Close Quarters

“Your panties are by the door.”

I was not expecting the deep masculine voice where I was on my hands and knees searching for the aforementioned piece of underwear and so in my startled state I bumped my head on the underside of the table.

Pain erupted at the back of my head, quickly followed by intense mortification at being caught in the process of what I'd appropriately termed The Flawless Escape.

Not so flawless now, unfortunately.

I was so grateful for my dark skin as I shamefully crawled out from under the table and faced the man I was trying very hard not to alert to my departure.

He was sitting up in his enormous King-sized bed, the dark material of his duvet bunched at his waist offering an exquisite view of his very sculpted six-pack.

Damn girl, you sure you don't have time for another round?

“I assume that's what you're looking for, right?”

His voice snapped my gaze up to this face where it should've been in the first place.

He raised an eyebrow, the sun streaming from the open blinds making his brown eyes an effervescent shade of honey against his pale white skin.

I was just reliving the feeling of his supple lips on my skin and his strong arm guiding my legs to his shoulder last night when the logical part of my brain realized that he had asked a question.

“Yep,” I said too quickly, my unbrushed hair following my quick nod. “Yep, I was looking for that.”

“It's by the door.”

He tipped his chin and I followed his gaze to find my black lace panties almost hidden by the bedroom door that had been thrown open in our effort to get to the bed.

I had no idea how it got all the way over there but I was relieved that my suffering was finally over.

Before I could decide what to do, the very attractive man — I genuinely had no idea what his name was — flipped the duvet off the lower half of him and got to his feet.

In doing so I got a full view of a very nice, pert pair of butt cheeks.

I hadn't finished processing that when he turned around and faced me, naked as the day he was born.

Girl, are you really sure you don't have time for another round?

There were few things in life I loved more than my job but I was willing to take the risk of getting there late for another chance to be railed by Adonis himself.

Unfortunately that was not to be.

“I'll let you get dressed then.”

He walked out of the room, scratching his curly brown hair and yawning, completely unaware of the nature of thoughts that had just been running through my head.

I had been in every version imaginable of the Awkward Morning After Small Talk and they were all like pulling teeth but this was worth it for the view alone.

Immediately he was out of sight, the parts of my brain that didn't control my libido finally came online and I crashed into the carpet.

God was a master creator, I had to give him that.

Forget the hot man and get to work. You're going to be late.

That was all the push I needed.

I got to my feet and snatched up the straying underwear.

After putting it on, my skirt was next and I was presentable enough to go outside.

I ran my hand through my straighted hair but it was a half hearted attempt because I knew nothing besides a brush and some coconut oil would make it look presentable.

Taking a deep breath I stepped out of the room and down the stairs.

Adonis was nowhere in sight as I found my leather trench coat, Coach purse and one red stiletto.

I sat at the end of the long, L-shaped couch strapping on my shoe when heavy footsteps sounded out.

“Here,” he thrust something into my face. “I found this in the kitchen.”

At the level I was, his little friend was directly in my face but I chose to ignore it in favor of collecting the shoe he was handing me.

“Thanks,” I said, that feeling of cringe coming back.

This is why you get up early after a night of mindless sex and slip out.

How did it even get there?

The truth was I had no idea. I had been pretty wasted when he suggested we go to his place and honestly I couldn't remember anything other than the two orgasms he had given me.

Finally, mercifully, I was fully dressed.

I stood up and we regarded each other from opposite sides of the couch like we were in an old Western about to draw our guns.

He took a sip from the glass containing orange juice in his hand and blinked at me.

“So . . .” I ventured to start, suddenly having no idea what to do with my hands. “Last night was very fun.”

He nodded. Another gulp.

“I should be getting going. I have work and such. Got to beat traffic!”

I swung my arms as I gave the Elo Wail. A name my sister coined for the short burst of high-pitched laugh that usually escapes me unbidden whenever I find myself in an awkward situation.

“Sure,” he finally replied like a human being with proper communication skills. “You were great by the way. Top ten I've ever had, that's for sure. If you want we can have another go tomorrow. You know where I live.”

He drained the juice and without another word left me in the living room.

Top ten. Very nice. What an honour.

You brought this on yourself.

Rolling my eyes, I promptly exited the ridiculously nice apartment.

