People are supposed to have rules in life. Otherwise, life would be chaotic. Rules kept things moving smoothly. 

While, some rules could be bent, based on circumstances, others shouldn't. 

On that midsummer morning, while I stood inside my boss's office and watched the sunlit New York skyline, opposite his desk, I didn't know the rules I held dearly to me were about to be broken.

Ethan McEntire, my Boss and the Editor-in-Chief of our fashion and entertainment magazine - Red Dress - had displayed his displeasure with my writing for a couple of months now.

This wasn't the first time that I was summoned to his office.

While I scanned the photo-less-photo frame on his desk, the half-drunk cup of americano and my latest submission, all scribbled in red and green, I knew Ethan's lid of patience was about to blow up.

"This isn't what I expected, Maeve," he said as he leaned back on his lumbar supporting chair and rubbed the bridge of his perfect nose. "I wanted you to write about the distress that women feel when they are forced to confront their male colleagues at the workplace."

"That's what I've written."

I pointed at my submission, which now appeared like someone smeared it with blood.

Thanks to Ethan's editing, my writing resembled less black ink on white paper and more like a scene from World War II.

"What you've written is how easy it is for women and difficult for some others." Ethan breathed into his recoiled fist. "I wanted you to write the confrontation. The prior anxiety woman face before and the exhilaration after."

"And what's wrong with what I wrote?"

His eyebrows bridged.

"All of it is wrong, Maeve. I wanted a piece where, when a woman reads it, she'd be like - yes... this is what I should do. This writer knows what I undergo daily while facing someone whom they want to strangle."

His face crumpled and the lines on his forehead deepened.

"What you gave me, Maeve is something out of a fairy tale." He nodded to himself. "Have you never confronted any male colleague? Ever?"

"I have. And that's you. I can never seem to please you."

"That's because I'm your boss and I want you to strive for perfection. Nothing less."

I fell on the chair, resting my head between my palms. Not that Ethan was stating anything wrong, the part about perfection for him was different from the perfection I strove for.

Ethan was thrust into power when our former Editor quit due to health reasons. Ethan's father knew the right people and pulled some strings.

So, the recluse journalist who wrote about world and women's issues was forced to take up the job of being our Editor-in-Chief.

If you think money can buy happiness, then you're absolutely wrong.

As far as Ethan was concerned, money could buy him anything but his freedom. It was harder on him when our sister company - Black Tuxedo - was doing everything in its power to deliver better writing and podcast content.

I'd never seen Ethan annoyed or angry before today. Since the time our parent company announced the takeover of an independent podcast channel 'Black Tuxedo', everything had turned upside down.

"Maeve, help me out here. I know you're one of those writers who feel inspired daily. You've always delivered amazing content for me."

There was a certain concern in Ethan's tone like he was indirectly warning me.

The way his angular jawline twitched when he scanned my writing and his blue eyes closed for a brief second, narrated it was doomsday for me.

"I'll bring you a fresh draft and you can-" I began.

"I'm holding off on this assignment. I want you to write another one. And it's urgent."

How was this man, who a brief second ago was loading his verbal gun to display his displeasure, now handing me a new assignment?

"Ethan, I can do the rewriting. Please, I want to."

"And I said the other assignment is a priority."

There was no arguing with the Ice-Man.

Ethan was many things to many people in this office. A mentor, a style guru but when it came to being friends, he only had one - Denver - his brother.

In my three years of working at Red Dress, I was unable to ever befriend Ethan.

"Fine. Tell me what's the new assignment?"

"It's a fluff piece for our Woman's Dating segment."

The moment those words fell out of his mouth, a crooked smile appeared on his face. His fair tone was dusted with a shade of pink like he was secretly enjoying torturing me.

"Ethan, we had a deal. I'd not have to write any fluff piece and you'd never make me."

"That was when you were delivering content. Now you're not."

"I am delivering. I just ask for a little time. I'll get this confrontation piece to perfection."

Ethan held his hand in the air for a brief second, pausing my rant. My mouth dried when he moved across from his desk and stood in front of me.

A six-foot-tall man, he peered down at me while I tried remembering the details of the black and grey carpet inside his office.

Fuck

"Maeve, it's not a punishment."

"It sure feels like one."

"Trust me, if I really wanted to punish you, I'd have made you taste test food from the newly opened chain of restaurants around here."

"You wouldn't dare, Ethan." The courage I never thought I had soared from the deepest part of my gut. "You know how important my pieces have been to our magazine. Heck, I've been awarded for it."

Now, I was fending for my work.

"I can't help you here. I really can't."

There were moments in life when you would know you were about to lose. Arguments, people and whatnot.

In that standoff Ethan and I had, I knew I had lost. I didn't have a standing. I wasn't able to deliver my pieces like before.

"Fine, what's the new assignment." My chest embraced my chin, an acceptance of defeat.

"You've to interview three men in your life that shaped your life."

"Done." The answer flowed before my brain could process the task.

"Take your time." His voice lowered. "I want you to really think about the people and then write. After you interview them."

I already had in mind who those men could be. My father and my brother. I'd just have to pick a third man. That could be my best friend.

"By when do you want it?"

Ethan's head tilted softly to the side. He slid his hands into his well-tailored navy-blue pants as he moved back and leaned over his desk, arms crossed over his chest.

There was something sinister, something dark that danced in his blue eyes.

Once before, I'd seen that look. Only once. Before we'd acquired Black Tuxedo when Ethan met the podcast creator - Laurel Williams - he had that same look.

"What's the catch, Ethan?" I should have known better and let him finish. "It's not the whole assignment, isn't it? There's more, right?"

