Dating Games(13)

Once the meeting ends and we have our assignments for next month’s issue, about half of which will never make it to print, we disperse. I hang back to collect the gifts my irreverent coworkers bestowed on me. As I read one of the cards that went along with a bouquet of roses, Chloe sidles up next to me.

“‘Sorry for your loss. Wishing you moments of peace and comfort as you remember all the good times you had together.’”

She snort-laughs at the ridiculousness of it all.

“Did I just get a sympathy card for a breakup?” I muse as I toss it back onto the pile.

“It appears so.”

This shouldn’t surprise me. Since accepting Viv’s offer to work here, I’ve come to learn many of the employees have a rather dark and cynical sense of humor. When the mouse that roamed the office, evading all the traps the exterminators set out for it, had finally been outsmarted, one of the fashion columnists declared a day of mourning. He even went so far as to plan a memorial for our fallen friend. There’s no such thing as a normal day at Blush magazine.

“How did everyone find out?”

She shrugs as she helps me gather everything. “News travels fast around here. You should know that by now. It’s a miracle you didn’t find out Trevor was breaking up with you before he told you. That happened to Maureen over in beauty.”

Arms full, we head out of the conference room with what we manage to carry.

“At least I get chocolate out of it. Like a parting gift after picking the wrong door on Let’s Make a Deal.” I imitate my best announcer’s voice. “Instead of a beautiful diamond or a lifetime of security, we’ll be sending you home with a box of drugstore chocolates. Better luck next time!” We turn into my cubicle and I deposit the first batch of flowers, cards, and chocolates onto my desk.

“Oh, come on. You got a lot more than just a crappy box of chocolates.”

“You’re right. I got sympathy cards meant for the death of a loved one, flowers, and a few balloons.”

“Don’t forget the sausage.”

I frown. “Sausage?”

“Yeah.” She waggles her brows, making an obscene gesture with her hand. “Mr. Armani’s sausage, on the off-chance I’m wrong and you did sleep with him. Regardless, I’d take that consolation prize any day over some schmuck who didn’t realize what he had.”

“Trevor’s under a great deal of stress.” I repeat the same argument, although my words lack the conviction they had earlier. “He knows what he had.” I avoid what I can only assume to be Chloe’s annoyed stare. “I just need to remind him of that.”

I step out of my cubicle to get the rest of my breakup gifts when I almost run straight into Viv. I inhale a sharp breath, stopping in my tracks.

“Sorry, Viv. I wasn’t looking.”

“That much is clear, Evie. I’d like a word.”

“Of course.” I force a smile, pass Chloe a nervous look, then follow Viv, curious as to her sudden need to speak to me. Normally, all magazine-related problems are addressed at our weekly meetings. Then again, Viv’s known to use her employees’ real-life issues in concocting new, edgy story ideas. I worry she’s about to ask me to do something crazy, like sign up for online dating apps and journal my experience. Or apply to The Bachelor. Or something that would rival the premise of How to Lose a Guy in Ten Days.

Once we’re in her office, she closes the door, putting me even more on edge. “Have a seat, Evie.” Her voice is even as she gestures across the desk.

“Is everything okay?” Tentative, I sit down in the bright orange chair. Her workspace is decorated in a stunning mid-century modern design. Vibrant colors. Sleek lines. Uncluttered shelves. Every time I step into this room, I feel like I’ve just walked onto the set of Mad Men. In fact, Viv bought many of the items here in a prop auction.

“Everything’s great. I wanted to speak with you in private about an…opportunity.”

She opens one of the desk drawers and withdraws a file. Placing a pair of dark-rimmed glasses over her eyes, she scans the papers in the folder.

“Since we hired you, our readership has seen a steady increase. These days, every other magazine similar to ours struggles to capture the market’s attention. But your wit, coupled with your love of social media, has helped us stay modern. Prior to bringing you onboard, our sex and dating column was the least popular. Most people overlooked it as being the same stale advice women have received for decades. But you gave it a fresh coat of paint, so to speak. You write stories real women can relate to, although I’ve yet to be the lucky recipient of a penis picture over the Internet.”

I laugh, recalling my most recent blog post that garnered hundreds of thousands of shares on social media. “That’s all I wanted when I took over the column. To make dating and relationships more relatable. To help people realize relationships don’t have to be as hard as we make them.”

“And you’ve done an incredible job. We all know this industry can be tough, having wide swings from quarter to quarter. But it hasn’t been that way lately, and I think a lot of it has to do with your ingenuity. You bring a fresh perspective to a platform we all feared would soon die.”

She removes her glasses and places them on the desk, pinching her lips together. “As you know, Grace is pregnant and will be leaving at the end of the year. She’s decided not to return to work, which means I’m now looking for a new assistant editor. You interested?”