An elevator ride later and I was spat out into the bustling streets of New York City.

A sign on the corner proclaimed the time as 8:50 and I was grateful that for all he lacked in general manners, Whats-His-Face at least had the decency to live just a subway ride away from my office.

Buttoning up my coat, I started the walk over to the station.

It wasn't until I was seated on the train that I searched my bag for my phone intending to announce my tardiness and soften the blow.

It was dead.

Sighing, I tossed it back into my back and reached for my scrunchie.

Once my hair was up in a style that wasn't Sex Hair, I fished out the manuscript I had started to read and my red pen.

This was the best part of my job as an editor. The ability to take work anywhere and still enjoy it. Even this cramped, smelly, jostling metal tube of crap.

When my stop was called I got out, stepping over a man sleeping on the floor of the train.

The walk to my office wasn't supposed to take more than ten minutes and I was so engulfed in running through my schedule for the day in my mind.

It would have to be a half day because I still needed to go home and change out of these clothes.

A man bumped into me as he ran past, almost sending me flying on my ass.

“Hey, watch it, psycho!” I yelled at him.

I couldn't explain what happened exactly after that.

It was like a camera lens came into focus and the sounds registered all at once.

There were sirens and shouting and honking and chaos all around me but I didn't pay any attention to any of that as my feet took me almost on autopilot past tall buildings with their mirrored exterior, past the Starbucks where Berry and I would come for some quiet time, past the alley where I'd lost a shoe after leaving the office Christmas party a year ago and toward the building that I couldn't peel my eyes from, my heart thudding in my chest.

PerfectRomance was gone.

Or more accurately the moderate twenty story building that housed the imprint I had worked at was now a blackened husk. A smoldering finger sticking out in a feeble attempt to touch the sky while firemen were gathered around, spraying water into the abyss.

With the way the plume of smoke was still going higher and blacker I wondered if they were even making an impact.

“What the hell is happening?” I whispered, my voice immediately drowned in the cacophony.

I looked around to ask someone to confirm what I was seeing but the people on the streets either had their phones trained up at the building or were talking with each other, their words punctuated by the occasional point and shake of the head.

My legs kept moving as I elbowed people out of the way in an attempt to reach the building and demand answers.

“Elo! Is that you?”

I barely heard my name. I was intently focused on reaching the front. The answers were in front.

“Elo, stop.”

A hand pulled me back and I was ready to yell at someone when I turned around and saw Berry holding me back.

“What's this? What's happening right now?”

Her tiny black eyes filled with sadness as she hugged me.

Seeing as I was in heels and Berry was the shortest person I'd ever met, she only managed to wrap her hands around my waist.

It reminded me of the leg hugs I would receive from my nephews and I felt the prick of tears behind my eyes.

She pulled out and cleaned her eyes but her tears were quickly replenished.

“Oh Elo, you have no idea how nice it is to see you. You always get to work early and we were so afraid you were in there when we couldn't reach your phone.”

“It's dead. What happened?”

“We don't know. There's not even a theory right now. I guess we have to wait until they're done.”

I looked at the building again.

I couldn't believe it was gone. Just like that.

I remembered turning off the lights in my office and patting the picture of the dog on my wall, having no inkling that I'd be my last day in it.

And it burned down, of all the ways in the world.

That felt like a personal attack from the universe directed solely at me given my personal history with open flames.

There was a tug on my arm and I turned to Berry. She was usually so bright and cheerful and big despite her 5'3" height but today she looked like a preschooler in her denim dungeree and sweater.

“Everyone's at PerfectTruth downtown. Minnie asked me to stay and look out for you if you showed up. We should be going. She'll be happy to know you're alive.”

“Was anyone in there?”

She shook her head. “Let's wait until they know more.”

I let my tiny, Asian assistant drag me into a cab.

I was trapped in a haze. I loved that place. It had been home for the past five years. I read phenomenal stories and watched them find success. I shared the enthusiasm of authors getting their first book deals, line-edited the historical romance novel that would be adapted into the highest grossing TV series in Netflix history and ate so many dinners in the cafeteria I had my own private corner.

Berry was talking but all I could hear was my father's smug voice.

See? What did I tell you, asam? That job was always temporary. You're made for bigger things. At least now you can focus on writing that novel, eh.

