Bylines & Deadlines. Kimberly Vinje

handle it.”

      “Could this just be one of those mid-life crisis things they’re always talking about,” she asked timidly. He laughed.

      “I don’t think so. I don’t have an urge to buy a red sports car or pick up random women.”

      “Oh. Wouldn’t you rather have a sports car than me,” she asked hopefully. “I’m really not that great. I sweat and can’t cook.” Had she not had so much wine, she was sure the last part would have remained just a thought. His smile never faded.

      “No sports cars,” he said, but the smile was losing its hold on his lips. “Are you involved with one of the Sports guys?”

      “Oh! No!” she laughed and then wondered if he had seen her leave the holiday party with one of them. She decided not to mention it. “I just toy with those guys because I can, and it’s fun. They’re the only ones in the building who are nice to me. Since we’re being honest, I kind of like the attention.”

      “Okay,” the smile returned. She sat there quietly looking at the wine glass. “Now what’s going through that amazing mind of yours?”

      “You mean amazingly intoxicated, don’t you? Well, I’m sure Sober Kristine would come up with a fantastically clever answer. But since she seems to have taken the night off, Drunk Kristine has mixed thoughts. Part of her wants to rip your clothes off and part of her is scared as crap and wants to run out of here,” she said using her name in the third person to distance herself from the situation. “Neither of us wants to be a home wrecker, though.”

      “Do I get a vote,” he said slyly, and they both laughed uncomfortably. “Look, Em and I weren’t going to work out whether or not you came into my life. There was a time when I thought she’s what I wanted. But she’s too… perfect. The kids can’t be kids in her house, because she’s afraid they’ll ruin her carpet. She spends hours trying to look perfect, make the kids look perfect, the house look perfect and put on a show for everyone. Want to know what she said when I told her I was moving out?” Kristine shrugged. This was a lot of personal information to handle at one time. “’What will our friends think?’ That’s what she said. Can you believe that? Not ‘what about the girls?’ She was worried about outside appearances. We have different priorities.” Kristine felt a little uncomfortable and reached for the wine glass again.

      “I think I need to sleep on this,” she said. “I mean, I’ve always thought you were hot, and I’ve always had my little office fantasy about you, me and your desk, but I never thought I’d be sitting here like this,” she said.

      “Can I kiss you?” he asked putting his hand on her face. His hand was big and warm, and it felt like she could fall asleep with his hand on her face. This was crossing a line she wasn’t sure she should. She closed her eyes and nodded tentatively. She waited in anticipation. She could feel him shifting to get a better angle. She wanted to open her eyes, but she couldn’t. She felt him lift her chin and noticed how heavy she was breathing. She was a little relieved she was remembering to breathe at all. Then it happened. His lips touched hers gently at first. She returned his kiss. She started to want more, and his lips moved from hers. He kissed her cheeks and her forehead. He stood up, and she was still sitting there with her eyes closed. She slowly opened them.

      “Good gravy,” she whispered. He laughed out loud. He held out a hand, and she took it. He helped her to her feet, walked her around the corner and down the hall. She began to feel excitement build. He stopped outside an open door and flipped on a light within the room.

      “This is your room,” he said. She looked in and then looked at him confused. “Sleep on it. You’ve had a lot to absorb this evening. Sleep well. I promise I’ll keep you safe.”

      “But,” she said, and he gently led her into the room by placing a hand on her back and moving her toward the bed.

      “I’ll be across the hall,” he said. “If you need anything, you know where to find me.” He closed the door, and she was alone in his spare bedroom staring at the closed door. She kicked off her black heels and climbed into bed fully clothed. She grabbed her cell phone and called Derrick.

      “Hello?”

      “Hey. It’s Kristine. What are you doing?”

      “Reading Cosmo.”

      “Are you at work?”

      “Of course. This is where I do all my reading. Slow night. No one wants to shoot anyone tonight. Are you drunk?”

      “Yes.”

      “Are you naked in a strange man’s bed?”

      “No and kind of.”

      “Why not and who?”

      “Because and Will.”

      “The Chief Editor guy?” he blurted, and she heard the hard binding of the magazine hit the desk or counter where Derrick sat.

      “Editor-in-Chief and yes. I’m in his spare room. He’s helping me with a tricky story, but he did tell me he likes me.”

      “So why are you in the spare room?”

      “I’m thinking.”

      “About what? You’ve been hot for him for as long as I’ve known you.”

      “He’s my married boss,” she said.

      “When was the last time you let yourself do something crazy? Buying purple lipstick that you never wear doesn’t count as crazy! Use the alcohol as an excuse to get naked and jump him,” Derrick said sounding more excited by the prospect than she could muster for herself.

      “But that could screw up my job. Look, I’m hanging up before he wonders who I’m talking to in here,” she said. She could hear Derrick yelling, “Just do it!” as she closed the phone. She rolled over.

      “Sleep on it,” she whispered Will’s words as she drifted off to sleep.

       Chapter Three

      Kristine woke up with a headache and dry mouth. She looked at the big red numbers on the nightstand next to her - 7:34. She rolled on her back and rubbed her head. She didn’t remember dreaming…or did she? Had the conversation with Will been a dream? She got up, dug in one of the bags for clothes and a toothbrush and set out to find the bathroom. A half hour later, she emerged from the bathroom to the smell of coffee. Her hair was still wet and hung over the white T-shirt, which was tucked into the new jeans. The T-shirt was a little snug and the jeans were a little loose - not what she would have picked out for herself. She wondered which staff member Will had sent to buy the things for her. Probably Joyce, she thought. She went into the kitchen and felt the cold tile on her bare feet. Will was standing by the toaster.

      “Good morning,” he said and turned around to see her. She was still fighting a hangover and confusion from last night.

      “Good morning,” she said and leaned back against the counter. He was staring at her and smiling. “What?”

      “I don’t know that I’ve seen you with your hair down like that. I like it,” he said still grinning. She reached up and felt the cold, wet hair. “There’s juice in the refrigerator and the coffee will be ready in a minute. Make yourself at home.” The toast flipped up through the slits of the toaster, and Will turned his attention to buttering.

      “Thanks,” she said and walked to the refrigerator. It was stocked with a lot of healthy looking stuff. Her refrigerator had old mayonnaise, diet soda, a beer or two and left over Chinese take-out. She pulled out a bottle of water.

      “Come on. Breakfast is served,” he said and took a plate of toast and the coffee pot to the dining room. She followed him. They sat down. “You’re quiet. Not a morning person?”

      “Hung over,” she said and reached for a piece of toast. Will had already put some fresh