Page 12 of Is It Casual Now?

twelve

“Kettlehouse!” Her boss screeched out her name as he stood at his open office door.

“For fuck’s sake,” Jamie muttered before she stood up from her desk and started yet another walk of shame toward the office.

She had been on a high since her rather interesting meeting with Siena last night, but the reality of not getting any further with the interview had hit the moment she stepped into the office.

The office pariah—she even considered ordering herself a joke name block with the title on it for her desk. Which of course wasn’t hers because all the desks were hotspot desks since they never wanted anyone at the paper to forget they were replaceable in a moment.

She used to love the thrill of being one shit story away from getting bumped down to a shittier shift. But now, it did more to piss her off than to hype her up.

And all because of a damn blog post that she had every right to publish and share with the world. Damn Siena and her manager horde. Siena still hadn’t apologized, or even acknowledged just how much she was fucking with Jamie’s livelihood. And while that pissed her off, Jamie couldn’t help but be impressed by the woman’s ability and power.

She supposed she deserved it, at least a little bit. But Siena deserved to be used as the example of shitty managers as well. Not because she was a shitty manager, but because Jamie was still too damn raw about being fucked and left.

She closed the door behind her before her boss could tell her to. He sat behind his desk, flicking through papers as though her presence was nothing more than a mosquito buzzing around annoying and distracting him from his real work.

“You got a date for the interview?”

“Um, not exactly.”

“What does that mean? Not exactly?” He looked up, the pretense of more important work forgotten about for the moment.

“She’s pushing back on questions. I’ll get the date soon.”

“Make it sooner.” He held up a stack of messages. To be fair, they were a lot smaller than last time. “I’m sick of these bastards. They’re freaking rottweilers with a bone.”

“I’m working on it.”

“You’re on thin ice, Kettlehouse. Get a date soon or get ready for graveyard shift.” He looked up again. “If you’re lucky.”

“Sure.” Jamie forced the word out over the instant lump in her throat. With a nod, she turned and returned to the door.

“Close it behind you when you leave.”

It was an odd request.

The door was never normally closed unless he was in there screaming at someone for fucking up. As she pulled it closed, she caught a glimpse of him lifting his phone. Must be something unusual because he often delighted himself in letting his editors overhear conversations with big names, or his particular method of dealing with assholes who threatened to take him or the paper to court.

Jamie shrugged as she headed back to her desk.

It wasn’t as though she actually cared. The only reason losing this job would suck was the bills that needed to be paid. And being blackballed at yet another news outlet.

But the blog had started taking a hit as well.

The comments section had to be more closely monitored as the controversy of the topic turned into the controversy over Jamie herself. She had a feeling she knew how her job being at risk had found its way into the comments, but Siena didn’t really seem like that kind of person. And Jamie had always prided herself on being able to read people.

Of course, she hadn’t read that Siena would be the kind to fuck and run but that was before everything got complicated and Jamie had been dragged into the drama she loved to hide behind her byline from.

At her desk, she nodded and did what she had to do. It would have been nice if she had been able to successfully convince herself that she hated having to contact the woman again. But the flutter in her stomach belied any such tales.

Jamie: I sent over some more questions. I’d like to pin down…

Jamie looked at the words, smirked, and tried again

Jamie: Siena, the questions have been sent through. Please contact me with potential times for an interview with Bunny and Piper .

She was tempted to put an x at the end, but after typing and deleting it twice, she kept it professional and hit the send button instead. It was far too easy to mess with Siena, but at this rate, it was much better for her livelihood to do that without any kind of paper trail.

Moments later, the delivered message turned into a read message. No bubbles appeared on her phone, and she scolded herself for the disappointment that washed over her.

With an effort, she placed the phone face down on her desk and got back to her email on the computer. The day dragged with her checking her phone far too often and growing more despondent with each time the message remained unanswered.

“Heading downstairs, want anything?” Jamie stood and asked Scott.

He looked up at her, startled. Surely it hadn’t been that long since she had offered to buy him a coffee. She tried to remember and came up blank.

“Um, sure.” He pushed back his chair and bent down to fumble with the bag at his feet.

“My treat.” She smiled, and he looked even more like a deer in the headlights.

“Is this because you’re going to be fired?” he asked.

“What?” She stared at him, open-mouthed as she regretted her initial offer.

“Sorry.” He lowered his head and rubbed the back of his neck. “You’ve just never offered to get coffee before.”

“Never?”

He shook his head. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay.” She sighed. He was just a kid. His first job, and this paper was a pretty rough example of a workplace. “Guess I’m just a shit co-worker.”

“Nah.” His smile was nice. A kindness she hoped wouldn’t be entirely killed with his chosen occupation. Journalism could be a tightrope gig. It could also be the best rush a person could ever experience. “You’re nicer than most of the others. You didn’t laugh when I tried to hand in a piece about the new generation.”

“Oh.” A light turned on in Jamie’s head.

“Yeah.” He looked concerned for a moment before shrugging.

“All right. I’ll be back soon, Scott.”

“Thanks.” His smile made her feel better about the silence from Siena.

