Page 9 of The Money Shot

The soft hum of the office surrounded me like a static cocoon as I sat at my cubicle, skimming through spreadsheets and trying to ignore the relentless tick of the clock. The morning caffeine rush of energy had long since faded, replaced by the quiet monotony of keystrokes and the occasional rustle of paper. I reached for my mug, only to find it empty. Great. Another reason to head to the break room and stall for five minutes.

Before I could even push back my chair, my phone rang, the sharp sound making me wince. I glanced at the screen. Andrea Vaughn. I let out a sigh, my stomach sinking with that familiar anxiety. Had I forgotten to CC her on something? Missed a deadline I didn’t even know existed? I loosened my tie slightly, then straightened it with a resolve that felt half-hearted.

“Hello, Jack here,” I answered, trying to sound more confident than I felt.

“Jack, can you come to my office? Now?” Andrea’s voice was as even and clipped as ever. There was no hint of warmth, but there never really was. I nodded out of habit, forgetting she couldn’t see me.

“Of course, be right there.”

The walk to her office felt longer than usual, my mind cycling through every project I’d worked on, trying to pinpoint what I could have done wrong. I passed a few coworkers who gave polite nods or quick glances, but I barely registered them. When I reached Andrea’s office, the door was open, and she was busy scribbling something into a planner that looked older than some of my coworkers.

“Close the door, Jack. Come in.”

I did as she asked, hearing the click of the door behind me. Andrea was an older woman in her fifties, sharp eyes framed by stylish glasses that perched on the bridge of her nose. Her suit was tailored perfectly, not a wrinkle or out-of-place button. If professionalism had a mascot, it would be Andrea Vaughn.

“Jack,” she said, finally looking up. The lines on her face softened, but only slightly. “I wanted to talk to you about your work lately. You’ve been thorough and reliable. I appreciate that.”

I blinked. A compliment from Andrea wasn’t unheard of, but it was rare enough that I felt the tension in my shoulders ease a fraction. “Thank you.”

She nodded briskly. “That said, your last appointment of the day has canceled. I thought you might appreciate leaving early.”

Relief bubbled up, but before I could respond, she held up a hand. “However, I need a favor. Discreetly, of course.” She reached for a notepad and scribbled down a sequence of numbers and letters—an access code, I assumed—and slid it across the desk toward me. “I want you to look over the files for one of your coworker’s clients. Quietly. I have concerns about their work, and I’d like your opinion on it.”

A backhanded compliment if there ever was one. She trusted me more than the colleague in question, which should have been flattering, but I could feel the added pressure settle on my chestlike a weight. Still, I nodded, taking the slip of paper and tucking it into my pocket.

“I’ll go through the files and email you my thoughts before the end of the day.”

“Good.” She gave a tight smile, one that barely reached her eyes. “I appreciate your discretion, Jack.”

“Of course. And thanks for letting me head out early,” I said, stepping back toward the door.

Her eyes were already back on her planner. “Don’t make me regret it.”

The subway car rattled as it sped along the tracks, the rhythmic clatter echoing in my ears while I leaned back against the cold metal pole. The early afternoon crowd was sparse, a few commuters scattered around, reading or staring at their phones with glazed-over eyes. I pulled mine out, thumbs tapping out a quick message to Liam:

Got out early. Don’t wait for me at the station—I’m heading home now.

I sent it off and watched as the three dots popped up almost immediately before disappearing. Liam was probably buried in work or chatting with a coworker. I slipped my phone back into my pocket and focused on the scenery flashing by outside; the concrete blur punctuated by occasional streaks of sunlight.

When the train slowed to a stop at my station, I stood up and stepped off, the crisp fall air hitting me the moment I emerged onto the street. It was one of those perfect September afternoons, where the sun felt warm against my skin, but the breeze carried a cool bite. Orange and red leaves swirled at myfeet, crunching under my shoes as I started the familiar walk home.

Then nostalgia crept up on me unexpectedly. There was something about this time of year that took me back to college, back to afternoons spent sprawled on the grass with Liam, books open but barely touched as we talked about everything and nothing. We’d end those evenings at the campus bar, nursing beers, and laughing until our sides hurt. Back then, life felt limitless, uncomplicated. Now, the weight of schedules, deadlines, and paychecks had wrapped itself around me, anchoring me firmly in adulthood.

I reached my building, shaking off the wistfulness as I pushed through the heavy front door. Dimitri nodded in acknowledgment as I walked by.

“Hey, Jack!” Vanessa’s voice rang out before I saw her. She popped out from behind the front desk, cherry-red hair catching the light. She looked like she’d just stepped out of a vintage fashion magazine, a vibrant wrap dress clinging to her curves. “Thanks for that lasagna last night,” she said, flashing a grin. “You two should open a restaurant with how good that was.”

“It was nothing,” I said, rubbing the back of my neck. “We always end up making too much food, anyway.”

“Well, keep the leftovers coming, sweetie. Mr. Grey is getting spoiled by all the bits I sneak him.” Her eyes sparkled at the mention of her cat, and I laughed.

“Actually, speaking of food, Bradley is planning a housewarming party this weekend. You should come by if you’re free.”

Her eyes widened, the mischievous glint growing. “Oh, you bet I will. Will all the young men be as handsome as you?”

I flushed, then stammered out, “Uh, I’m sure there’ll be plenty of... people. Anyway, I should—”

“Go on, then,” she waved her hand. “Don’t let me keep you. But mark me down as a yes, with bells on.”

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