“I'll call you tomorrow,” I say. “I promise.”
“No, you won't,” he says, leaning against the wall. “You’re just trying to get me out of here.”
“Yes, of course I am!” I snap.
Shelby glares at me and Alex chuckles.
I don't always say what I mean, but in this situation the words just escape.
I've put my hands into fists and then spread them out again, relaxing my fingers. There has to be a way out of this. There has to be some way that I can make him leave without making a scene.
“Can you just follow me into the parking lot?” I plead. “Let's talk about it there.”
“No, I don't think so,” he says, leaning firmly against the wall and even propping one of his legs up.
His shoes are dirty and they leave scuff marks on the taupe wall.
“Put your leg down,” I whisper, grabbing his elbow and trying to lead him out.
“Is there a problem here?” Corrin asks. Her voice is loud and authoritative. We all snap to attention.
“Hey, I remember you!” Alex says and my face gets flushed. “Corrin Matthews, right?”
“Yes,” she says sternly.
“Didn’t we chat at a bar a few years ago? Right before I met Emma?”
“Can I help you?” Corrin asks, her facial expression unwavering and detached. “I heard Emma ask you to leave a few times, but you are refusing to do that.”
“Yes, yes I am. She's my fiancée and I need to talk to her.”
“She asked you to go and that means that you need to go.”
He shakes his head.
Corrin walks over to one of the phones at reception and calls downstairs.
“Yes, there's a man here who is refusing to leave. I'd really like you to come up and escort him out.”
Alex continues to protest and my embarrassment continues to grow. I have never been so humiliated in front of my coworkers before. It may be years before I'm able to get over this in their eyes.
Eventually, Phil, the security guard, comes up and tries to escort Alex out. Dressed in uniform, he brings an air of authority with him and yet Alex still refuses to budge.
Phil calls for backup and also calls the police. Eventually, the guards manage to get Alex out of the building, kicking and screaming, awaiting cops downstairs.
“I'm so sorry about that,” I keep saying over and over again to Corrin who just waves her hand in my face.
“Emma, you don't have to worry. He's an asshole. You deserve better. I'm sorry that he’s such a fuck-up.”
This makes me feel better somewhat, but I still can't get over how embarrassed I am. I try to drown my sorrow in a few more glasses of wine, but it somehow makes it worse.
Then Corrin pulls me aside and asks me to step into her office.
“You did some really good work on this article,” Corrin says. “It's getting a lot of hits on Twitter and already got picked up by BuzzFeed and some other big online news sources. I even got a call from The New York Times.”
“Really? The New York Times? What did they say?”
“They wanted to confirm the story. They wanted to ask you some questions about your investigation. He's a really big deal.”
I bite my lower lip, not knowing what to say.
“When I asked you to do this, I had no idea that it would actually work out. I hope that it's going to reflect in circulation, but if it doesn't, it’s still important. Know that you did a good job.”
“Thank you,” I say. “I really appreciate that.”
“I know that things have been kind of off with us ever since I started dating Alex –" I start to say and then immediately regret it.
“There is nothing that has been off with us,” Corrin says, shaking her head.
My body goes rigid as I stand before her unable to move.
Why did I bring that up?
We are in such a good place now. Why did I have to say that?
“Yes, of course,” I mumble, agreeing with her.
“To tell you the truth, I'm glad that nothing ever happened between me and Alex. He seems like a real piece of shit.”
Her bluntness takes me by surprise. I hang my head and nod in agreement.
“Yes, he is,” I say. “He's very good at hiding it. I had no idea that he was this person until…”
“Emma, you're a very capable writer and journalist. This whole thing that happened in your personal life, maybe it's for the best. It's a learning experience. In the meantime, you need to focus on what's important to you. If you write articles like this, and if you do research like this, you will go far in life.”
“Wow.” I take a step back and exhale. “That really means a lot to hear you say that.”
“This article is going to put us on the map. It's not exactly the direction that Coast has ventured in the past, but clearly our focus on interior design and fancy people's houses is not selling copies. I see this article and others like it as a way to go forward, to rebrand, and to show people that we are a lot more than just kitchen and living room layouts.”
“You really want to take the magazine in another direction?” I ask. “Like in a very different direction?”
“I do, yes. I'm trying to convince my uncle that's the best way to go. The more people that read our online articles, the bigger our buzz, the more convincing my argument will get.”
“Yes, I understand,” I say.
“In this business, you’re either swimming or sinking. There is no stable middle ground. So, I want to go in the direction of pushing boundaries.”
“I like that,” I say, nodding my head. “That makes me really excited about the future.”
“Good, because I have another idea for you.”
I nod and wait for her to explain.
“I want a follow-up article about D. B. Carter. Everyone's going to be talking about him. It's going to be some of the biggest news that the literary community has had in a while, but of course we are not limited to just that community. Stories like these sell copies. Anyway, you have an in with him. Everyone is writing follow-up stories right now, but they don’t have access to the source. I want you to pursue that angle. Get closer to him. Get him to trust you more. I want you to write a follow-up piece.”
“About what?”
“Who is he exactly? We know that he's a writer and we know some of his writing habits, but I want to know more. Who are his family? His friends? Where did he go to school? What are his political views? Is he married? Who is he sleeping with? Anything like that. The juicier the better.”
My breath gets caught in the back of my throat.
“I also want pictures. If we can get him to sit for the cover shoot, that would be awesome. If not, then maybe you can take some really good candid ones and we can go with that.”
“Cover shoot?”
“I'm regretting that you didn't get any pictures of him already. We all know his name, but there are no pictures to go along with that and that's no good in this day and age.”
I swallow hard.
“You look shocked,” Corrin says.
I am. I'm both excited by the fact that she wants me to write an official cover story for the magazine and petrified by the fact that a big story like this might combust my career.