Written in the (Evening) Stars

Challenge Accepted

With the aftermath of Sterling Enterprises deciding to move on from our offer, my time at work seemed to become increasingly aggravating. Savannah was insistent that I still couldn't have my romance column back and insisted on shoving me into filler articles for the paper. There were only so many times I could "willingly" write about a new small business opening in the city or just outside of it.

"I don't understand what's so bad about my column," I complained to Savannah one night when we got back home from work. "I know it wasn't my best work, but I was answering questions for people, wasn't I?"

"Yeah, in the most passive-aggressive way possible," Savannah had replied with a sigh. "I don't think your rant on ghosting someone in your last column was really doing anyone any good."

"It made me feel better," I grumbled.

"And that's the problem," Savannah said, turning to me as she attempted to make dinner for the night. "You were writing for yourself, which is fine, but it wasn't what the column needs. It needs that classic Bee happy ray of sunshine vibe that you were giving each week. Not everything had to be doom and gloom like you were making it out to be."

"I didn't even want to work for the paper, you know," I snapped in response. "That was never my dream or what I wanted to do with my life. It was yours." Savannah could only give me a sad smile in response. We had gone over it a million and one times, me crying to Savannah about how lost I had felt until her plan had come up.

"I know," she said quietly before pulling me into a hug. "I know, Bee."

I shook the memory from my mind, trying to focus on the article I was supposed to be writing but just couldn't. I wasn't even entirely sure what it was supposed to be about, which I didn't exactly like to admit, but even if I did, I don't think it would really be any easier. Instead, I just continued to watch the cursor blink blink blink away at me.

If I really thought about it and felt like pretending, it was like the cursor was mocking me. It just continued to blink continually, never stopping, as if to say, "Ha! You suck at this!" The more I thought about it, the more I found myself getting annoyed.

It. Wasn't. Fair.

"Well, well, well," I heard someone say from behind me. I didn't even bother masking the aggravated noise that I made. "Looks like someone can't write an article again."

"Oh, shut up, Vincent," I said, spinning around in my chair to meet the gaze of the not-so-charming Vinny van Sand. He stood leaning against the empty desk next to me, arms crossed looking as cool as could be. He held something in his hand, but I couldn't figure out what it was, nor did I care. I couldn't help but smirk when I noticed his disappear at the mention of his full name. If there was one thing Vinny absolutely hated, it was being called Vincent. "At least I didn't get stood up for three dates in a row, all with different people. And what was that I heard about a fourth?"

I was hoping it would be enough to get Vinny to leave me alone, but he rolled his eyes at me and stepped up to my desk. He unfurled the rolled object in his hand and dropped it on my desk.

"Thought you might be interested in this," Vinny said, jamming a finger down hard on what was clearly the Mon Cheri, a magazine that Savannah absolutely adored. "Seems like they got their claws into Sterling."

I pulled a face as I looked at Vinny, and nearly let out a growl when I looked down and saw what he was actually pointing at. Right on the front cover was an almost paparazzi like shot of Blaine Sterling leaving his office building looking smug as could be. If I didn't know any better, he was wearing the exact outfit that he wore when I met him.