His Unexpected Baby by Jamie Knight
Chapter Five - Skye
The thin black line blinked on the vast field of white like a prairie after a fresh fall of snow. In a single flash of inspiration, I fully understood what my predecessors in the literary arts meant when they referred to the ‘tyranny of the blank page.’
Ideas danced mockingly in my head like demented sugarplum fairies, taunting me with their very existence. I was a classic, or indeed cliché, example of a writer who couldn’t write because of writer’s block.
The ideas were there; there was no mistake about that. It was just that when it came to actually putting them down, none of the words I thought of were right. At least according to my own perception.
The greatest obstinate on my way to finishing something was my own kneecapping perfectionism and self-doubt. Abandoning my labors like the anti-Hercules, I decided to instead get ready for work.
The semi-suit I’d worn the first day had hardly turned a head. Not that that was a bad thing. In some ways it was a positive, as logic dictated it would be difficult to fit in while standing out.
I didn’t want to be celebrated, just noticed, though it was more than possible that being apparently invisible had more to do with my novelty than any instant dislike on the part of my co-workers. At least some of them.
I knew at least two other people were there on the same terms that I was, which was basically that we were to be gum to clog up the leak in the dam until things settled down. It only stood to reason that they would also be angling for a permanent position when the magical elf dust cleared.
It was a situation which couldn’t help but lead to a sense of competition and misplaced animosity in some people. I was quite sure Del Ray had noticed me, but I wanted him to notice me even more. And I wanted to make friends with my co-workers.
I wondered about dressing sexy. Something to really grab attention and make me get noticed. Sure, some attention would be negative, but it probably already was in some corners. I couldn’t be too obvious about it or there would likely be rumors that I fucked my way into a permanent position outside the editor’s bedroom.
To no great surprise, I chickened out and went with the shin-length, plain black dress that I used to wear to church. I considered adding the hat that went along with it to my ensemble but decided against it, the resulting look turning out to be far too absurd. Not quite as absurd as the pathetic old custom that men absolutely had to take off their hats before going into church and women wouldn’t be allowed in without one, but it was a close second.
The toaster clicked, ejecting the sugary goodness of slightly off-brand toaster pastries, going me a taste of the college life without the crushing student debt to our government overlords. My mouth full of strawberry and icing, I headed out to the bus stop.
Jack Frost took a good-sized chomp at me as I waited by the sign, my nipples getting to be more like diamonds with each passing second. There had been a bench here at one point. I had overheard the legends about it by some veteran bus riders who were talking about it the day before. I wished it was still here.
As I passed under the bridge for the second time, no less wowed then the first, I wondered how many trips it would take before the architecture of New York would stop even being noticeable. I hoped never.
An impression I would have very much liked to shake was the nagging if quiet sense of doom when approaching my place of work. I was given to understand that a lot of people weren’t exactly thrilled about going into work, though it seemed unlikely that many would see the office as a potential harbinger of doom.
I’d seen other towers before. Most of the ones in Uptown didn’t really bother me. It was clear that there was an element of ‘yikes’ to the Pigeon building in particular that could only be the result of special effort. Or my Tolkien-addled imagination.
Sign-in went in smoothly today, Sam’s quick and courteous service making it less of an obligation than a pleasure. I was pretty sure I caught him eyeing my chest as I bent over to actually put pen to page, but I couldn’t blame him really. They really were right there, and I didn’t think he could see much through the layers of black cotton.
The first day had been pretty easy, mostly consisting of the staff meeting at which the assignments were given out. Being the nerd that I was, I didn’t get a bit of actual work done on the manuscript that I was meant to be reading, by an author named Scott Butcher, deciding instead to do prep work first. Prep work which mostly involved looking the author up on Wikipedia and reading a spoiler-heavy synopsis of the previous books on his list.
A bit of an oddball, Scott Butcher didn’t seem to have any series, only stand-alone books and relatively short ones at that. The longest tome bearing his name was a relatively scant 500 pages, despite it being listed under High Fantasy, a true enough moniker and probably the best in terms of marketing.
