Slightly Askew

Chapter 1

Boring. Dull. Repetitive. Stale. Uninteresting. Bland.

Those were all words used when describing my latest article in Po!son, the magazine industry that I worked for.

I dropped my head in my hands, massaging my temples with my fingertips. I knew that my stories could be so much better, I was just... uninspired.

“Autumn!”

I snapped to attention when I heard my name being called, Kadence standing outside my office with a Gucci purse dangling from her wrist. Her fiery tendrils were slicked off her forehead into a tight ponytail and purple eyeliner was drawn over the lids of her green eyes.

“Hey,” I responded, straightening in my seat.

“Mr. Ambler said he needs you,” she shifted her weight to her other foot, causing her blazer to crinkle up on one side.

Nausea swept through me like a tornado, my face going slack. Why would my boss need me?

“O-okay,” I stuttered, scrambling up from my chair and successfully knocking my stack of paperwork onto the floor. Kadence giggled as she walked away, tutting her head at my clumsiness.

Quickly grabbing the mess off the floor and tossing it back onto my desk, I flattened out the front of my pencil skirt and ruffled a few of my blonde locks with my fingers.

People were busy typing as I sulked towards the office in the back of the building, where a sign reading ‘Toni Ambler’ was mounted beside the door. I knocked on the dark mahogany, waiting patiently for him to invite me in.

“Who is it?” his rough voice sounded through the walls.

My fingers twirled a tress of hair around in nervous habit as I responded, “It's Autumn Brinley, Mister... sir?”

Tone it down Autumn, Jesus!

“Oh,” his tone became more more chipper, “Come in.”

Pushing my anxiety to the back of my mind, I twisted the brass nob, stepping into his sleek office.

“Shut the door, please,” he asked, taking a long sip out of a crystal glass and then gently setting the glass back onto his desk. I did as requested, closing the door behind me and taking a seat in one of the leather chairs perched in front of his oversized, cherry-wood desk.

He licked his lips, reclining in his seat and giving me a wary glance. Dread began to build in my stomach as he remained silent, eyes roaming over my face.

“Autumn,” he smiled at me, crinkles forming around his eyes as he smiled.

I shyly smiled back, picking at the dark polish that coated my fingernails. He was acting nice, so maybe that was a good thing. Maybe I was getting a raise or something.

“Would you like a drink?” he offered, holding a bottle of Gin up for me to see. I politely declined, shaking my head and he shrugged, pouring more for himself.

After gulping down an excessive amount of alcohol, he wiped the corners of his mouth and leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. The heavy scent of sweat emitted from his body and I almost cringed.

“There was something I needed to talk to you about,” he stated the obvious and I nodded, neatly folding my hands in my lap. He took another gulp and pinched his eyes closed.

Drinking at work seemed incredibly inappropriate if you asked me, but who was I to question the man who signed my paycheck. Obviously he was doing something right, because he was the CEO of the company.