MODERN DAY

Jack Kelly leaned over the dividing wall between his cubicle and the one next to him. "How's it going?" he asked, reaching his arms over to grab a pencil. The woman sitting at her computer didn't look up at the sound of his voice.

"'There are no recorded records' … I hate repeating like that, what do you think?" she replied, ignoring Jack's question as her eyebrows went together.

"God, are we in Journalism 150 again? You don't start any sentence with 'There are.'"

"Shit, I didn't even notice. This story is the bane of my existence, I'm telling you. Three months. I'm losing my mind," the woman sighed, running her hands through her messy red hair. "Alright," she said, straightening her glasses. "'No incident report records are kept by the security company.' I don't like the double 're' in there."

"Yeah, it sounds weird. Try, 'Pinegate Security keeps no documented records of on site incidents.'"

"Thanks, Jack," she smiled, typing the sentence into her computer. "A couple more edits and I will be done with this son of a bitch."

"Just give me a byline. We all know I pretty much wrote that thing. Hey, do you want to grab a drink with all of us?" Jack gestured behind him to a couple of people gathering their things to get ready to
leave.

"Thanks, but I can't."

"Liz, come on," Jack groaned. "Why did you have to be an investigative journalist? You should write sports. Sports are so much easier. It happens, jot down some scores and highlights, badda-bing, badda-boom, done."

"Sorry," Liz said, looking up after saving her file. "You know if I don't get this done tonight, Snyder will kill me. Or at least lecture me about disgracing the empire that Pulitzer established 150 years
ago."

"You suck. See you tomorrow. Text me if you need me to rewrite the rest of that," Jack said as he put on his jacket. With he wink, he was
gone.

"Will do," Liz murmured to no one as she leaned closer to her computer.

"Rejected again," David Jacobs, Jack's best friend and layout design editor, laughed as he clapped Jack on the back.

"I wasn't rejected, she's writing a story," Jack said, rolling his eyes and punching the elevator button.

"You know, for an investigative journalist, she really doesn't seem to notice you're obsessed with her," David said. "Isn't it her job to
notice stuff?"

"Shut up, man," Jack laughed as he moved to make room for more people when the doors opened.

"All I'm saying is that you probably should step up your game."

"Speaking of game, did you see the Yankees last night?"

Jack was on his third beer when he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. He took it out and looked down at the screen that informed him
he had an E-mail. He opened it up and saw it was Liz's final article.

"Here you go, Kelly. Thought you might like to be the first to read it. Hope you had fun with everyone tonight. Maybe next time? –Liz."

Jack frowned at the message, realizing that there was no chance he could get Liz to come to the bar now. It was already one in the morning. He closed the E-mail and put his phone in his pocket as he raised his hand for another beer.

"What's the story you're working on now about?" Anthony Higgins asked Jack with one eye on the television screen showing Thoroughbred racing highlights. Anthony, better known as Racetrack due to his fascination with gambling and horse racing, was the paper's sports editor.

"It's just a feature story, nothing hard hitting. I've got to go out to this school tomorrow and do some interviews. Some class helped save some building no one gave a shit about with some stupid fundraiser."

"Please tell me that is your opening sentence," David laughed, returning from the bathroom. "We all know you have the best ledes in business."

"Goddamn right," Jack grinned, raising his beer bottle and taking a swig.

"When are you going to make news editor?" Race took his eyes away from the screen and looked at Jack. "You've been there for six years, writing shitty features and going to every news event you could."

"I have no idea, man. That's all I want. To be editor. I want the fancy desk, the fancy business cards and the very small pay raise."

"Don't forget the women," Race said with a wink.

"Yeah, everyone's all up on us newspaper men," Jack laughed, gesturing to some pretty girls he had been trying to flirt with earlier. It was unsuccessful.

"Worked for Clark Kent. And Peter Parker," David quipped.

"I will be the J. Jonah Jameson to your Peter Parker," Jack said to David, who clinked his bottle against Jack's with a laugh.

"Hey, how was last night?" Liz asked Jack as he walked in and put his briefcase on his desk. Jack held up his mug of coffee with a guilty grin. "Ah, I see."

"Nice front page, by the way," Jack said, dropping his jacket onto his chair as he leaned over to open up his Web browser to check his E-mail. "Pinegate Security definitely hates you."

"Not my fault they don't do their jobs."

"What's on your agenda today?"

"I have to request some open records," Liz sighed, rolling her eyes. "Always fun. You're going to that school today, right?"

"Yeah. I hate features," Jack muttered. Liz gave him an apologetic look before flipping through her notebook with open letter request templates. "Hey, you're not wearing your glasses today. You look
cute."

"I didn't realize my glasses covered up how adorable I am," Liz replied smoothly as she took a letter out and read it over.

"I didn't say that, did I?" Jack answered. "You look cute with them too."

"I think this is sexual harassment." Liz glanced up and smiled. Jack shrugged, "Doesn't seem like you mind it all that much."

"Kelly, why are you still here? You were supposed to leave 10 minutes ago," John Snyder, the paper's editor in chief, barked out as he walked across the room. "Where's Jacobs?"

"At the desk with his name on it," Jack said, pointing to the back corner. He glanced down at his watch. "I don't have to leave for another 10 minutes," he muttered. "What the hell is wrong with him?"

"I would go anyway. Less time here," Liz said as she picked up her phone. "Hey, I have to be over by the school later today—to give my open records request, you know. Do you want to grab lunch?"

"Ah, I would if I could, but I have to go cover a store opening," Jack groaned, hating the sound of the trivial story. "Dinner tonight?"

"Alright, sure. Should I send an E-mail out?"

Jack frowned, then turned away, pretending he needed to grab something off his desk. He took a swig of coffee and put on his jacket. "Sure,
if you want to."

"Will do. See you later."

Jack walked out of the newsroom, suddenly in a bad mood. Why was it so hard to ask Liz out? It's like she deflected all of his attempts, whether it be with work or casually inviting other people along. Jack was halfway in the elevator when he decided it was time to, as David had said, step up his game. He gave an apologetic wave to the people in the elevator and headed back to the newsroom. He went to Liz's desk; she looked up, smiling and confused. "Hey, Jack, I thought you had –"

"—I think it should just be us tonight," Jack interrupted. "Is that okay?"

"Yeah, no, definitely, that's … that's great. Okay. Yeah," Liz fumbled with her words, clearly flattered and caught off guard by Jack's proposal.

"Great. I'll meet you at Maclaren's at 8:00."

Please review! I'm really excited about this story. Hope you enjoyed it, tell me what you think in the reviews.

-K