PAROXYSMS (What is on my mind?)

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Chapter 5

Miguel Rodriguez was very successful for his age, his wits were more charming than his looks. Six years back he started off simply being an editor at Foxan and today he stands as the editor in chief of the London branch.

All these years he has never mixed his personal life with his professional life. He has dated models, writers, singers and many different affluent individuals but no one from the magazine. He never had small flings or one night romances. He was a passionate lover who yearned for wild romance that momentarily diverted him from his disciplined life setting an exotic frenzy of feral adrenaline rush. Two years back when Foxan decided it wanted to include a column to welcomed anonymous writers to send their write ups without pay, an article was sent in “The unheard cry of the little souls.” Within hours of its publish the office phone was bombarding with calls and messages. The article was regarding Syrian children losing their lives due to the outbreak of the outrageous war between the different political and religious groups. Different newspapers wanted a more elaborate write up regarding the topic willing to pay up. People on twitter and other social platforms were praising Foxan for bringing light on such an intricate matter. UK ended up collecting a profound amount of humanitarian aid from the affluent. The Pagers demanded the writer to be called in for an interview. The article was sent anonymously ending with “by a human heart that weeps”. It took Mig a couple of phone calls and exactly two weeks for Peel to be at Foxan board room, seated alongside the Pagers and Mig.

Peel was in her final year at law school. She was wearing formals, gray pants and coat paired with white shirt and black heels. She sat down quietly, her hazel eyes scanning across the room and their faces. She had an unusual calmness in her which was intimidating. What made things interesting was she was the only daughter of the Conwood’s, the owner of the multi billionaire franchise of hotels and restaurants in the United States. The Pagers offered her an internship for six months if she was interested. It was not long from then the magazine decided to open up a separate segment that would cover social issues and Peel was in charge of it as no one was even half as good as her. Although the fashion and lifestyle segment dominated more, her segmented played a vital role in increasing the magazines demand.

April was right, Mig did gush over Peel much for it was impossible to read her. She was graceful and elegant but no one could tell she came from such an influential background. She could have the entire world under her feet, but she liked staying low-key. She had agreed to the internship policy only on the basis they would keep her family background a secret. Everyone knew anyway, it was the magazine industry after all but at least her demands restrained everyone from reminding her about her heritance. She wanted to be liked for herself but what was herself? The only person she would interact with at work was April. April loathed Miguel, she felt her work was less acknowledged because of him. On every hit the magazine made Mig would be credited. Four years in business and each passing year she despises him even more. Mig could comprehend the cloud of envy around April. Her work was undeniably brilliant but there was nothing more he could do about it, especially when he knew every atom in her body wanted to kill him and be Foxan’s next editor in chief. April was always very possessive of Peel and would not let Mig be around her for long. She liked working with her parallelly discussing over the themes. It gave her a strong sense of ownership to the magazine and she liked it.

Over the time it started suffocating Mig for not being able to predict Peel. Her write ups would scream words of protest, justice, and the dark sides of prejudice, the unfair inequality, and the shameful social stigmata. Then there she will be, sitting down for hours being calm and composite working, detached with everything and everybody. They never exchanged much words. She would mostly gesture and usually give her replies in two to three words, barely speaking sentences and with her work aptitude she did not need to speak much anyway.

About a year back the Pagers had thrown a party in celebration of the company’s seventh anniversary. This was done annually with chic decorations, scrumptious food, exotic wines, glamorous faces and photographers all over the place covering the event. April brought in her then girlfriend Nichole, Mig had all eyes on him, and Women were gawking at him, ogling his perfect figure. It was of no surprise people found him alluring especially when he was all so dressed up in his black tuxedo. April was wearing her usual pants and coat with laced bra her attire was in gold and blinks, Nichole was wearing a silver slit gown which was backless, showing off her toned legs and back. Peel arrived wearing a turquoise black short gown ending just above her knees, boat neck, a deep backless V, dark green stilettos. Her hair was in wavy curls and she had put on blood red lipstick and her upper eye lids were lined by thick black eyeliner. People came over telling her how much they were in awe of her piece and how young she was to be talking about such bold leading issues. Mig was watching her from afar, she seemed apathetic but cordial. An hour and a half later Mig spotted Peel on the exit way leaving, without a second thought he hurried behind her.

Peel was just meters away from the venue when she heard a familiar voice call on her. She knew who it was before turning.

“Where are you going?”

“I need a drink.”

“Well you will find plenty of that inside.”

She stood there, her eyes locked with his before they recklessly shifted around. She bit her lower lip partly opening up her mouth to speak but barely uttered a word.

“May I come with you?”

She nodded.

15 minutes later they were seated across the table in the nearest bar. She ordered gin and tonic and so did he. Mig was staring straight at her while she looked down. Her fingers intertwined in loose locks. The drinks arrived minutes later. She seeped before gulping it down. She cleared her throat and called the waiter for another. His gazed still fixed, his drink untouched. She rested her left elbow on the table supporting her head with her hand. She looked at the glass in front of her and dipped her right index making swirls above the submerged ice. She paused slowly lifting up her head. He was still staring with his dark black eyes and pale pink lips pouting out. Peel stared back, none of them flinching. Seconds passed even though it felt like hours before finally her lids dropped. She looked away gulping down the drink as he took his first seep. She looked out the side window walls as he finished his drink. He called the waiter and before he could even ask for the bill she put out her money on the table, getting up. As she started to walk past him he grabbed on her wrist with his right hand. He took out the money with his other hand placing it on the table. She stood there, their backs facing. He gradually rose up, his hands sliding down from her wrists to her hand. He walked her out of the bar.

They took a taxi to her apartment. The elevator clicked on the eighteenth floor. She opened the door walking inside, Mig behind her closing it as they walked in further. It was dark, she walked up to her bedroom as he followed turning on the lights. She went up to the mirror on her dressing room wall and took off the dress. She was wearing a black laced bra and pantie underneath. As she reached for the bra his hands lightly touched over her fingers undoing the bra hook. He slid her bra down, her breasts were popping out. He stared at her reflection in the mirror. She turned around held his hand and took him to be bed sitting him down. She sat down on top of him, and he could still see their reflection on the mirror behind. He was hard and she was wet. She started moving her hips back and forth taking of his tuxedo, unbuttoning his shirt. He let out a gentle growl, his hardness was growing. He gently put his arms around her waist. She started unzipping his pants and before she could even finish he pinned her down ripping off her panties and thrust inside her.

The next morning when Mig woke up he was greeted by Mrs. Garner, the housekeeper who had his breakfast prepared. He thanked her and left without eating.

Peel was already at the office when he arrived. Everything was the usual but the only thing that had changed was, she had smiled at him the other night, while brushing her fingers across his tattoo. It was the first time she had smiled at him and the last time too.

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