Incite Me

Chapter 23

Day 1 - Monday

An entire day in the office dragged out like it has never dragged before. Although I had pieces to edit up to elbows and one would think that keeping busy makes your time fly but it was definitely not the case. I kept glancing at a slowly ticking clock arrow in a far left corner of our office every two to three minutes religiously. I wanted the day to be over so I can start counting the next day. And then the next. Until the flight to New York. One part of me dreaded the big day when I'll finally meet Dorian's parents but the other part couldn't wait for the fifth day, when I'll be able to see Dorian himself. The waiting was excruciating to say the least. For the first half of the day, I kept checking my cell in case Dorian has a change of heart and decides to text me but he didn't. No text message, no phone call.

After everything we've been through - this is how I repay him? I was a disgrace to myself. 

"Sammy girl!" Anna shrieked, peaking through a tall cubicle wall. 

I was floating in my own world, with head buried deep into the stack of papers in front of me. Like a robot, I typed the words onto the system without even looking at the keyboard when Anna's high-pitched voice caused me to quake and hold my breath for a steady minute. "Hi." I finally exhaled, letting my startled heart to gain back its rhythm. 

"You look pale." She came to sit on the edge of my table and placed the back of her hand on my forehead. "Not a fever. But are you alright?" 

I sat back deeper into the swivel chair and cocked my head aback. Taking a loud sigh, I looked at my friend, "I'll survive."

Anna brushed her beautifully manicured finger over disobedient strands of hair on the side of my cheek and tucked it behind my ear. "I'm sensing men troubles." She rewarded me with half a smile on her plump red pout. "Do you want to talk about it?"

I shook my head, desperately trying to avoid her hazelnut stare but I knew I'll have to eventually let my oozing mind out at some point or another. Anna was someone I could trust. Completely. "Let's meet in the Wild Goose after work and I'll tell you all about it." 

"Sounds great, gorgeous!" She chuckled and disappeared down a narrow path between cubicle walls, her high heels clacking in a distant echo over wooden floorboards. 

Not long after Anna left, Naomi called me to her office. It was quite odd and unlike her, to distract my paperwork when she was the one to set me up with tons of unedited articles in the first place. 

"Shut the doors." She stood with her back at me, almost six feet high by a floor-to-ceiling window with her arms crossed over her skinny chest. 

I think she has mentioned before that her career started as a catwalk model. And years didn't add a single wrinkle on her smooth as velvet complexion. Wearing a white skin-tight dress and stiletto heels, Naomi resembled a Queen-Bee like no other. 

"Is something wrong?" I asked and searched her vast office as I sat on a visitor's chair. 

She graciously turned around and sat back to her leather chair, crossing one leg over the other. I couldn't help but notice her perfect complexion cover in tired rouge. "I came to Compton when my modelling career has been put to a halt due to my injury." Naomi spoke as if I was about to be taken down her memory lane. I wouldn't have minded to be that listener she craved for, but she knew I had heaps of work to do.

Cut to the chase, Naomi!

"The burn on my left ankle made me crippled in the eyes of most agents and that's why I proceeded with the next dream of mine - journalism. This bureau has been my home for the past ten years." Her eyes grew weary as she studied my face. 

I nodded, not knowing what to say. 

"Would you like something to drink, Samantha? Whisky, rum, tequila?" The change of a subject didn't come as a surprise. I've watched enough TV dramas to figure that what she was about to tell me wasn't going to be pleasant at all.

"No, thank you." I declined politely. 

Naomi lazily stood up and went to a small tray where she kept her finest liquors and few crystal glasses. Pouring herself a flat whisky, she took a short swig then went back to her chair and rested her elbows on her desk, focusing her eyes back at me. "In a month's time, I'm going to have to let this all go. Bankruptcy is such a delicate matter nowadays."

My eyes popped in disbelief, "Bankruptcy?" I didn't understand why she felt the need to tell me all of this when none of my colleagues knew anything about it yet.

"Copyright issues and ongoing debts with our investors." Naomi exhaled sharply then took another sip of her whisky. I guess as it was almost the end of the day that she has allowed herself to drink in the office. 

"I'm sorry, Naomi." 

"It isn't as bad as it sounds. Rickon Press has asked me to join them as a managing partner."

Rickon Press was one of the biggest publishers in The States and moving from a rather unimportant Compton bureau to a vast, multimillion dollar business did sound promising for my boss. 

"And I want you to come with me as my personal assistant. Your pay will be doubled and as a curtesy of RP, you'd get a company car and an apartment." 

I sat unable to comprehend her offer right that instant. It all sounded too good to be true but as far as I could recall, Rickon's main office was all the way in Manhattan, New York. I swore I'll never set my foot anywhere near that city unless I really have to. 

"Naomi, I..." 

"You don't have to give me an answer right now. Think about it. New York is a city of possibilities. I feel you could use an upgrade from your boring Compton life."

If only she knew that my life hasn't been anywhere near boring this past month. 

"I'll think about it." I nodded hesitantly and stood up, "Should I finish the articles now that we're bankrupt?"

"Our clients needn't know anything about it yet. Take it home and make sure they're at my desk next Monday morning. You can go now."