The Thorne at My Side

CHAPTER 4

“Consider this goodbye for now.”

AUSTIN

"How did you swing this?" Elizabeth Johnson, my assistant, asks me over the phone as I hold the door open for the two TMC interns I’ve got in tow with me today.

"Senator Williams wanted something scrubbed about his kid at a frat party. I did it for him with the expectation of access to his office for exclusives."

"You're the best in the biz." she says. Elizabeth has been with Thorne Media Corp for forty-three years. She started as a typist in the newspaper division and quickly rose in the ranks to the secretarial corps. She was the first woman at the company to hold the title of Executive Assistant because she appealed to HR for an updated role description when she worked for Dad.

When I joined the company after grad school, Dad had me in a middle management position for the first six months. I enjoyed that position, I learned a lot about how the work actually gets done around here. After those six months, I was basically Dad’s shadow for the next year. I attended all his meetings, sat in his office all day, and would even commute with him.

One early October commute, I slid into his car and Dad lowered his newspaper and said, “Today you’ll start as the head of the Business Development division. I’ll need to see a plan for a new revenue initiative by the end of the week.”

Then he flicked the paper back up in front of his face and we drove to the office in silence. Elizabeth was waiting for me in the lobby to show me to my office.

She got me settled, asked me a litany of questions ranging from my preferred brands of snacks and how I take my coffee, to my clothing sizes and my social media login credentials. Then she stood, told me I’d have lunch delivered at noon and that I had a meeting with my senior manager of business development, Kevin Young, in five.

"What else is there for me?" I ask as I stand with the two interns.

"There's been a podcast interview request. Actually it's a panel. But it came on the heels of the announcement this morning."

"What podcast?"

"For The Record," Elizabeth says. "You've been on it before."

"I remember. What time?"

"They want to start at 6:30 and it's a 90 minute session."

"Okay, book it. Is it in person?"

"Yes. I will have Greg ready with the car at 6:00."

"Thank you, Elizabeth."

She hangs up so I put my air pods into their case and turn to Annabel and Matt, the interns. I was able to schedule this tour during a Young People on the Hill event so we'll blend in. I wanted to give them a chance to see how the sausage gets made since they’ll be assisting editors and writers with intel from the Senate and House of Representatives. It feels a little odd to be here though; usually Thorne employees are only invited to the capitol building when under subpoena.

After a lifetime spent in D..C, and in the media world, the whole thing has lost its luster. I'm only thirty four but I've witnessed countless people cycle through this city. I've seen many more get chewed up and spat back out to whatever up or down state small town they're from. The turnover rate in Washington is high and it doesn't pay off to connect deeply or go all-in with anyone.

That thought brings TalkShopGirl to mind. She said she comes from a small town but it doesn’t feel like she got off the train in D.C. holding a suitcase and sporting wide open eyes, hoping to make it in the big city. But maybe she’s acclimated in her time here. D.C. can do that to a person.

After I've taken my two interns around to the offices our news magazine is friendly with, we turn a corner and I see a poster on an easel announcing a speech writing workshop as part of the event. I notice that it’s being hosted by Maggie Collins who was on the list of speech writers to watch. I’ll admit I haven’t looked closely into her, or any of the others, since AI Media is going to blow any human writing out of the water.

All the past speech writers or campaign managers I’ve met are old white guys so it’s interesting that Maggie Collins has made her way in this space. I guess with a female candidate it’s more likely. I don’t want that to sound misogynistic, it’s just how the world of politics works. It’s an old mens club.

Maybe Maggie is a college or law school friend of the senator’s. Maybe she pulled her up to the big leagues when she got the lead in the primaries. The poster says this event is co-hosted with a Sam Gibson, who I haven’t heard of, but I’d bet money he’s an old white guy.

It starts in a few minutes so we head inside and I find a spot along the back wall. There is chatter throughout the room as the kids around the table settle in. I would not consider myself old by any stretch of the imagination but being in a room with 20 year olds makes me feel ancient. When the room quiets down, I look up from my phone.

My world stutters to a halt and proceeds like a stop motion film. I watch, unblinking, as the most beautiful woman I've ever seen strides into the room. Her blonde hair shines around her face like a halo and I am hypnotized by the movement of her hand as she tucks one loose strand behind her ear. The rest of her hair is pulled back at the base of her head. Sleek, proper, and super fucking sexy.

She bends slightly to set a stack of notepads on the table and I get a peek at the perfect bubble of her ass under the pair of wide leg pants that fall from her hips like a waterfall.

Her piercing blue eyes start to scan the room as she begins her presentation. I don't hear the words she's speaking, all I can focus on is the pink heart shape of her lips as they move. And I start to devise ways to taste them.

I subtly check that my suit is in place. A quick little tug on my shirt sleeve confirms that, yes, it is still tailored to perfection by the team at Hugo Boss themselves. I check that my shoes are scuff free and I pass my fingers over my mouth and jaw to make sure everything is in order. The final piece is adjusting my glasses on my face so she is in perfect focus.

It has been a long time since I’ve seen a woman I want to impress. She hasn’t paid me any extra attention, in fact she seems to be avoiding eye contact with me. I hope that means she is flustered by me.