It didn't matter that I hadn't written a word in over a decade. It didn't matter that the thought of opening that document filled me with so much anxiety I almost passed out.

None of that mattered to my father. Only that I became like him.

“Are you okay, Elo?”

Berry snapped me out of my own thoughts and I saw that the cab had stopped outside of the identical building that held PerfectTruth.

“I'm fine.”

“Sure? Because I'm sure we can get you a grief counselor or something.”

Oh honey. That ship has sailed.

“I would just like to talk to Minnie and find out the next step.”

We exited the cab after Berry paid.

I had never been to PerfectTruth before but I assumed it wasn't always this busy.

The marble lobby was packed with people and very noisy. I spotted a few men in security uniforms trying and failing to contain the chaos.

“Minnie's in the editorial department. Come on.”

In the elevator I took the time to compose myself, glad I hadn't settled for the skanky dress I wanted to wear for a night out. The short red skirt and halter top I wore might not be exactly official attire but at least I had my trench coat to cover everything up.

The elevator doors dinged open into the wide expansive floor used by our sister imprint. Desks and computers were placed in neat formations to allow for easy movement.

Which didn't matter because the whole place was a beehive of activity.

Much like downstairs there were human beings everywhere. Shouting at each other, typing on keyboards and talking into constantly ringing phones.

“Elo darling! Thank God you're safe.”

My boss, Minnie Copeman appeared from somewhere in the fray and gave me a hug, her familiar designer scent of roses and lilac engulfed me and I returned the hug. I was so glad to see her.

Minnie would make everything better. She always did.

“Let me see you.”

Her dark brown eyes surrounded by smoky eye shadow assessed me for any sign of a scratch.

“You're fine. Thank heavens. Can't afford to lose my best editor.”

“Minnie, what happened to the office?”

Instead of answering me she turned to Berry.

“Berry, be a dear and coordinate with Dunn up at IT to get the files from the cloud. We need to get up and running as soon as possible.”

When Berry went off on her task Minnie finally had time for me.

“Elo dear, don't worry,” she said, steering us down the hall. “I don't want you getting all worked up. What happened to the office is tragic no doubt but PerfectRomance is not a place. It's you and me and Berry. We're PerfectRomance.”

I could tell she was doing her best not to worry me but it was having the opposite effect.

“Was anyone hurt?”

She rolled her eyes and opened the door we stopped at and led us inside.

“Everyone is accounted for so no need to go dark on me.”

“So what . . .”

“Elo,” she interrupted me, running her hands down my arms to calm me down. “I have about two hundred employees that are just as confused as you are with no answers to give them and I'm being pulled in about a million different directions right now but I promise I will make time to talk. For now just stay here, get yourself familiar with the space because it's going to be your new office and I'll be right back. Okay?”

She kissed my cheek and left.

I looked around the space and it didn't have my custom pink walls and inspirational posters. It was a cold, clinical box with grey paint and a glass wall that let in way too much light.

The door opened again and I turned around thinking it was Minnie.

It was not.

Instead the person that I had come face to face with was someone I hadn't seen since he caught me throwing up in the alley after a night of heavy drinking at the office Christmas party last year, causing me to lose one pair of very expensive Louboutins because I was in a hurry to escape his snide laugh.

Connor ‘first born child of the devil’ Price.

His blue eyes widened when he saw me.

“What the hell are you doing in here?” he asked. His accusatory voice immediately raised my hackles.

“What am I doing? What are you doing here?”

“What are you talking about? This is my office.”

“No,” I shook my head. “No, no, no way. Minnie said this was my office.”

“I don't know who the hell Minnie is but this is my office.”

He walked to the table and grabbed a nameplate I hadn't noticed when I came in and berated myself for because if I had it would've saved me the misfortune of seeing this asshole again.

“See? Can you read?” He traced the words. “It says Connor Price, Senior Editor. I'm going to need you to leave my space immediately.”

My mouth dropped open. “Did you hear the news? My building just burned down, this is the only place we have to go, are you seriously going to send me out?”

His mouth curved into a smirk. “Yep. Join the rest of the idiots outside.”

I wasn't a particularly cruel person but at that moment I would've gladly lit Connor Price on fire and watched him burn to ash.