AllFreeNovel
Share Us
The guys dozed off at a decent hour. I tried to, too, I really did, but when two a.m. rolled around and I was still wide awake, I slipped out of bed and retreated to my green chair, which had been returned to its place by the front window. I watched the nighttime pulse of the city unfold, where shift workers returned home, deliveries were made, and garbage was collected—the hidden activities that ensure the city operates at peak capacity during the day.
Hours later when the sun was coming up and the streetlamps switched off, and I was still sitting in the front window, I wanted so badly to log into Glisten’s website to see what readers were saying about my column. But I was petrified. People are mean on the internet, that’s nothing new, but I knew I was in for a skewering for the offense of misleading my readers. I could only imagine the stuff they’d say about me in their version of a modern-day witch hunt, where I’d be verbally drawn and quartered. Maybe when Glenda sees it, she’ll agree my days at Glisten have finally, unceremoniously, come to a painful end.
Cue the bankers’ boxes and security guard escorts.
She won’t want to do this, but will be forced to react to reader expectations. If the people want me out, then I am out.
I don’t blame them.
I wish I could ask them to have mercy on my soul.
But it’s too late for that. My story is live on the interwebs, most likely being devoured by subscribers in the Eastern time zone, soon to be followed by those in Central, Mountain, and Pacific as they wake up and start their day, not to mention whenever our international readers receive their copies.
I want to tell them to be kind. That it’s the fear of coming forward with a problem like mine that kept me from being honest about myself.
Just like it is for so many other women.
But I know I’ll have to face the barrage of comments on my column when I arrive at work so for now, I’m just not looking. It’s torture, for sure, but the torture will be so much worse when readers realized how I’ve betrayed Glisten fans around the world.
I lay down on the living room sofa, hoping for a few minutes’ sleep, when a hand gently shakes me.
“Oh my god,” I say, bolting up and looking around. “I dozed off.”
Jasper laughs. “It’s okay, you’re not late yet. Get dressed and we’ll share a cab to the office.”
“Where are Ethan and Leo?”
“They left a while ago. Didn’t want to wake you.”
Jasper claps his hands together for me to get a move-on while I yawn and rub my eyes. This is going to be a long day.
Less than an hour later, I’m in the Glisten conference room, hoping Glenda doesn’t have us close our eyes for too long for our deep breaths because I have no doubt I’ll fall asleep right there in my comfy chair.
“And… open,” she says gently, meaning it’s time to get going.
I glance at Cami and Lana, seated across from me. They look like they do at all the meetings, their faces plastered with expressions of mild interest, wishing we could just get into the agenda instead of the touchy-feely stuff like everyone else in the room.
But no one would ever tell Glenda that and burst her bubble, acknowledging that she’s a corporate boss girl way before she’s some kind of benevolent momma bear.
Or is she?
She gets to her feet at the end of the conference table, something she rarely does. She smiles broadly, her bright red lips the perfect outline to her perfect teeth, and puts one hand on her hip while she leans onto the conference table with the other. If there was ever an image of a female power player, this is it.
“As you know, the anniversary issue hit at six this morning.” She looks around the room, and everyone snaps to attention.
It’s not like we don’t care—we do, and a lot. It’s just that, anniversary issue or not, we’re already on to the next issue. That’s the thing with magazines, and really, any sort of publication. You put one column to bed and you’re already thinking about the next one. And the one after that.
But, because this is important to Glenda, we smile and nod, and not a few members of the team sneak looks in my direction.
Oh no.
They know something I don’t. Or at least they think I don’t know. But I’m no dummy. This is my last meeting in the conference room at Glisten Magazine. I have no doubt.
I will miss the free bagels, so I grab another from the middle of the table and wrap it in a napkin. When I’m unemployed, I will have to be very frugal.
Ramen noodles, here I come.
The guys will help me, I know they will. They won’t let me become homeless. They won’t let me starve.
