When people start to gather their things to head to happy hour, I email Corrin the article.
Even while I was writing it, I wasn’t sure if I was going to send it. I stayed on the fence the whole afternoon, and then at the very last minute, I sent it.
Liam said that everything was off the record, but he also made me that offer of spending a week with him in exchange for the story.
So maybe not everything is off the record, right?
I have no idea. I do, however, leave that part out of the story.
The following morning, I receive the email with the following headline:
Reclusive self-published author making $6 million a year tells all.
That's the headline that Mr. Matthews wants.
What do you think? It's going on the front of the magazine.
Since we don't have a picture, we're going to go with our original layout, but your article is mentioned on the front page.
Congratulations.
I stare at Corrin's words and take a deep breath. When I agreed to this, it was just going to be a magazine article, hopefully buried somewhere deep inside.
Now, gracing the cover, I can't help but feel a little pride.
I have never had one of my articles mentioned on the cover before and this is a real source of accomplishment for me as a young writer.
Will it also be the source of all my embarrassment?
I spend the rest of the day in a bit of a trance. I have worked so hard that I feel creatively depleted.
I check my emails.
I reply to some, but mostly I spend a lot of time on social media and reading the news.
Somehow, reading about all the horrible things going on in the world makes me feel a little bit better about the horrible thing that I just did.
Is this going to be the end of my career or am I going to make my career by being a slimy gossip journalist with no facts to back up any of their stories?
No, the problem is that I’m not speculating. I have the facts, I just can’t share them.
I don't know the answers to these questions and I'm not too eager to find them out.
The magazine releases the following Friday. I'm shocked when I see the headline of my article on the cover.
We have a tradition of having a bit of a party in the afternoon on the date that the issue comes out, congratulating everyone on their hard work. The writers with their stories on the cover are in the spotlight and today is my day to shine.
Most of my colleagues had no idea that the story was going to be published.
How could they? I didn’t even know.
Shelby, one of my closest friends at work, walks over to me and gives me a warm hug. She's wearing her favorite scent that makes her smell like the ocean and it’s intoxicating.
“I can't believe that you didn't tell me about this! How could you keep this a secret?”
“I had no idea that Corrin was going to publish it, let alone so soon. It was not even a story until a week ago.”
It would be a lie if I didn't say that I was proud of my work. It's probably some of my best writing. I have never put myself into my stories before and now I realize that adding that bit made it so much more powerful and relatable. There are already comments and messages circulating on social media.
“Have you seen these videos?” Shelby asks, holding her phone out to me.
Dressed in high waisted, tight jeans paired with a crop top, her confidence about her body is contagious. She's not model-thin, not even close, and most of her articles and her Instagram is about loving your body at whatever size it is.
She was hired by the magazine only last year to attract a younger demographic of readers who want to read something that speaks to inclusivity.
“There are videos?” I ask.
“You know about Locks and Books, right?”
I shake my head.
She stares at me in disbelief, but keeps going, “Okay, then you must know about The Lazy Reader?”
Again, I shake my head.
“You're hopeless,” Shelby says, turning on one of the videos.
The host is a pretty girl in her twenties with a buzz cut. The lighting and the audio are professional, yet very casual and inviting. She's holding up my article on her phone and reading parts of it out loud to her audience.
“How’s she already talking about this?” I ask Shelby.
“Because… You have no idea what a big deal D. B. Carter is. Everyone who reads young adult fantasy or any fantasy for that matter has been wondering who he is. Your article answers all of their questions.”
I sigh deeply.
“What's wrong?”
“I can't really tell you,” I say quietly.
“Okay,” she says, popping her shoulders and fluttering her long false lashes.
Her makeup is flawless along with her hair and her outfit. She looks this way every single time she's at the office. I would hate her except for I really like her. She's smart, funny, and witty. She makes me laugh.
“Did you sleep with him?”
“What? What are you talking about?” I gasp.
“You did. You slept with him!” She stares at my face, slowly raising her finger and points her long nail at me.
All the blood drains away from my face.
My body grows rigid and I don't know what to do.
When I open my mouth again to try to salvage the situation, something tickles the back of my throat and I start to cough.
“Oh My Fucking God!” she shrieks. “What the hell happened? You have to tell me everything!”
6
Emma
Not wanting to talk about this in the main room with all of our other colleagues, I pull her aside to my cubicle.
“You slept with him,” she says in a whisper.
It's not an accusation.
It’s anything but that.
Shelby is an empowered and sexually positive woman.
No, this is just her being excited for me.
The problem is that it's bad enough that I wrote this article. It would be very unprofessional for me to write this article about someone that I had slept with who I didn't even get to go on the record.
I debate how much of this I should tell her. Then I take a deep breath and take a chance.
“Okay, if I tell you this, can you promise that you won't say anything?”
“What do you mean?” she asks, raising one eyebrow.
“You have to promise me. As a reporter. I'm your source. You have to keep this a secret, just between us.”
Despite all of her interest in juicy gossip and other things like that, I know that Shelby takes her job as a journalist seriously and that she would never break her oath.
I used to think that I was the same way, unfortunately that's not the case.
“Everything in the article is true,” I admit. “Although, he didn't exactly go on the record with me about what we talked about.”
“He didn't?”
“I wasn't going to make it a story at all. It was just an accident that I happened to find him. I went there to get over my stupid relationship drama and to clear my head. Then when I found out that he was actually a friend of Alex's –"
“Wait, what?” Her eyes become two big saucers as she stares at me.
“He was at the party, but he had to leave early.”