Sunday in New York

The next day, despite how tired and slightly hungover I was, I had to go into work. Hudson was lucky that he had the day off, so he could stay home and nurse his hangover, but I showered up, made grabbed a vitamin water, and drove to the Rolling Stone office.

Sitting at my desk with my iPod plugged into the computer, it played quietly as I re-wrote a rough draft of an article I've been working on. I was interrupted -or more so startled- by my boss's booming voice; my pen dropped from my hand. My nerves were shot.

"Dollface! You busy?" He spoke.

I cleared my throat and pushed my hair back, "Uh, no, not right now." I noticed another man standing sort of behind him.

"I wanna introduce you to the newest member of our team, Christian Reid. Straight from our California base, he's taking over as managing editor and is also gonna oversee the duties of creative director. My right-hand man. Christian, I want you to meet one of the best writers we've got here, Avery Moore. She's sort of like Hunter S. Thompson, without the insanity." Jann laughed.

I rolled my eyes and lightly laughed, "I wouldn't go as far to compare myself to Thompson." I stood up and held out my hand, "It's nice to meet you."

Jann moved out of the way so Christian and I could shake hands and also so I could get a better look at him. He was handsome and had a great smile, he was also pretty tall. "Welcome to our New York office." I chuckled.

He smiled, "Thank you, it's good to be back home."

"Christian here is originally from New York." Jann put his hand on Christian's shoulder.

"Oh really? What part?" I asked, trying to stifle an oncoming yawn.

"I'm from Long Island, but I'm currently living in mid-town Manhattan." He replied.

Again Jann butted in with his booming voice that didn't help my very existent headache. "I thought that I'd set you two up together."

I quickly looked at Jann. "Huh?"

"Well, you have this huge two person desk, and since no one sits across you and hasn't since you've been here, I thought it'd be a great place for Christian to take over. You don't mind do ya, Avery?" Jann spoke.

I gave a silent sigh of relief but also felt embarrassed. I'm glad Jann didn't catch on, but Christian definitely did and a smile quickly appeared on his face.

I cleared my throat, "Yeah sure, that's fine." I awkwardly turned and sat down, trying to hide the bright red colour that burned my cheeks.

"Perfect! Now Christian, you can go on and settle in, I took the liberty of laying out some of the assignments you'll be doing. You'll actually be sharing one with Avery here." Jann said, motioning for Christian to take a seat. He eventually left the two of us in, well, I guess our office now. I watched him undo the two buttons on his suit jacket before taking a seat across from me.

"So, how long have you worked here?" He asked, resting his elbows on his desk and staring across it at me. His eyes were a light blue and he had dark lashes that sort of gave him a smouldering look.

I thought for a moment, "Well, I've been an intern for six months and just last month I was offered a permanent position here; I'm still considering whether or not I'll take it."

"Oh? What's making you hesitate?" He gave me a look, which I assume was unintentional, that intimidated me and I had to look away, using a pen as a distraction. I held it between my fingers and tapped it back and forth on the desk.

"Um...I don't know, I think I just might be setting the bar too high. I always saw myself working for a magazine like National Geographic, or something a little more," I began whispering, "sophisticated."

His thin lips curved into a smile and he lightly laughed, "Rolling Stone isn't sophisticated?"

I nervously laughed, pushing my hair back behind my ear. "I mean, it is, but it lacks that political vibe that, you know, Hunter S. Thompson used to bring."

"Aside from being completely nuts, I assume?" He lightly smiled. I wasn't sure if he was mocking me or was the type of person to become easily comfortable with anyone.

I cleared my throat and tapped the pen a little faster. "Yeah, that's what I meant."

"Well, if I'm allowed to give my advice, or at least opinion on the matter, I would stay here. First off, it'll look good on a résumé, secondly, I think you'll be the one to bring back that political vibe that you wish for." He spoke in such an eloquent manner. It kind of made me a little self-conscious with how...casual I spoke.

Half-smiling, I nodded. "That-that sounds...I'll definitely consider that."

"It was merely my own thought." He chuckled, moving in his chair and picking up the papers that were on his desk. I discreetly glanced at him and silently gave a sigh of relief when I saw that he was reading.

I hadn't realized how loudly the music was playing from my computer, even though I first thought it to be quiet. I began tapping on the keyboard to lower the music when he stopped me.

"Oh, you don't have to turn that down. It's catchy." He spoke, staring down at the papers.

"Oh, okay." I tapped the keyboard once, only turning the volume up one more notch.

For a couple minutes we were in silence, keeping to ourselves and reading quietly.

"Who is this?" He asked, still looking down. I assumed he was referring the the indie music playing through the speakers.

"Metronomy. I'm writing a small piece on them, they're releasing a new album next month." I replied, again trying to stifle a yawn but failing, I covered my mouth and yawned. "Sorry."

