+TYPED OUT-

BETWEEN HIS LINES

Unbelievable, Meredith thought as she remembered what he said when he hired her.

"Please don't hesitate to intervene if I stray away from my schedule. I have zero notion of time when I'm in a discussion."

Now the man told her off, the change was too sudden, and Meredith had a little idea from where it seeped. Seeing Kenneth gone the night before, the woman immediately left the restaurant. Meredith took the same route as the man, and she fell upon the moment where he covered Mondays' head with the umbrella.

Meredith followed them to the hotel, where they entered together. Unfortunately, her booking was elsewhereㅡthe hotel privileged the fair's authors. The teams accompanying them booked in various hotels nearby. Meredith didn't know what happened next, and she imagined the worse. Kenneths' mood was excellent when she met him that morning. She noticed how his eyes kept drifting across to Mondays' booth as though he awaited her arrival. Something happened, and Meredith had to pluck the root before a plant sprouted.

"Monday, what's wrong? I can see you're flustered," Ben said as he knelt next to her desk.

"It's nothing, Ben," the woman said, getting up. She needed a cigarette.

"Where are you going?" Ben yelled as the woman left their booth.

"I need some air," Monday replied without looking back.

She rushed to the terrace, hoping to find someone who could spare her a cigarette.

Things were looking up thought the woman who took the cigarette another exhibitor gave to her.

The nicotine dose was strong; Monday coughed. She pulled less the second time and let the vipers out, hoping her troubles would get carried away with it. She closed her eyes and opened them straight away; the images were vivid. Monday could almost feel his touch and hear his heavy breathing. Kenneth made her come so hard her heart seemed to throb through her knickers just with her mind's replay.

"Shit."

This infatuated state of mind was what Monday dreaded. The woman hated the torment of the visions of their night together. She crushed the cigarette butt in the ash urn and went down to the toilets. She was on the seat when she heard the toilets door open, and the sound of heels and squeaky sneakers neared.

"I can't wait for the prize announcement."

"The competition is stiff this year. There's a lot more of those desperate housewives writers and millennials."

Many enjoyed associating the terms with online writers who got published. Hence, Mondays' category of writers.

"I swear if one of those books wins, I'll do a petition. The committee can't allow such a thing."

"Some have a pretty good chance, though. Especially Dayé Yeni, I heard even Kenneth Mosely reads her books."

"Speaking of which, Micheal said he saw them enter Four Knights together."

"Pff, some women would do anything to get pointers. Everyone knows the committee will ask his opinion."

The comment was Mondays' cue. She came out of the toilets and pushed through the two women despite the vast space which allowed her to contour them. Monday began to wash her hands while looking at them in the mirror," don't mind me. You can carry on bitching."

One woman cleared her throat while the other slicked her hair back.

Monday took her time to dry her hands and watched as the older one of the women entered a toilet while the other approached the mirror to retouch her makeup.