On instinct I scan the room again to make sure that none of these dweeby post-teens pose an actual threat. None detected. They’re all wearing suits that are just a little too big or too small and their hair is a half inch on the long side. The young women in the room are glued to Maggie’s words and she seems to spare them a few more eye contact moments than the guys.

I am wholly focused on the visual of Maggie. I don’t process a word she says because I am thinking of the different ways I want to have her and where I would start. She seems like the type that likes to ride on top but I’d like to see her bent over with me holding her wrists behind her back.

"So, to answer your question, no, the Thorne announcement doesn’t worry me."

My attention snaps and I try to piece together what she might have been saying at the start of that sentence, or even if there was a question before it. The intern standing to my left, Matt,looks at me and I give a quick shake of my head. She didn't look at me when she called out Thorne so there's a chance she doesn't know who I am. My dad is still primarily the face of the company and since I've been focused on the AI Media project for the last three years I haven't been making appearances for the company besides at our private holiday parties and fundraisers.

"Thank you everyone for coming today, if you want to grab a business card on your way out you can email me and my team for anything. Networking is the way of the world in D.C. so it's best to start getting comfortable introducing yourself to strangers!"

She laughs a little and I feel the sound in my chest. It settles there and then slowly radiates through me like rays of sunshine.

The room starts to come back to life as twenty-somethings filter out, take cards, and shake her hand. I hang back to be one of the last ones out and hopefully catch a minute of her time so I can introduce myself. Not sure how I'll handle it when she learns my last name but I'll cross that bridge when I get there. I’m good in a pinch.

"Oh that's really exciting," she says to Annabel who just said she's in the editorial division at Thorne for this semester. "News magazines and news production is serious and important work. It's wonderful to see that Thorne is also investing in people, not just algorithms."

I step up and Annabel gets the clue to leave. The stunning blonde turns her sapphire blue eyes at me and extends her hand.

"Maggie Collins, thanks for coming to the workshop."

"Hi Maggie, I'm Austin, thanks so much for putting it together."

We're the last two in the room so I step back as she starts to gather up her papers. "I noticed you weren't really engaged with the discussion today." She says as she stands back up and meets my eye.

"I'll admit I was more interested in the woman leading the discussion," I take a step forward, clearly on the prowl, and instead of flirting back or giving me bedroom eyes of her own, she pauses and then snorts out a laugh. I straighten and nervously rake my hand through my hair. That is not the reaction I was expecting and I’m unsure what to do next.

"Sorry. I'm sorry.” She says as she gathers herself. “That's just such an awful line!” She presses a hand into my chest as if to give my heart a condescending pat on the head. Instead of making me feel chastised, a current of electricity shoots through my body. I want to pile my own hand on top of it and trap her there to keep the energy flowing. “I run a successful political communications team and my looks aren't a part of that skill set. I'd much rather be known for my body of work."

"Fair enough," I smile as I stick a hand in my pocket. I hear her, I do, and if she caught the attention of my research team then her body of work must be as impressive as her figure. "I do recall you saying you weren't worried about the Thorne announcement today, is that true?"

"Of course it's true. I know this is D.C. but I'm not in the habit of lying to a group of people. Sure it'll be an adjustment but there's no way a computer can replicate what I do."

I'll admit one of our selling points is the potential for staff reductions but when I'm staring in the face of a beautiful woman who might lose her job because of mine, it hits differently.

"Is there anything else? I need to get back to work," she says with a quick glance over my shoulder. I turn and the other woman from the presentation is standing behind me. Her eyes snap up to my face after clearly enjoying the fruits of leg day.

"Oh, no, I'm good. Thanks again," I pick up one of her business cards. It's thick with a QR code embossed on one side, her name clearly printed on the other. "These are nice."

I swipe the card against my palm and I take a step backwards towards the door. "Consider this goodbye for now." I say as I step past her coworker and out to the hallway where the interns are waiting for me.

We head back to the office where I'm able to put the beautiful blonde, Maggie Collins, out of my mind while I handle change orders and an afternoon stand-up meeting. However, she floats back into my thoughts as I step into the car on my way to the podcast recording.

As we pull into traffic I search her name in AI Media’s database and the first return is her headshot paired with an article written by TMC’s top competitor, The Chronicle.

My thumb hovers over the image before I open the article as my mind returns to the electricity we generated between us this afternoon .

I wish I had paid more attention during her workshop instead of worrying about my appearance and enjoying hers. Even though I'm creating a product that will be her direct competition, I want to know more about what she does, and how she thinks. Not only because it could make the product better but her wit and sense of humor put me on my toes. My ego might not be used to getting turned down but he’s definitely ready to play.

Greg, my driver, navigates us through Dupont Circle. My eyes dart from car to car as it passes by. Everyone was up in arms when the first self-driving technology hit the road but that turned out okay. Well, as long as there is still a human there to intervene.

I shake my head to clear the small spark of doubt that snuck in over the course of the day. My news article technology isn't going to put people's lives in danger like a self-driving car would. They’re just words. What harm could they do?