Dating Games

“Since we hired you, our readership has seen a steady increase. These days, every other magazine similar to ours struggles to capture the market’s attention. But your wit, coupled with your love of social media, has helped us stay modern. Prior to bringing you onboard, our sex and dating column was the least popular. Most people overlooked it as being the same stale advice women have received for decades. But you gave it a fresh coat of paint, so to speak. You write stories real women can relate to, although I’ve yet to be the lucky recipient of a penis picture over the Internet.”

I laugh, recalling my most recent blog post that garnered hundreds of thousands of shares on social media. “That’s all I wanted when I took over the column. To make dating and relationships more relatable. To help people realize relationships don’t have to be as hard as we make them.”

“And you’ve done an incredible job. We all know this industry can be tough, having wide swings from quarter to quarter. But it hasn’t been that way lately, and I think a lot of it has to do with your ingenuity. You bring a fresh perspective to a platform we all feared would soon die.”

She removes her glasses and places them on the desk, pinching her lips together. “As you know, Grace is pregnant and will be leaving at the end of the year. She’s decided not to return to work, which means I’m now looking for a new assistant editor. You interested?”

My eyes fling wide open as I sit in shock. I thought I’d have to work here much longer and gradually move up the ladder. I’d be more than happy if she offered me a transfer to the current events desk, with Margo being promoted to assistant editor. But to consider me for the position? This would be a huge promotion for me, not to mention the exact thing that could show Trevor I can be the serious, professional type. What’s more professional than working as assistant editor at the top women’s magazine in the country? For someone with a degree in English, there’s not much higher I can go.

“Vivian,” I breathe, shaking my head, covering my mouth with my hand. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Say you’re interested.”

“Of course I am. This is… This is amazing. I promise I won’t let you down.” I make a move to get up, but her voice stops me.

“Well, the job isn’t yours yet.”

I cock my head.

“Grace will be staying through December, but we’d like to start exploring our options now. So we’re prepared. I’m sure you can appreciate that.”

“I can.” My shoulders fall. The likelihood of me getting chosen over people with more experience and seniority is slim to none. “And who are your other options?”

“Judy from celebrity news.”

I nod. That doesn’t come as a shock. She’s been in the magazine industry for nearly twenty years. I’m surprised she wasn’t promoted the last time an assistant editor left.

“Margo from current events.”

Another obvious choice. Another woman who’s made a career out of working in magazines. A woman whose job I’ve coveted for years.

“And you.”

“Okay. So what do you need me to do?”

“Show me you can fulfill the duties of this role — conceptualizing and pitching stories for all sections of the magazine, as well as researching, interviewing, writing and editing the copy. You’ll also oversee all the social media accounts and develop a content calendar for those.”

I place my hands in my lap, wishing I hadn’t gotten as drunk as I did last night. I would have much preferred having this conversation with a clear mind and a full night’s sleep.

“I’m more than ready to take on all those responsibilities. I may not have the experience Judy and Margo do, but I’m a damn hard worker and won’t be satisfied until I’ve perfected my craft. Not to mention the idea of planning content for our social media accounts gets me all sorts of excited.”

“I knew it would. That’s why I’m considering you. Now I need you to prove you’re up for the job.” She grins, sitting back in her chair, tenting her fingers in front of her. “Pitch me a story. Something no other magazine has written about. Something we can blast all over the cover and people will be lining up to grab their copies.”

“Right now?” I fidget with the silky material of my dress, toying with the hem.

“Yes, right now. As my assistant editor, you’ll need to be on your toes. Show me you can pitch something without advance warning. There are times a story doesn’t pan out at the eleventh hour and you’ll have to scramble to put something together, perhaps even a featured story, in little time.”

“Okay.” I look around her office, doing everything to get my creative juices flowing. I’m a writer. This is what I do. I find inspiration in the most obscure places and turn it into a story. Maybe if I weren’t still nursing the mother of all hangovers, I’d be able to come up with an idea, but my brain is still cloudy. Then again, maybe something from last night could be my source of inspiration.

I flash my eyes back to Viv. “August Laurent.”

Intrigued, Viv narrows her gaze on me. “Excuse me?”

“August Laurent,” I repeat. “From what I understand, he’s the most sought-after escort on the East Coast, possibly even the country.”

Her lips turn into a conniving smile. “I’m more than aware of who August Laurent is. I’m also very aware he values his anonymity and privacy. He’s never agreed to an interview. And despite repeated attempts by other reporters to unmask this mystery man, no one’s been successful. What makes you think he’ll allow you to interview him?”

“I don’t know.” My voice wavers, a sinking feeling forming in the pit of my stomach that I’ve just pitched Viv an impossible story. I don’t want her to pick up on that, though. “Isn’t part of being assistant editor seeking out those difficult stories? Imagine having a man dressed in a beautiful suit on the front page, not showing his face, with the headline ‘August Laurent: Unrobed’, or something like that. This guy is like Keyser S?ze.”

“Who?”

“Keyser S?ze. The mystery man behind all the shit that goes down in The Usual Suspects.”

Viv looks at me with quizzical eyes. Apparently, she’s never seen one of my all-time favorite movies.

I shake my head. “It doesn’t matter. All that does is this guy is a legend, but also a ghost. Imagine being the first magazine to get the inside scoop or, better yet…reveal his true identity.”

Viv studies me for another long moment, then says, “Okay, Evie. Run with it. Let’s see what you can do. Treat it as if it will be a feature, because whoever turns in the best article gets the feature story and the job. I’m giving you plenty of time, so I expect nothing less than absolute perfection. Don’t let me down.”

“I won’t, Viv.” I raise myself to my feet. “Thank you again for even considering me.” I head toward the door.

“Oh, and Evie?”

I glance over my shoulder, meeting her eyes.

“Just a reminder. We deal with real facts, not sensationalized falsehoods.” She gives me a knowing look. “Make sure you only write the true story. I won’t accept anything less.”





Chapter Six





My feet can’t carry me as quickly as I need them to as I hurry from Viv’s office. All I do is pray I didn’t just set myself up for failure by pitching Viv an impossible story. How is it everyone seems to know the name August Laurent, yet I’ve been blissfully unaware my entire life? Now I’m even more intrigued.

Out of breath, I round the corner into Chloe’s cubicle, her peachy perfume wafting in the air. Her space is much more cluttered than mine. A celebrity news columnist, she always has various tips she’s received scattered across her desk, hoping to be the first to report on whatever this month’s big story will be, usually a pregnancy or new birth. Our audience loves reading about the children of the rich and famous. I can’t blame them. I like reading about it, too. It normalizes them, apart from them having enough money to hire a nanny to help with midnight feedings, dirty diapers, and meltdowns.

“Evie, are you okay?” Her brow wrinkles in concern when she sees me.

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