Everyone left the room and it was just Elliot and Keira left.
“What’s up?” she asked him.
“I know this is all a bit much,” Elliot began. “Your article has caused a stir.”
“Among the staff?”
“Oh, I don’t care about that,” Elliot said. “Jealousy can be a great motivator. No, a stir amongst advertisers.”
“Oh,” Keira said, a little confused. “What do you mean?”
“I mean they’re willing to pay vast sums more to appear in Viatorum than they used to. I mean there’s a bidding war going on for advertising space in our next issue and on our website. We’re getting a lot of attention.”
“That’s great,” Keira said. “What’s that got to do with me?”
Elliot laughed. “You’re not very business savvy, are you, Keira?”
She shrugged. “There’s a reason I became a writer.”
“Good point.” He chuckled again. “Keira, I’m saying you’re bringing increased revenue into the company. So you deserve a reward.”
It began to sink in then. “You mean like a bonus?”
“That’s exactly what I mean.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a slip of paper, then slid it across the glass table top to Keira.
She picked it up. It was a check. Keira read the sum.
“Five hundred dollars? Thanks, that’ll pay for my new furniture.”
Elliot frowned. “No, Keira. It’s five thousand dollars.”
Keira almost choked. She did a double take at the check. Indeed, the figure was five thousand, not five hundred.
“Wow. Well… I don’t know what to say. Thanks so much.”
Elliot nodded. “If you keep this up, Keira, there’ll be plenty more where that came from.”
Feeling triumphant, Keira folded the check and put it in her pocket. Maybe going viral wasn’t all bad. Though the thought of being on TV terrified her, the check in her pocket certainly went some way to make up for it.
Chapter six
The rest of the day was a blur for Keira. From interview practice with Rick and Sally (which felt more like interrogations), introductions to plucky new editorial staff whose names Keira forgot the moment she was told them, and back-to-back meetings, she didn’t even get a lunch break, or a chance to speak to Nina.
As soon as five o’clock arrived, Keira was out the door and heading home. She still couldn’t quite believe everything that was happening and her mind was a blur. Never in her life had she anticipated her writing career to take her in this direction. As she rode the subway home to her new apartment, it was with a sense of irony that she realized she hadn’t actually written a single word all day.
It was only once she was back in her new, bare apartment that Keira got the chance to really breathe. Even the darkness caused by her complete lack of lamps was something of a relief, as it helped dull the pounding headache her busy day had induced.
She kicked off her shoes and rubbed her sore ankles, then rested her head against the back of her front door. She let her eyelids close down and drifted into an exhaustion-induced half-awake state.
She was still pressed against the front door when the bell beside her buzzed. She jerked back to consciousness, remembering she had plans to see Bryn. Plans after work had never been an issue before, but Keira’s body was heavy and tired after the long day and she cursed herself for having made them in the first place.
She turned and opened the door to Bryn. Her sister was holding a plant in a vase.
“Housewarming gift!” Bryn exclaimed.
Keira smiled. “Come on in,” she said, beckoning.
It was her sister’s first time seeing the apartment. Bryn stepped inside and looked about her a little cautiously.
“Oh, it’s very… cute,” she commented, placing the plant onto the countertop.
Keira knew she was holding back from saying tiny, but at least it was a step in the right direction for Bryn to even hold her tongue. Knowing Bryn, she probably thought the place was a complete dump. She was trying to be nice, which, in itself, was a huge thing for Bryn!
“Wow, you have a view over Central Park,” Bryn added, walking up to the window and gazing out.
“Just about,” Keira replied.
“It’s a great view,” Bryn said with a nod.
At least that was truthful, Keira thought.
Bryn turned from the window then. “Right, we’d better get started,” she said. She dumped her purse on the floor, then bent down and fished out a measuring tape from inside. She pulled the tape and held it up. “We’ll need to measure everything. Walls. Windows. Everything.”
Keira raised an eyebrow. “That’s kind of thorough, don’t you think?”
“Absolutely,” Bryn replied. “I want this place to be as perfect as can be. I have a vision already. You know I love to decorate.”
Keira laughed aloud. “That’s fine. But remember this is my apartment, so don’t go too crazy.”
But there was no telling Bryn. She was already off with her measuring tape, humming to herself, a woman on a mission.
Once Bryn had gotten all the detailed measurements she felt necessary, they headed out in Bryn’s car to a furniture store. Bryn waltzed in ahead of Keira, clearly in heaven as she perused the aisles. They started in the dining room section.
“I forgot to ask,” Bryn said as they walked between the rows of tables and chair sets. “What’s your budget for the new place?”
Keira thought of the check from Elliot, which was still in her pocket. If he really meant there was more to come, then she could theoretically blow the whole lot. But Keira was far too sensible for that. Besides, she was so used to the rug being pulled out from beneath her feet that she could never let herself get that comfortable. The last time she’d had any large sum of money it had all been wasted on Shane’s canceled trip to New York City.
“Um, I have some savings,” Keira said, opting for a half truth. “But I’d prefer not to use too much of it. Let’s just keep it sensible.”
“Sure,” Bryn said, absent-mindedly, her attention already taken by a sleek glass bistro table and two matching glass and metal chairs. Clearly, Keira’s budget wasn’t at the forefront of Bryn’s mind.
“Isn’t this gorgeous?” Bryn said, turning to Keira with a big grin. “And it’s the perfect dimensions for the window. Imagine looking out at your view, a glass of wine in hand.”
Keira stuck her tongue out and grimaced. “That sounds more like you than me. It’s a bit too modern for my taste. You know I like vintage.”
“Just think, this will be vintage one day,” Bryn cajoled. “Eventually.”
Keira chuckled. “That’s not how it works and you know it. I’d prefer a chair with an ottoman in the window, covered in a checkered blanket and mismatched floral cushions. Somewhere I can sit and read, not somewhere to quaff wine.”
Now it was Bryn’s turn to grimace. “This is why I’m the one designing the place. If you were left to your own devices you’d probably cover the walls in fabric, stick a ton of cushions on the floor, and call it a day.”
Keira rolled her eyes at Bryn’s over exaggerated vision.
“Come on, sis. I have this all worked out,” Bryn continued. “And this table is absolutely perfect for my vision.” She rested her hands on the glass table top. “It speaks