New York Romance

Disclaimer: I don't own Secret Window...alright?

Summary: (more) Mort's publishing company is fed up. He won't write. So now he's stuck doing office work. But he cannot cooperate there either. Since the death of Amy, Mort's eyes have been transfixed on his mysterious co-workers. The very tragic, yet humorous story of how John Shooter won't let Mort have his way with anything. His college girlfriend is now his co-worker and his young co-worker now wants to be his housekeeper. Mort will have to go to drastic measures to get Shooter out of his life completely.

AN: I'm actually gonna be serious with this story haha. I still have some stuff to work out with the plot. I didn't want to give it all away in the summary. I switch POVs a lot but it shouldn't be too hard to figure out. Pleeeeeeease review. I'd appreciate it so much. Well, here goes nothing.

Chapter One: Gentlemen, They Don't Ask Questions


It's the girl in the corner with the wide black hat. The one you watch but never really see. The one with the bright red lipstick and the thick black eyeliner. The long black dress and hair hidden beneath her hat. The one you long for but know you cannot have for the cigarette in her hand stands as a reminder that you no longer have that privilage.

Unfortunately, Mort Rainey did not live in that kind of world.

We rolled around, laughing and talking in his bed that night, and I could swear I'd never seen him so happy in the time that I'd known him...which honestly wasn't very long. My hair was a mess from the static of the covers and of course Mort's was. The dim light of the dorm cast shadows on his lovely face and, unhidden from his thick glasses, I could see his big brown eyes. The eyes I had grown to love. "So we've been together for three months now?"

He smiled. "Let's make it last forever." God, he is the sweetest guy I've ever met. He kissed me. I rolled on top of him and laughed. He just had a way of making me so happy. I kissed him back as my hands ran through his hair. It was strange but I could just feel I was falling in love with this man.


And then he kissed her.

"Goddammit Mort!" she yelled, picking up her things and stuffing them in one of her big backpacks. "You tell me you love me, you tell me you'll never leave me, then you do THIS!" she added, throwing in a few of her more intimate clothes left behind at Mort's dorm.

"No, it's not like that, I-"

She obviously didn't want to listen to him anymore. "No, baby, please-" He pleaded, watching her walk out the door. He didn't want her to go. He'd loved her more than life itself. More than the air he breathed in order to live. He loved her more than the air that could not seem to maintain itself between them. It was impossible for the two of them to be apart. Now they would have to.

Amy walked in. Mort didn't want to have to face her. He actually wanted to write. He had so many thoughts in his head right now, it may actually be productive.

"Mort, I didn't mean to end your relationship," Amy stated plainly.

Mort sighed. "I know you didn't, Amy. I don't know what made me...I don't know..."

"Oh, so it..didn't mean anything, right?"

Mort looked at her. He didn't know. Did he want to be with Amy now? But what would happen...? He shook his head, clearing his thoughts. "Um, no...no, nothing..."

Amy looked disappointed, angry, and uncomfortable all at the same time. "Well, I guess I'll go. Got a report due tomorrow."

"Right. B-bye."

She smiled regretfully and walked out. But he wouldn't let her walk out of his life. He couldn't do that...to himself. He needed her. But he needed both of them! It was unclear to Mort now who he could and could not live without.


Present


Mort hung up the phone with the manager of his publishing company. They were..."letting him go."

Where exactly? Mort didn't have anywhere to "go". He didn't want to think about it too much right now. He couldn't. But in the back of his mind, he knew he would have to seek employment elsewhere. He now had factual proof that writing was no longer his thing. He knew he would sort of miss it, but hey, maybe one day, when he is with the real girl of his dreams, inspiration might break through.

It had been a few days since Mort had had another unfortunate encounter with John Shooter. That was a good sign. Whenever he showed up, he usually congratulated him for killing off Amy and Ted. Other times he presented him ideas for stories. (Useless now.) And other times, actually most of the time, he came to annoy the shit out of him.

But no, today Mort was to go job-hunting. And if Shooter followed him out into the busy streets of New York City, boy, was Mort going to be mad.

So Mort found himself wandering down a street in NYC. So far no luck in finding a job, and he had to admit, it was difficult. Never having needed to go through this kind of thing before, it was quite an experience. He'd even been turned down by the local McDonald's. Not that he particularly wanted that job anyway. As for now, he decided he needed some coffee to keep him awake.

The small coffee shop he'd never been in before was cozy and quaint. Little round tables fit for two people maximum were scattered about. Mort began to think it would be nice if he could find employment somewhere near to this lovely place.

He picked up a cup of coffee then sat down at one of the tables, watching people. People-watching was one of his favorite hobbies. People were so different. Everybody varies so much.

Two girls, maybe in their late twenties walked into the shop, the dark-haired one seeming particularly upset. Mort found it hard to tell if she was upset as in she wanted to cry or upset as in she wanted to kick something. Her and her friend sat down, setting down what seemed to be infinite shopping bags. The upset one's blond friend went to order while she stayed at the table. Mort did feel slightly uncomfortable, drinking his coffee intentionally slowly to find out what was upsetting this pretty girl so badly.

Now you think she's pretty, Rainey?

At least he wasn't physically here.

Mort took another sip of coffee to stop himself from replying, saving himself the embarrassment of stares from fellow citizens of the coffee shop.

She's probably half your age, Mr. Rainey, I would resist that urge to go over and talk to her if I were you.

Mort coughed and set down his coffee cup. "Well...you're not." Mort gathered up his résumé and papers that he had been carrying around and walked over to the young lady's table. "Hi, miss, do you work around here?" he asked, trying to ask a question to build up casual conversation.

"What? Oh, yeah...I work for a stock company in that tall building across the street..."

Mort looked over his shoulder, finding a tall, flashy building of probably about a hundred floors. "Ah. Well are you aware of any job openings in there?"

"Why? You need a job?"

"Yeah...I kind of just got laid off."

"That sucks. In a way, you could say I just did too."

"Boyfriend?"

"Yep." She nodded.

"What's your name?

"Scarlet...Kessler," she said, smirking, shaking his hand.

"Mort Rainey."

"Ooooh right. You're an author!" she said, standing up. "Wait so-"

"Yeah...I don't think I'll be writing anymore."

"Aww, well that sucks. Hey how about I take your résumé and show my boss. He can look it over for you. But like you really wanna work for a stock company..."

"No, no, I'll just be happy for a job now. I've looked around this whole city."

She smiled. It was the first time in the course of their conversation that Mort noticed her physical features. He was surprisingly taken aback by her neon personality. She had brown hair with an assortment of highlights in it: red, blond, and he could have sworn he saw blue. But she had light blue eyes to match. Her skin was light like a porcelain doll's and her style was like nothing he'd seen. A black Hot Hot Heat spaghetti strap top and light blue jeans: not another Abercrombie zombie.

He handed his résumé to her. "Okay well maybe I'll see you around, Scarlet?"

"Let's hope," she said with her raspy voice, turning on her heel and sitting back down. Mort headed out of the coffee shop, feeling grateful that he had made Scarlet feel a little bit better. He obviously knew what it was like to be left alone.

As Mort stood outside, trying to remember where he'd parked his car, he passed the tall shiny building. He prayed he'd get the job for that stock company.


AN: Yeah I hope you like it! It's a little bit short but it's going on 1:15 in the morning and I wanted to finish before I went to bed. Please review! I'd love that :)

Jamie Your Frickin Star