He nodded. Then sighed. Looking back to his desk, he picked up a sheet of paper and read over something, murmuring to himself as the corner of his lip curved up.

"You're right, there's more."

"What does the sheet say?" I asked.

"It says that the men cannot be related to you. That means-"

"Not my father. And not my brother."

"Hmm." As he moved back to his chair, holding its backrest and peering outside the window.

I could feel him contemplating his next words. I could hear the soft creaks of his mind wheels churning, perhaps trying to deliver the news in the worst possible way.

"Please get it over with. This day can't get any worse, Ethan."

Ethan turned, smiling at me. "Oh, but it's only beginning. And it's not even ten in the morning."

"That itself says that you should stop torturing me and tell me everything I need to know about this assignment."

"Fine. No more games. I want you to interview three..." He looked up to the roof and back at me. That smile of his, for which our entire woman staff was ready to toss away their husbands and boyfriends, appeared. "You have to interview five men."

"Fii...ve... Fine..."

"They cannot be related. And they have to be men you've dated in the past."

"What..."

The ground beneath me shook.

Or perhaps our building became the sole structure in the entire New York to have been hit by an earthquake.

I held the back of the nearest chair, trying to breathe in a normal manner. "You know I can't do that, right? I don't want to contact some of those people."

"That's the assignment."

"Well change it. I know you have the power to change it. I've seen you fight for other writers all the time. When they weren't comfortable in writing what you wanted them to write."

"This assignment has come from above, Maeve. It's above my pay grade. And you know I'd fight for all of you but only if I'm convinced that something about the piece would cost you your life. of your mental peace."

It may as well.

Writing about the past that I hid for so long and from almost everyone wasn't something I wanted to face. Much less write about.

"How about this?" Ethan's words pumped a break in my train of thought. "I know you don't shy away from any dare."

I wasn't stupid to take notice of where this conversation was going. But anything to get me out of the misery of confronting men from my past was better.

I'd even jump off this 46th-floor window without any safety if that would convince Ethan to change my assignment.

I know. I know. That would be suicidal but I didn't have any other choice.

"What's the dare?"

"You take this assignment. I dare you to take this and execute it with perfection. And if you win, I'll give you the contract for first acceptance on all our assignments. And you know what that means."

Whatever I wanted to write, I could.

For a brief moment, I forgot what I was worried about. The allure of the future shone so brightly, that it blinded me to see where I was heading.

"Done." I extended my arm for Ethan to take. "You just ensure that my contract is ready by the time I'm done writing this assignment."

"You have my word. It would be there for your signing when you submit the final, edited version."

We shook hands.

I walked out to my office.

You know how people would say they felt dizzy upon standing up quickly? I felt the same.

Not that I was sitting inside Ethan's office but this dreadful Monday, the dare Ethan posed and the things that were at stake all came rushing to me.

I wasn't ready to pick up the phone and start calling men in my life who had a profound influence on me. Hell, I wasn't even sure if any of them would be up for the interview.

And what would I say over the call?

Hello, this is Maeve, the girl that dumped you. Please help save my job.

My gut began rumbling. My chest felt as if someone stretched it across. Even inside the air-conditioned building, I felt warm. My crisp blue shirt formed a second skin over my back.

Maybe it was nerves.

Or maybe, just maybe, it was the thought of calling him that made me feel as if I'd puke out every organ inside my body.

"Maeve...I've been calling your name for so long..."

My ears registered the sweet voice of Denver McEntire.

Ethan's brother and our company's in-house therapist, who spearheaded the mental wellness section of our magazine.

'Hi... sorry I didn't hear you."

I turned to the smiling, cheerful face of Denver who always appeared as if he swallowed the sun.

Unlike Ethan and his brooding looks and attitude, Denver was happy. He was my golden retriever in a human form.

"How did it go?" He pointed towards Ethan's office. "What did Ethan say?"

"It was bad, Denny. Absolute horrible shit."

"He didn't ask you to rewrite it?"

"No. Rewriting would have been a boon for me. This is a curse."

Pulling me towards the corner and into his office, Denver shut the door behind us.

"Tell me. Everyone's worried. Ethan never calls any writer for discussion on a Monday."

It was true. Our Editor-in-Chief was very considerate in his own way.

He'd break any bad news on Fridays. Although the staff hated it then, over time they realized it was his way of giving us time to process it. While also destroying our weekends.

Today, Ethan set precedence for something new.

Something he'd have never done had half his attention not been diverted by the Black Tuxedo's piece about how all major Editors-in-Chief have been men. And how women face issues in getting help from them.

"I don't know why but he gave me a new assignment. I've to interview five men from my past, who, in their own ways shaped me as to what I am today."

"Why are we promoting how men shape a woman's life in this era?" Denver's voice tipped. He took a short breath, exhaling before looking at me. "I don't know what tasks Ethan's supervisors and giving him but he's not being himself these days."

I pointed at my blank notepad as if Denver would understand what I wanted to jot down inside Ethan's office but couldn't.

"Anyways. I've had a verbal deal with him. If I execute it to perfection, he'd give me the 'right of first acceptance' for all future assignments."

"Really." Denver came close and held my shoulders. gently nudging me. "Then whatever it is you've to face, I hope you face it with a smile."

While I did smile and we chatted for a little more time, coming up with a plan to track and contact my exes, at the back of my mind, I only had one thought.

Was I ready to break the rule about not inviting the past into my life?

And would that past be willing to forgive me?

~

Did you like this chapter?

Comment, emoji spam or just heart this chapter and let me know.

Also, what do you think Maeve is so worried about in calling her exes?

Is there someone special whom she's hiding from?

Comment and let me know :)