Chapter 1
Adam’s neck vein throbbed as he abruptly ended the call. “I need to hear some good news immediately,” he pleaded, frustration evident as he rubbed his tired eyes with his stubby fingers. The rigid, cold chair made me squirm uncomfortably, while a few strands of my ginger hair escaped the carefully braided style I had fashioned that morning.
Clearing my throat, I spoke with a hint of doubt. “Um... well, I’ve managed to write two more pages,” I confessed, accompanied by a nervous chuckle. Adam’s piercing gaze bore into me, and he sneered with disdain, “Ms. Minyard, if you shed 50 kilos and made an effort to present yourself more professionally, perhaps your words would possess a touch of charm.”
I cast my eyes downward, familiar with Adam’s disdainful remarks, unfortunately reflecting the sentiment shared by many men.
“I’m sorry, Adam, but the book isn’t progressing as well as I had hoped,” I softly apologized, barely audible. Adam held the position of branch manager at the publishing agency where I worked.
“No need for apologies. Finish the book within the given timeframe, or consider yourself fired,” Adam declared, leaving no room for negotiation. I nodded, swallowing hard, and left his office, my hands trembling slightly. Returning to my desk, Petro’s head popped up from the other side.
“What did he say?” Petro, my best friend and the office’s biggest gossip, inquired with intrigue. His dark blue eyes lit up with curiosity, accentuated by his Russian accent. As I sat down, the chair emitted a slight creak as I sank into it.
“I’m definitely going to be fired,” I lamented, burying my face in my hands. “Petro, I could lose my job!” My voice was muffled by my palms, but I felt a gentle pat on my back.
“Ella, you’ll be fine. How much of the book is left?” Petro asked, attempting to reassure me. I looked up, my face flushed with embarrassment. “I have only written ten pages,” I confessed, frustration permeating my voice. Petro gasped, “Ella, the deadline is in two months! Are you crazy?” he exclaimed. I clicked my computer awake and turned the screen towards Petro, who cringed as he read it.
“Alright, alright, no more,” he quickly averted his gaze. “This is supposed to be a romance book? Ella... it’s bad, like really bad,” Petro remarked, his amusement on the verge of laughter.
I scowled at him, feeling a mix of irritation and disappointment. “I don’t know why I thought I could write about this stuff,” I sighed, clicking off the computer.
“You need some experience—” Petro began, but I couldn’t help but interrupt him. I had never been intimate or experienced romance before. “Experience?” I asked, my voice filled with curiosity.
Petro rolled his eyes, urging me to let him finish. “Stop interrupting me. As I was saying, you need experience or talk with someone who has experience,” he explained. I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself, and looked at him earnestly. “So, will you do it? Will you talk with me about... you know?” I asked, hoping he would agree to help me.
Petro burst into laughter, shaking his head. “Hell no! I don’t want my sex life in a romance book, and I highly doubt Eric would appreciate it either,” he replied, glancing at the photo of him and his boyfriend on his desk. “Besides, nobody wants boring old vanilla sex right now! Think ‘Fifty Shades’!” Petro declared, his voice carrying throughout the office. I blushed furiously and quickly hushed him, hoping no one had overheard our conversation.
“Well, I can’t just go and ask people about sex like that! If you haven’t noticed, I’m not the most confident person,” I pointed out, my voice tinged with anxiety. Petro furrowed his brows, deep in thought, fully aware of my apprehension.
“Give me until tomorrow, and I’ll figure something out,” Petro assured me, his voice trying to offer reassurance. He disappeared behind the desk separation screen, leaving me to ponder the potential outcome. Doubt began to consume me, and I couldn’t help but voice my concerns. “Petro, are you sure about this? Maybe I should just accept the setback and start looking for new jobs,” I suggested, my words reflecting my anxious thoughts. Petro’s conviction remained unwavering as he shook his head. “No, trust me on this. Are you free on Friday?” he asked, a glimmer of mischief in his eyes. I nodded, albeit hesitantly. “Petro, please promise me you’re not planning to take me to a sex club. I don’t think I can handle that,” I pleaded, my anxiety growing with each passing moment.
Petro shook his head, his expression sincere. “Ella, I promise you that you will not step foot in a sex club,” he reassured me, his hand crossing his heart for emphasis. Feeling a sense of relief wash over me, I relaxed a little and settled back into my chair.
I focused on my work, diligently answering emails and editing manuscripts, trying to push aside my lingering apprehension. The office buzzed with activity around me, providing a semblance of normalcy amidst the uncertainty that lay ahead.
After a long day at work, I returned to my apartment, a small yet cozy space adorned with impressive floor-to-ceiling windows in the living room. The bustling city street below provided a constant source of activity and a slight hum of life. Setting down my bag and shedding my coat, I entered the apartment, flicking on the lights. The soft buzzing sound accompanied their illumination.
My apartment was modest, consisting of a small bedroom, a bathroom, and a shared kitchen and living room area. On the kitchen island, I noticed the half-empty coffee mug I had hastily sipped on earlier in my rush to get ready for work. With a sigh, I poured out the cold coffee and placed the mug in the sink. The refrigerator emitted a gentle hum as I stood before it, contemplating my dinner options. A container of leftover mac and cheese caught my eye, and I decided to warm it up and serve it alongside some steamed broccoli I had discovered at the back of the fridge.
While waiting for the food to heat up, I changed into a pair of comfortable sweat shorts and an oversized t-shirt, my usual attire for unwinding at home. As I settled on the couch and mindlessly flipped through channels on the television, my thoughts couldn't help but wander to what Petro had planned for us. Excitement tinged with a touch of apprehension fluttered in my stomach. The unknown nature of his arrangement brought about a mixture of curiosity and fear, creating a sense of anticipation that both intrigued and unsettled me. However, deep down, I knew that stepping out of my comfort zone could lead to new experiences and personal growth. With a deep breath, I tried to push aside my worries and embrace the upcoming adventure, ready to discover what Petro had in store for me.
The following day, I arrived at work, and to my surprise, Petro was eagerly waiting for me in the lobby. A wide smile lit up his face as he called out my name, and without hesitation, he enveloped me in a warm hug. Returning the embrace, I couldn't help but feel a rush of excitement as I wondered what he had in store for me.
"Did you come up with something?" I inquired as we walked side by side towards our desks, eager to hear Petro's latest idea. His nod was filled with anticipation, and his smile grew even wider.
"Oh my gosh, Ella, I think it's going to be great!" he exclaimed, his enthusiasm infectious. My curiosity piqued, and I urged him to share the details.
We rounded a corner, making our way towards our respective workstations. Petro settled into his chair, twirling it around playfully. Blushing slightly, I couldn't help but recall our previous conversation about the "Fifty Shades" vibe he had mentioned.
"Yeah, you mentioned the 'Fifty Shades' vibe," I responded, trying to contain my apprehension. Having read the books, I found them a little intimidating. Sensing my unease, I reached out and halted Petro's chair mid-spin.
"But I'm not sure if I can write something like that," I confessed. "And besides, you specifically said no sex clubs."
Petro's eyes widened, as if remembering our previous agreement. "I promised, Ella! No sex clubs, scout's honor!" he declared. " you aren't a scout petro." i said and chuckled a little. petro faked an hurt look.
"Fine, fine. Just tell me already, so I can decide whether or not I want to go along with your plan," I urged, walking over to my desk and settling into my chair. From behind the divider, Petro peered over, ready to spill the beans.
"Okay, so i may have arranged a meeting with a stalker," Petro blurted out, his excitement palpable.
