Untitled Book, Chapter Two

Chapter Two
Ally took the elevator up to Jackson Hill’s office. She liked elevators. Easy to use and quick. Quick was a necessity when she was very nearly late.
Ally quickly sat down at her desk. Thank God. Hill hadn’t noticed she was gone.
Jackson Hill was the head of a large publishing firm. When Ally occasionally signed up for one of New York City’s speed-dating programs (she never met anybody and generally looked down on anybody who tried them, but sometimes you get bored and think oh screw it I’ll give it a go and then feel like a moron when you don’t find anybody and where was she oh yeah speed-dating), men would say “oh, that must be great, you must get paid a lot and meet lots of interesting people”. And Ally would smile and nod and pretend yes they were right. In reality, they were dead wrong.
Yes, Ally got paid a good deal. And that was nice; it meant she could afford a good flat, which was ridiculously difficult in NYC. But she never really got to meet interesting people- the important ones Hill would fly out to meet, and everybody else was people wanted to get dull books out, educational books. And while Ally appreciated the need for educational books, it was never particularly interesting to watch the process to get them published.
And Hill was a bastard at heart. Ally was the secretary that had lasted the longest for him at one year. All the others had been fired or quit. Ally would sometimes be on the verge of quitting, but she’d tough it out. The pay was too good.
“SMITH!” Ally sighed, and not for the first time wondered if other publishing firms wanted secretaries. She’d met some high-up people in publishing that were quite nice. Maybe she could see if they wanted a secretary.
Ally got up and walked into Hill’s office. She stood in front of his desk, hands clasped behind her back, feeling like a naughty schoolgirl. “Yes, sir, what did you need?”
Jackson Hill was what many women and a certain amount of men considered very attractive. He had dark black hair and a thin mustache. Blue eyes watched Ally keenly, eyebrows drawing a high forehead down tightly. Ally had to admit the man was handsome. In fact, she’d had a minor interest in him when she first started working at Hill and Co. However, the appeal had gone down in a few hours after she became more familiar with his personality.
“I’ve got a young woman coming in, Amelia Blair. She represents a very large publishing firm. When she gets here, tell her I have a very important phone call and I’ll be right with her in a few minutes.”
“Yes, sir. Who will you be on the phone with, sir, in case she asks?”
“I’m not actually going to be on the phone, you stupid cow. It’ll make her nervous. Maybe I’m on the phone with someone more important, someone who’s offering me more money. Don’t see why I’m explaining it to you, seeing as you don’t have enough brains to understand.”
Ally counted to ten silently in her head. She didn’t know why. It never helped. “Yes, sir. Sorry, sir.”
“Scram.”
Ally returned to her desk, and sat in front of her computer, bored. She flipped through some papers from yesterday. Just doodles. One of them made her pause. It was a rough sketch of a boy with neat dark hair and sharp eyes. Scrawled beneath it was the name “Jude”.
Jude. God, it had been so long since she thought about Jude. She’d had a dream about him last night. The same dream- she was seven, and the monsters were coming to get her, but then Jude appeared, and all the monsters were held at bay, and everything was alright.
Jude wasn’t real, though. Jude had just been a figment of her imagination, a creation of her seven year old brain. A creation it had taken her an embarrassingly long time to let go of.
“Excuse me,” a cool voice said. Ally hastily slid her drawing under other papers and looked up. “Yes, can I help you?”
“Yes, I’m Amelia Blair, Mr. Hill is expecting me.”
“Oh, of course, Ms. Blair. Yes, Mr. Hill is expecting you, he’s on the phone currently, I’ll let him know that you’re here in a few minutes. Would you like to take a seat?”
“Yeah, sure.” She sat down, and Ally pretended to be very busy with her laptop, while actually sneaking looks at Ms. Blair.
She was very pretty, jet black hair pulled into a bun at the back of her head. She was dressed in a neat black skirt and shirt, and her shoes looked like designer. Ally couldn’t really see the color of her eyes, but from what she could see in glimpses, they appeared to be gray.
Ally could no longer find any more reasons to be interested in the laptop and tried to make small talk with Ms. Blair. Some people who came in were very good with small talk.
“So, you’re from a very big publishing firm, is that it?”
Ms. Blair glanced at her and put on a small, fake smile. “Yes, a very popular one in Britain.”
“Oh, I noticed your accent, I wondered about that. Where in Britain are you from?”
“I grew up in Wales. I’ve adopted a London accent.”
“Ah, yes.” Though Ally hadn’t lived in or seen England for many years, shreds of a healthy English disdain for the people of Wales remained, and she struggled to keep it out of her voice. “I come from London, myself. Moved here when I was 11.”
“Fascinating.” Ms. Blair’s voice was slightly bored. Ally tried to change the subject. “So, have you published any books I’ve heard of?”
Ms. Blair smirked slightly. “I doubt it.”
“What sort of books?”
“Mainly educational books, books on learning and such. I doubt you’d have heard of any of them.”
“Ah.” Feeling vaguely insulted, she reached over and pressed an intercom. “Mr. Hill? Ms. Blair had arrived, sir.”
“Hmm? Hang on, Jamie. What? Oh, yes, Ms. Blair. Send her in.”
“Yes, sir.” Ally nodded towards the door, and Ms. Blair got up and walked into Hill’s office, closing the door almost silently.
Ally sighed and looked for the solitaire icon on her laptop.
Roughly fifteen minutes, the door opened again, and both Hill and Ms. Blair walked out. Ally closed her laptop as Hill said
“So delighted you could invest in us, Ms. Blair, so thrilled you’ve taken an interest-“
“Thank you for taking me on.” Behind the polite façade, Ally could see the contempt for Hill’s blatant toadying, and despite herself, Ally felt a grudging respect for Ms. Blair that she saw through Hill’s charming manner to what was beneath.
“How could I not, Ms. Blair? Smith, saltwater, now.” Ally stood up and handed him a bottle of water, which he downed.
Hill had the curious habit to drink at least eight bottles of saltwater every day. Ally and some of the interns had a pool going on how long it was gonna take for the salt to turn him into a dry withered old prune. The rest declined, making the point that you wouldn’t be able to tell the difference when it happened.
“Yes, well, thank you anyway. Don’t worry about me- I can show myself out.”
“Thank you again, Ms. Blair, I look forward to staying in touch.” Hill walked back into his office. Ally sat back down, chucking the bottle that Hill had left on her desk in the wastebasket in the corner. A year of this had made her a professional.
Ms. Blair was almost at the door when she paused and half-turned to Ally. “Does Mr. Hill always drink saltwater?”
Ally was surprised by the question. “Yes, usually eight bottles a day.”
“Hmm.” Ms. Blair walked out of the office. Ally watched her go, a little puzzled. Then she sighed, and returned to her solitaire game.