Page 3 of Between the Paragraphs

At only twenty-nine years old I’ve accomplished a lot in life. With work being the only thing I live, eat, and breathe, it’s clear why I’ve risen so high in the ranks. Without being married with kids I have a sole focus in life, and that’s work. Some might find this sad. I love it . . . on most days.

I swirl the ice in my glass, my vodka martini reflecting the soft amber glow of the bar lights as I smile at my best friend Nikki who loves people watching as much as I do. I love that we get to attend these conferences together. It makes work that much better. I know, I know, there’s not supposed to be ice in martini’s, but I like it. I also put ice in my wine which drives people crazy. They aren’t the ones drinking them, though, so they shouldn’t be concerned.

“You look like you need another,” Nikki says, her eyes sparkling with amusement as she sips her red wine. We’ve been besties since childhood. She’s been working on her first book for about five years now, and is determined to be a world-famous author. The problem is, though, that she easily gets sidetracked so steps away from that original book to try something else. Since she has a hefty bank balance thanks to her grandfather, she’s in no hurry to do anything she doesn’t want to do. This doesn’t mean she isn’t busy, it just means she lives for pleasure versus work.

“I always need another,” I tell her. “I’m a bit bummed about my current assignment. I love finding new authors on my own. It’s probably my favorite part of the job. I don’t, however, like being pushed into bringing an author I might not vibe with into the family.” All of us editors look at our authors as family. Sure, it’s business, but writing’s personal, and when you’re digging into the very soul of a person, it helps if you like that person. Sometimes the soul of a person is terrifying, and I want to run away screaming. I wonder how the editors feel for people like Stephen King. That man comes up with some terrifying material. I have to admit I’m a fan, but there are some parts that disturb me like the sex stuff in It. I think that was highly unnecessary to the story and incredibly disturbing. He’s not an author I’d personally add to my own list.

Nikki raises her eyebrow at me as she leans in conspiratorially. We’re wise enough not to be overheard. There’s a lot of gossip at conferences and the last thing my publishing house needs is a bad reputation. Something said wrong can start a rumor that escalates into losing your job and losing your chance in the industry. That’s why I’m grateful I can still use my head even with a buzz going on.

“What’s the latest disaster?” Nikki asks.

I let out a sigh as I finish my drink. “I’ve been assigned to get a new author I’m not thrilled about. It’s not that he isn’t good, it’s just that he writes different from what I usually like. It is what it is, though.”

Nikki laughs. “You’re the best editor at the house. I can’t believe you’re being assigned anything. Maybe it’s because they know anything you go after, you get,” she tells me.

“That’s true. It’s hard being the best of the best,” I say with a laugh and a flip of my hair. There’s no doubt I’m confident, but I know how cut-throat this industry is. While I’m determined, there are a thousand people in line right behind me looking for a cut. I can’t stop being the best for even a second or I’ll be chewed up and spit out.

Right on cue our bartender approaches. “Another glass of wine and another vodka martini with ice,” I say with a smile.

He grins back before moving over to make our drinks. Nikki glances around the bar, her gaze landing on a couple who’ve just walked in. She nudges me. “Look who decided to grace us with his presence.”

I turn to see my ex-boyfriend, Bobby, striding in with his newest girlfriend. The man can’t be alone for a single day. The newest flavor of the month can’t be more than twenty-one, though I wouldn’t be surprised if she was straight out of high school, her youthful exuberance starkly contrasting with Bobby’s seasoned demeanor. He glances up and sees me, and they immediately make their way toward us. Smug satisfaction is radiating off of him — nothing new. It’s why we didn’t last long. It doesn’t take him anytime at all to arrive next to me.

“Maria, Nikki,” he greets us, his smile too bright. “It’s a pleasure seeing you here.”

I plaster on my most nonchalant smile. “Bobby, what a surprise.” The words only carry a hint of sarcasm in them.

“Considering we met at a conference we’ll be seeing each other for many years to come,” he says with a laugh that I once considered charming. How was I ever attracted to this man? Sure, he’s good looking. The problem is that he knows it, and not in a confident way, but in a smug and annoying way.

A petty part of myself likes to think that he dates these young girls because he’s scared of getting old, which is also why he seems to go under the knife so often. Those cheekbones and that chin aren’t the same he had when we dated, and there’s no way a thirty-year-old like him has no wrinkles at all on his forehead when he laughs.

“How wonderful,” I tell him as the girl giggles. She either doesn’t see any awkwardness in this situation or she’s deliberately ignoring it. Both rankle. He does like them beautiful and dumb, so I assume it’s option one and she just doesn’t notice undertones in the conversations around her.

“This is Tiffany. She’s an aspiring writer,” he finally says. He loves his arm candy, but I’m surprised he even remembers her name. His arm drapes around her, pulling her indecently close. “She’s incredibly talented.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Tiffany. I wish you the best of luck.”

Tiffany giggles, twirling a strand of her bleached blonde hair around her finger. “This is all so exciting. It’s my first conference. Bobby has been a fantastic mentor for me.” Her voice is so high-pitched I’m surprised my glass doesn’t break. I feel sorry for the woman. She’s most likely been told her entire life that she’s perfect because of her looks so she hasn’t had to try anything else to work on like . . . intelligence.

I glance at Nikki who appears to be struggling not to burst into laughter. We quickly look away from each other before we lose it. We know each other so well no words need to be spoken between us. We also know when we can’t make eye contact and stay serious.

“So glad you have a great . . . mentor,” I finally say, managing to keep my tone neutral.

Bobby knows me well enough to hear the undertones. His smile falters for just a moment. He quickly composes himself though. “Maria, you’re looking busy as usual. I’m sure work’s consuming you.”

He’s never had the same work ethic as me and couldn’t stand that I had a higher rank than him when we were a couple. He has his own trust fund, and uses it to make himself look good to make up for his lackluster editing skills. He doesn’t know what hard work is. I have a great family, but there’s no money. Anything I want has to be earned.

“Yes, always busy,” I tell him. I wear this with a badge of honor. “No rest for the wicked.”

Tiffany looks confused, finally hearing a bit of the sarcasm. Bobby could care less about making her feel uncomfortable. He only cares about himself. She might be clueless enough though to not mind his selfishness. Some women are.

“Well, I wanted to say hello, but we have people to see,” he tells me. “Enjoy yourself.”

“You as well,” I tell him as I begin turning away. Our obligatory greeting is officially over. I’m sure he’ll show up again, but this is it for the night. This is one of the biggest problems in dating people you’re going to have to see again and again when that relationship is over. I should’ve learned my lesson by now.

They walk away and Nikki finally lets out her laughter. “What the actual hell?” she says in between giggles. “Priceless, absolutely priceless. I think he thought he’d make you jealous with his new flavor of the week.”

“He’s been trying for the past year at each conference. When I don’t react, he slinks away. I think he’s arrogant enough to think I miss him.”

---