He looked up with a faint smirk, "Late night?"

I smiled and rolled my eyes, "Is it obvious?"

"Kind of. I've seen a few hungover people in my day." He chuckled.

I just gave a light laugh.

"Was it a party?" He asked.

I looked up at him again, "Sort of, my boyfriend's father puts on this Autumn Reception every year. It was as if it was orchestrated by Fitzgerald himself. It was my first time going to a party like that."

He nodded. "What kind of parties do you usually go to?"

I turned my eyes up, thinking about it. I've never actually been asked that before. "Um...house parties usually. Or after parties for concerts and local gigs around here."

Again he nodded, bringing his attention back to his work. He turned the page and began reading. I discreetly studied his features. He didn't look like a guy that was around my age; my infantile age of twenty-two. And by the way he spoke, and the professional way he dressed, I figured he was around Hudson's age of twenty-seven, if not close to thirty.

I guess I hadn't realized how long I was staring at him, though most of the time it was unintentional as I was deep in thought, but he began talking again and startled me.

"So you have a boyfriend." He said rhetorically.

I nodded, tapping on the keyboard to change the song. "Yeah, I do. His name is Hudson."

"What does he do?"

I turned and lightly smiled, I loved when people asked me that; I was proud to tell them that Hudson was a successful chef. "He's a chef, he actually owns his own restaurant in SoHo; La Maison."

"Wow, that's quite an accomplishment." He smiled.

I smiled. "I'm happy for him."

Again there was a silence between us, and annoyed by these constant breaks in our already awkward conversations I accidentally voiced the question that was racking my brain.

"How old are you?" I quickly covered my mouth in disbelief at how I just blurted it out especially in such a demanding (or more so, disrespectful) tone. "I'm so sorry." I whispered.

He stared at me for a moment and my heart was frozen with fear that he'd become greatly offended, but a grin quickly appeared on his face and he started to laugh.

"Alright, alright, calm down. I'm thirty-six." He chuckled.

I started to laugh, covering my face in embarrassment. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to sound so mean!"

He laughed, looking across at me.

I looked at him, my face still red. "It just feels like there's this awkward tension between us. And I'm sorry if I'm standoff-ish. I just really thought that you'd end up being like Dwight Schrute from The Office and I'd steal your things and put them in jello-mold to annoy you."

He laughed again, "Well you're welcome to steal my stapler whenever you want."

I just smiled, resting my elbows on my desk and placing my hands under my chin. "You know, you don't look thirty-six."

"Oh?" He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest.

I shook my head, "I thought you'd at least be the same age as my boyfriend."

"How old is he?"

"Twenty-seven." I replied.

"Well thank you." He smiled, "How old are you? If that's alright to ask."

I lightly laughed, "I owe it to you to tell you my age, since I so rudely demanded yours. I'm twenty-two."

"Wow, you're young." A slight smirk crept to his lips as an eyebrow was raised.

"Does that surprise you?" I furrowed my brow, biting the inside of my cheek.

He shook his head, "No. Age is just a number."

I smiled and nodded. Before I could reply to that, my cell began to ring and I check the caller i.d and saw that it was Hudson.

"Excuse me." I spoke to Christian as I stood up, leaving the room.

"Hi." I grinned, answering my phone.

"Hello darling, how are you?" He happily asked.

"I'm fine, still a bit tired though."

"Ah, well I'll have dinner hopefully ready by the time you come home." He replied. I could hear the t.v in the background.

"Great. I'm famished, these day old bagels aren't cutting it for me." I laughed.

"Alright, I'll see you when you get here."

"Okay, love you. Bye."

"Love you too, bye." We both hung up.

* * *

I pushed around the last couple of carrots on my plate with my fork, full from the dinner that he so thoughtfully prepared for us. Hudson and I sat across each other at the kitchen counter finishing dinner off with a nice glass of red wine. I was quiet throughout dinner, mostly just from being extremely tired.

"So, how was your day?" He asked, glancing across me at the muted t.v on the cooking channel (of course).

I nodded, "It was good. We actually have a new person at the office, his name is Christian, he's taken over Melanie's job as managing editor, and he's a co-creative director too."

"Really? That's interesting." I could tell he wasn't exactly paying attention, whenever Iron Chef was on he became engrossed in it. It gave him the same effect that sports would give a sports fan, but this time he cheered for whichever chef was in the battle. I just smiled and took our plates, clearing them off and putting them in the sink.

I kissed his cheek. "Go and watch your show, I'm gonna take a shower and I think I'll just go straight to bed after that."

He nodded. "Okay."

I went into the bedroom and took out my cotton underwear from a drawer and my pyjamas before going into the bathroom. I turned on the shower and let the hot water steam up the room and fog up the mirror. I stripped off my clothing and climbed into the shower, letting the warm water run down my body, sighing and resting my head against the wall, finally being able to find peace and relaxation.