If it were to be called what it was, a grimdark slash fest with blood and carnage nearing the dizzy heights of splatterpunk horror, the potential audience would have been limited. From what I understood, 14-year-old boys didn’t tend to be the biggest readers of fiction.
The book seemed like a weird counterpoint to the holiday cheer, with the office decked out in seasonal jollification. Then again, the book, if accepted, wouldn’t be published for months and Christmas releases were a trend for a while. It mostly applied to movies, but it was there. Ultra-violent movies like Gangs of New York were even released on Christmas Day to cash in on the novelty.
Getting down to work and planning to read at least a quarter of the manuscript that day, I was up to my proverbial knees in gruesome gore and defiled maidens when there came a muffled knock on the exterior wall of my cubicle. I nearly jumped, not having seen it coming at all.
“Skye, right?” asked the person who poked their head in.
“Yes.”
“The boss wants to see you.”
I couldn’t imagine what Mr. Del Rey would want with me but judging by the crocodile grin on my co-worker’s face, I had a feeling that it probably wasn’t good. Hauling myself up from the desk, my legs no longer cooperating with the commands of my brain, I set out in search of Del Rey’s office.
The floor wasn’t that big and if I got desperate, I knew I could ask the receptionist. Outside help turned out not to be needed, though. Del Rey had the only official office in the department. Everyone else was either at the reception desk or packed into the cubicle farm.
Going by pure Vulcan-style logic, I started where I already knew there were doors. Sure enough, Del Rey’s corner office wasn’t far away from the boardroom, arcade or ping-pong court. Taking my fist into a ball and suddenly feeling very little, I rapped lightly upon his office door.
“Come in,” came the call.
Taking a deep breath of courage, doing my best to ignore the tight feeling in my belly, I entered the master’s den.
“Take a seat,” he offered, with a sexy smile.
I crossed my legs as I sat, despite there being zero chance of him seeing up my skirt. It was a trained reflex I still did even when wearing pants. The heat of my pussy neared the level of a furnace as I did so. I tried to stifle my moan.
“I just wanted to officially welcome you to the team. I didn’t get the chance yesterday,” Del Ray said.
“Thank you, sir,” I answered, feeling six years old again.
“Please, call me Simon.”
I couldn’t help but smile, feeling a bit more relaxed. There wasn’t a problem, and I wasn’t getting fired. Though I really had no reason to think I would be. My imagination was working overtime trying to come up with troubles before they happened.
“Did you bring donuts yesterday?”
“Yes. Should I not have?”
I suddenly wondered, too late, if there was some sort of office policy against bringing food for people to share.
“Oh, no, I encourage it. I was just wondering. Don’t worry too much if you don’t make friends immediately. It’s early on and it’s not you. The folks around here are just pretty tight-knit and mostly keep to themselves. It was like pulling teeth to get everyone into the same room for the Christmas Party.”
An unintentional giggle escaped me. The image was just too funny. I covered my mouth in embarrassment, but it was too late.
“You have a really nice smile,” Simon commented.
“So do you,” I blurted, before I could stop the words from escaping.
The tingling sensation went from my pussy up to my cheeks as I blushed furiously, wishing for a rock to crawl under.
“Thanks,” he said, flashing said smile again and nearly knocking me over.
I was in awe of him. His looks, his charm, his easy manner. An army of butterflies fluttered all at once in my stomach, making me feel sick and giddy at the same time.
I’d thought I’d known what having a crash was all about. There were certainly enough descriptions of it around, and I was fairly sure I’d even felt it once or twice. None of it was close to what I felt at that moment, though.
I didn’t really believe in love at first sight, at least not in the fairy tale, insta-love version. And that really wasn’t what was happening. But there were stirrings of things that I felt would make both our lives pretty interesting. And I was excited to find out where it would lead us.
