Deviant(3)

Laughing loudly, I shook my head. “Go, go! I’ll pay up here.”

“Thanks, babes. I can always count on you.”

Rising from my seat, I smiled at him. “You’ll just owe me.”

“Sure, sure,” he said, running out the door.

Once I paid for our lunch, I took a leisurely stroll back to my office. For some reason, my editor-in-chief wasn’t breathing down my neck today, and once I got back to the office, I found out why. Louisa, one of my colleagues and close friends, came running towards me.

“Boss wants to see you.” Louisa frowned, showing me the little crinkle at the top of her forehead. Louisa had the most beautiful auburn hair I had ever seen. She had green eyes, just like me, but she looked like a runway model. She was tall and skinny, I was smaller and curvier. She had curly hair, I had straight blonde hair. She was also younger. It was only by a year, but that was one more year away from hitting thirty. I really didn’t want to think about that right now.

Placing my bag under my desk, I looked up to meet Louisa’s eyes. “Terry? What does he want?”

Shaking her head, she looked serious. “Not Terry. Andrew Walker.”

My eyes widened. “What did I do?”

Louisa stared towards his office and flicked her luscious auburn locks from her face. “I can’t see that you’ve done anything. You’ve been meeting deadlines and working your arse off. I would say more often than most here.” Louisa looked at a couple of people and scowled. She hated laziness.

“Okay… I suppose I better go and see what he wants.”

Placing my coat around my chair, I timidly proceeded towards his office. I never had many dealings with Andrew Walker. He was top dog for the newspaper I worked for and, normally, you only got called into his office when a reprimand was needed. To say I was shitting in my pants right now was an understatement.

Feeling everybody’s eyes upon me, I knocked on the door. “Come in!” I heard as I carefully turned the door handle.

There he was…Mr. Walker, bold as brass in his chair. He was very tall with what looked like an average build, but it was kind of hard to tell with the bulky clothes he kept on wearing. I think he was a little bit older than me, but he looked much older with his beard and glasses. He looked like he belonged as a headmaster in a school, rather than a publisher of the Daily London newspaper. One thing I did notice about him was that he did have nice light blue eyes, but that was about it for him.

“Ah, Tyler. Please sit down,” he said with his gruff voice. He even sounded older. He saw my timid approach and smiled. “Don’t worry. I won’t bite.”

Smiling and breathing a huge sigh of relief, I took a seat opposite his desk.

“Tyler, I know I don’t do this very often, but it has come to my attention that you’ve been working very hard these last couple of months. You’ve often come in early and stayed here late. I just wanted to thank you for your efforts.”

Oh shit, there it was. I giggled. Of course I did!

“What’s so funny?” Andrew asked, leaning forward on his desk, his hands clasped together.

“Sorry. Nothing, Mr. Walker. I just wasn’t expecting it, I suppose.”

He suddenly looked affronted. “Are you saying I’m such a hard-ass that I couldn’t possibly give praise where praise is due?”

I’m panicking! I’m panicking! “No, of course not, sir. It’s just that I’ve never been called in here unless it’s about a big story, or a meeting that needs to be addressed.” Swallowing hard, I felt the need to say more. “I appreciate everything you’ve said, Mr. Walker. I love my job. I always have. Journalism was something I wanted to get into since I was a little girl. I love writing, and I love meeting new people and telling their stories. It just makes me happy, I guess.”

Smiling, Mr. Walker relaxed back in his chair. “Have you got any new stories to tell, Tyler?”

I immediately thought of “My Stranger”. Shit, what a big story that would be! The only problem was no one knew anything about him. It was almost like he was my little secret. Something I wanted to keep close to me and only me. It sounded weird, but that was just how I felt.

Thinking about it some more, I had always wanted to do an article on childhood sweethearts. I pitched it to my editor, but she rebuffed it and said it was too soppy. I always thought papers sometimes needed a bit of soppy. Every once in a while, I thought people would like to read something good in the news for a change.

“You have something in mind, don’t you? I can see the wheels turning in your head.”

Debating it, I wondered whether Suzie would be pissed off with me for going over her head.