouldn’t need any help getting a girlfriend, yet somehow felt the desire to share his woman with not one, but two of his closest friends.
It was enough to leave me breathless the rest of the night, especially after making a date with them. I’d spent a restless hour and half staring up at my bedroom ceiling, wondering what would happen when I met them on Friday night. Wondering what it could be like to date all three of them.
It’s just coffee, my mind told me over and over again. You’ll ask some questions. Get some great ideas for the article…
Only coffee was just for starters. Adam had told me they wanted to take me out — to dinner and beyond — as long as the four of us ‘hit it off’. I couldn’t say no. Or rather, Hannah couldn’t refuse… especially since she’d been the one who reached out to them in the first place.
So far I’d interviewed quite a few people involved in the polyamorous lifestyle. I’d met Paul, who had a wife and a girlfriend. I’d sat down with two other women who had multiple boyfriends each, and who’d even traded off from time to time.
But this situation… this was three guys willing to share one girl. Three young guys, just out of college. Friends and roommates who were looking for a very specific arrangement, at least according to the profile.
And it sounded a lot like they’d done it before.
I’d met Adam already, at least through text-messages. We’d even shared a few flirty photos before I’d drifted off to sleep. On Friday I was slated to meet Dante as well, and their other friend Trey. I had brief descriptions of each, based on their profile page and their collection of faceless — yet still smoldering — photos.
Shit, even their names were hot.
These things and more ran through my mind, as I typed up an outline of what I had so far. I needed to go deeper. I needed to get inside the heads of these guys, and find out what made each of them tick. This couldn’t be just some bubblegum article on a sexually charged topic. No, it had to be the best fucking article ever written.
“Hey baby.”
My body stiffened in my chair. The voice was like nails on a chalkboard. I knew its owner even before glancing up over my monitor, to where my smirking ex-boyfriend stood leaning in the doorway.
“Soo… What are we doing tonight?”
Three
BROOKE
Chris slithered into my little office without being invited. His body bent in a very snake-like, unnatural way, as he helped himself to one of the guest chairs.
“Same thing we do every night,” I answered, looking back at my screen. “Nothing.”
He asked the question almost daily, and always with the same smirk. My answer was always the same as well, but it never stopped him from trying.
“C’mon,” he said, shifting until he was comfortable. “There’s a new Thai place on State Street. They have the best drunken noodles.”
