The building was buzzing for reasons that hadn't yet been identified when Jane and Sutton made their way off the elevator.
Jane went to her office to set down her things before going out to chat with the other writers.
"Hey, Alex. What's the breaking news?" she asked, leaning on his desk.
"A big shake up with the frat boys upstairs," he said.
"Upstairs?" she questioned.
"The man cave people," he smiled his dazzling smile at the name he'd chosen this time for the home decor magazine that catered a bit too much to men. They were under Safford's corporate umbrella. "Too much wine and cheese, I suspect."
"Ignore him," Sage rolled her eyes. "Apparently an HR nightmare, perhaps one with legal consequences. Jeff has been fired for sexual behavior that included a young intern."
"The word 'young' is doing some heavy lifting," Alex added. "We are talking high school intern."
Jane's jaw dropped. She was instantly sick to her stomach. The men in her industry didn't have the best track record when it came to these things. Just ask Jacqueline, she thought. Jacqueline!
She didn't excuse herself when she looked up and saw her boss in her office seemingly lost in thought.
She knocked & opened the door enough to pop her head in.
"What do you need?" The editor didn't take her eyes off the point in the sky outside the window she was scrutinizing.
"You," Jane stated emphatically.
When Jacqueline looked up it was obvious that she had shed a few tears since arriving at the office that Tuesday morning.
"Why don't we take a walk?" she offered a supportive smile.
The blonde stood, wiped her face quickly and then pulled her shoulders back in an attempt to display confidence and control.
She stepped toward Jane and made eye contact. The writer only wished she knew what was being said with that look.
"I am stepping out for a minute, Andrew," she spoke. "I will be back before our morning meeting."
The two women walked unobtrusively through the bullpen, past the vestibule that led to Jane's office and briefly toward the elevator bay. Jane changed her mind given the time of day. They avoided the busy elevator area. Jacqueline followed her into the fashion closet where Jane locked and latched the door.
"Jacq," she said, turning around just in time to see the tall, stoic woman crumble.
She stepped forward to offer comforting arms. Blonde hair fell over the writer's shoulder as Jacqueline nuzzled into her and allowed the tears to fall.
"Come sit down," Jane whispered.
They made their way to the settee where the young woman brushed blonde locks away from a reddened face.
"We can sit here like this until you're ready to face your staff at the meeting or we can talk about it," she held Jacqueline's hand and continued to run a hand through her hair. "Or if you need, I can tell Andrew to cancel the meeting and your day."
"That won't be necessary," came the reply as the editor closed her eyes and leaned into Jane's hand.
"You're only saying that because you don't want to cause Andrew an aneurysm," Jane said with a smile.
This made the older woman chuckle.
"Which do you think would cause it, that he had to inform everyone at the last minute or that you would be the one ordering him to do it?" she asked.
"Definitely me."
The editor sighed.
"Jane, how does this keep happening? How does it never change?" she returned to the heartache and anger at hand.
The writer allowed her to speak.
"I have been in this business for nearly as long as you have been alive and this shit continues to happen to young women who are starting out. They are nothing but prey."
The tears resumed.
"It does happen less and less. Many of us in the beginning of our careers have the good fortune of working for phenomenal editors who care for our success and allow us to take flight," Jane offered.
This earned Jane a grateful smile.
"This... monster," the depth of her anger was now evident in Jacqueline's voice. "...he has been editor for a decade. His behavior was not on anyone's radar."
This brought a confused, questioning look from Jane. The way Jacqueline said it sounded like more than the rumor mill. She was correct. Jacqueline hung her head.
"Hey..." Jane pressed her shoulder into the woman, absolving her of her shame.
"There are a few of us on Slack. We share rumors as well as confirmed incidents regarding men in the industry. We want to be of support to the younger women and to do so we need to know which men to steer them clear of. If we can't get rid of these predators, we can do our best to warn and protect young women."
The writer was overcome with pride for the woman before her. She knew it wasn't the time to say so.
"And there was never even a rumor about him?" she asked.
"Nothing at all."
"He has been fired, but..." Jane paused not knowing how to delicately say what she intended.
"The assault will be investigated by the police," Jacqueline nodded.
"That's progress."
Moving from her seat, Jane knelt in front of Jacqueline. Taking both of her hands, the brunette looked deep into cloudy grey eyes.
"We have to appreciate progress for what it is instead of focusing on what it isn't. It will be everything we want one day, but for today it is progress all the same. Now, tell me what I can do for you to get you through this day."
Jacqueline saw something behind hazel eyes that floored her—not adoration or care but something deeper. Love. Jane Sloan was falling in love with her.
"Jacq? Are you okay?" Jane worried when the woman zoned out.
"Yes, sorry, yes I am okay. Let's not scare Andrew further and go to the morning meeting."
The older woman was torn between pulling Jane into a kiss and pulling back to save Jane from inevitable hurt.
Holding out her hands to help the writer up, Jacqueline followed. Their bodies were close enough to feel each other's warmth.
"Come here," Jane whispered, opening her arms and giving the editor a long, bolstering hug.
Taking a deep breath, Jacqueline felt the young woman's perfume settle over her. She felt a wild heart beating against her own. And she briefly considered that her falling for Jane had been happening for years. Pulling away wasn't going to stop that. It hadn't stopped it before their cards were on the table, it wouldn't after.
"Jane?" she hummed.
"Hmm?" came the reply.
"Thank you."
They left the fashion closet together, unaware if there had been curious eyes on them. Perhaps Jacqueline Carlyle was losing control of the tight protection of herself that had been cultivated over years. Or maybe, just maybe, she was letting someone in on the secrets she hid.
To be continued…