At least until she got to the counter and ordered two coffees the way she liked them because she hadn’t even thought to ask Scott what he liked. What the hell was wrong with her? Had the job turned her into a bad person? A self-centered asshole just like Siena had accused her of, not in so many words, many times before? Maybe she had always been a self-centered jerk. She’d ask Jessie, but how would she handle Jessie’s tactful way of saying she had always been a brat?

With relief, she heard her name being called, taking her away from these thoughts that made her question far too much about herself. As she got to the counter, her phone began to trill from her pocket. She looked at the coffees as she pulled out her phone.

Fuck! How did people buy others coffee and still manage to keep their day flowing?

“Need a tray?” the barista asked. Her smile was lovely. Jamie even considered giving her a flirty smile and response back. But as soon as the idea came to her mind, it skirted off as the image of Siena smiling up at her from between her legs flashed into Jamie’s mind.

What the fuck was that about?

“A tray would be great.”

After a quick thanks to the barista who had now moved away to call out another name, Jamie pulled the phone from her pocket. She answered without looking at the caller ID and jammed the phone between her shoulder and ear. She scooped up the tray from the counter and wove around people toward the exit of the coffee shop.

“Hey, it’s Jamie.”

“Hello?” The voice was silk to her ears, but Jamie must have been imagining it, surely.

There were curses behind her as she stopped dead in her tracks and pulled the phone away from her ear to look at the screen.

Siena.

Fuck!

The tray of coffee balanced precariously in her other hand wobbled as she blinked at the name.

She reshuffled her hold, put the phone back between her ear and shoulder, and walked forward once more.

“Ms. Frazee.” Jamie’s voice was too loud for her own liking, but there was little choice with the surrounding voices and clattering that continued around her.

“Is now a bad time?” Was that a smile, perhaps even a chuckle in Siena’s voice?

Jamie couldn’t be one-hundred-percent sure as she finally stepped out of the busy cafe.

“No, not at all. Sorry, I was just grabbing coffee.” Jamie scowled at her own lapse. Why on earth had she apologized?

“Do you have time to talk now about your latest round of questions?”

“Latest round of questions?” Jamie seethed as she stepped back into her work building. She walked up to the elevators and stopped. She didn’t bother stabbing the button, and her mood right now would definitely end up with her stabbing it. But if she stepped inside the elevator, the connection would undoubtedly be cut off as they moved up the building to her floor. She usually wouldn’t have cared. People called back if they needed to. But she didn’t know if Siena actually would. Why she cared so much obviously had to do with the new threat once again hanging over her head about losing her day job.

“Yes.” Siena’s response held no humor this time. “The questions are a lot better, I’ll give you that, but there are still some I won’t allow you to ask.”

“You’ll give me that?” Jamie scoffed at the woman’s audacity. Did she truly think Jamie didn’t know what she was doing? Or worse, did she think of Jamie as some kind of green rookie?

“My question, Ms. Frazee, is where and when Bunny and Piper would want to answer them?”

“No!” Siena’s response was too quick—too sharp.

Despite the frustration that had been building inside Jamie over the entire conversation, Jamie smiled.

“Have you asked them yet?” Jamie wouldn’t let Siena keep all this control. It was sexy, but Jamie wouldn’t let that distract her from taking back the reins. The idea of fighting over them gave Jamie a new thrill.

“If you want this interview, Ms. Kettlehouse, then all questions must be approved by myself. And these are not them. There are several here that will not be allowed to be asked of my clients.”

“Fine.” Jamie huffed. The way Siena could have her emotions pinballing made Jamie’s head spin. “If we set a date for the interview, I can finalize the questions over email before then.”

“I’m not finalizing anything, especially a date and time for an interview with my clients, until all questions are seen and authorized. Approved. By. Me.” Siena’s voice gave no room for argument.

Jamie loved the challenge. She sat down on the uncomfortable green excuse for a sitting bench in the building’s foyer and crossed her legs.

“Then let’s settle them.” Jamie put the tray with the coffees on the chair next to her and leaned forward, her elbow on top of her knee.

The sound of paper flicking came through the phone line.

“I can meet you in a few days. Friday at two. Does that work for you?”

“Oh my, Ms. Frazee.” Jamie really was enjoying this far too much. Especially considering how frustrating it also was. “If I didn’t know better, I might be tempted to think you were just trying to spend more time with me.”

A beat of silence gave Jamie all she needed to know—that her words had, at the very least, knocked Siena off her sure footing—at least a little.

“Are you available or not?” Siena’s voice was strained, and what Jamie would have given to see her face in that moment, to be able to see her warring with her own mixed emotions.

“For you, always,” Jamie purred out, surprising even herself with the ease and truth she felt behind them.

“Fantastic.” Siena coughed into the phone as though having to clear her throat. “I’ll send through the details of where we can meet, and I’ll see you then, Jamie.”

“Looking forward to it,” Jamie replied, even though the sound of the phone being hung up already echoed in her ear.

For a moment she remained at her seat, despite how uncomfortable it was. She wanted to feel in control of this entire situation but never in her adult life had she felt so at the mercy of others.

With a determined huff, she grabbed the tray of coffee and headed back upstairs.

She would get these questions sorted and spend the catch-up with Siena finding out just how much she could get the woman to falter in her professionalism.