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My pencil from the kiosk was much shorter, but luckily, I thought to sharpen it at work before I left for the day. Otherwise, I'd have to use the dictation app on my cell and I could never get the hang of it.
Tempt Me
The man in the grey flannel suit was not my Mr. Big but he was a pretty damn good substitute...
I sat at my kitchen table and tried to think of a scenario that excited me, and one that would excite my readers. Maybe, an agreement to have sex in the middle of the day, at a ritzy hotel, no words spoken, just get a key, take the elevator up, and go meet a man for sex. Someone you didn't know but who had been vetted by a group you belonged to -- a sex club for people who had needs but those didn't include romance or marriage.
Kind of the way both Josh and I felt after our own heartbreaking bad engagements.
I wrote my story, using Josh as my hero and myself as the heroine -- if you could call my two characters by those titles. I decided on the Ritz-Carlton Hotel across from Central Park. It would fulfil my fantasy of meeting a hot rich man there and having wild sex.
At my usual pace of four pages an hour, it took me about five hours to get the first part of the story done. When I was finished for the night, I closed my notebook and put my pencil away, then had a lukewarm shower, and went to bed with B.O.B.
Just another ordinary but sad night in my otherwise exciting new life in Manhattan.
The next morning, I rushed to work, having slept in past my alarm. I almost didn't make it, but was glad that I was able to slip into my office without running into Sharon, who was in an early meeting. I sat at my desk and pulled the box of manuscripts closer and fished out the first one, opening my notebook and taking out my pencil.
It was then I realized I forgot to remove the story out of the notebook and leave it at home. I pulled out each page and stuffed them into a file on my desk, then I spent the first part of the morning reading manuscripts and queries from various authors, reading the first five pages of book after book, deciding whether to read on later or pass. Sharon didn't want me to read past the first five or six pages, arguing that I would know whether a story gripped me in that short time. It made me feel bad for all the authors who put so much care and attention to their beloved manuscripts, only to have me reject it after the first five or ten pages, but that's what Sharon wanted. Unsolicited manuscripts were rarely accepted by the publisher. Most of the books published came via an agent or one of the editors already working in the publishing house.
By the time my ten thirty rolled around, I was ready for a break, my eyes watery after reading page after page, scratching down notes in my notebook about the ones I liked. There were a couple, and I felt they needed to be read fully, but I'd consult with Sharon first.
It was time for me to go and get my new laptop and cell from the local electronics store, so I grabbed my coat and bag and told Samantha at the front reception that I'd be gone for half an hour but would take a shorter lunch break.
"Going to get my new cell," I said as I pushed the elevator button.
"Have a good one."
I went down the elevator to the main floor and out into the glorious autumn day in Manhattan. Around me were the sounds of the street -- pedestrians walking, talking and horns blaring in the busy traffic, which always seemed to be clogged up. In the distance, a siren wailed. I glanced around and was glad to be so lucky to be here.
I made my way to the electronics shop and picked up my new iPhone 8 Plus, and after getting it activated and my data transferred, I picked up an iPad with a detachable keyboard. It was a lot cheaper than an actual laptop. After I was finished, I grabbed a coffee and went back to the office. I had a meeting with Sharon and so I had to rush the last few blocks so I wouldn't be late.
When I arrived in my office, Sharon popped her head in.
"Meet me in the boardroom. Bring your stuff and we can talk about what you've found for me."
"I will," I said and gave her a smile, trying not to appear too flustered. I sat behind my desk and exhaled, excited to meet with her and talk about the manuscripts. I gathered up the pile that I'd marked "Further Consideration" and grabbed my notebook, because I hadn't had the time to set up my new iPad, which would take maybe fifteen or twenty minutes. It was then that I noticed my red file with the erotic story I'd removed from my notebook was missing. I checked under the box, and under a pile of rejected manuscripts, but it wasn't there.
Where the hell was it?
It was a red file and I remembered putting it off to the side of my desk, away from the manuscripts so they wouldn't get mixed up.
Crap!
I checked under the desk on the off chance that I'd knocked it off and didn't notice, but the floor was bare. Nothing.
I went out of the office to the reception area.
"Have you seen a red file folder anywhere? I can't find it. It was on my desk when I left for my meeting with Sharon and now it's gone."
Theresa shook her head. "No, I haven't but Mr. Macintyre popped in when you were out, looking for you. I asked if he wanted me to let you know he'd been by, but he said no. He'd call you later."
"He was in my office?" I asked, a sinking feeling inside.
"Yes, he just popped in for a moment."
I swallowed hard. "Did he have a red file folder with him when he left?"
She shrugged and made a face. "Not that I remember, but he did have a bunch of files with him when he stopped by."
