001.

"Romance can't possibly carry all that we want it to." -Donald Miller.

I like to write, so here is where I'll do it.
I've already written this one a while ago, but I thought I'd start with it anyways.


She walked into the room. A chill ran down her spine, and butterflies stirred in her stomach. There he was, staring at her. She looked back over her shoulder self-conciously, trying to decide whether it would be permissible for her to make a quick exit. She could not shake him now, he'd seen her. The sound of her Steve Madden shoes on the hardwood floor broke the silence. He smiled. Why had he smiled? She looked down, examining her crimson dress as she walked. It couldn't have been the dress. He stood to greet her. She stopped walking and looked to her right, avoiding eye contact. An 18th century portrait of a soldier hung on the wall beside the bookcase. "Hello," he said, kissing her on the cheek. Her concentration was broken. She managed half of a smile, then nervously eased away and sat on the worn velvet love seat. He offered her tea; she politely declined. She was good at that--being polite even in the worst of circumstances. She cleared her throat.
"I-It's a nice day...today," she managed to mutter.
"Yes, it is," he replied, eyeing her with every word. She shifted in her seat. The ticking of the grandfather clock in the corner grew increasingly louder. "You know, we must confront this eventually," he said to her. She turned her head. "I-I know," she replied.
"So what shall I do? I am in such a predicament. Tell your husband? I could. But what would I get out of that?"
He looked towards the ceiling and took a puff on his pipe. She glared.
"What do you want?" she insisted.
"Oh, I don't know. I shall have to think about that one. This is a mighty large piece of gossip I hold in my hand, don't you think? It should be worth plenty. What shall I ask for, hm?" he taunted.
She kept in her thoughts. She couldn't afford to speak up. All she could do was glare at him.
"Let's see," he continued. "Oh I know exactly what you could do for me in exchange for withholding this information. You do not want him to know about William, hm? How about you have William and your husband agree to sell the company to me? It's rather brilliant, I think."
"Sell the company? Those are two hard-working gentlemen you are refering to, and I won't have you steal everything they've worked for!" she couldn't hold it in.
"That sounded like an argument, to me. You know I do work only rooms away from your 'friend' William, as well as your husband. 'Twould be a shame to come between such a strong partnership."
She crossed her arms and looked away. A tear rolled down her cheek as she stared out the window of the study.
"That's what I thought," he said, smiling to himself. He rose and began walking to the door, not looking back at her.
"Ah, William, how do you do?" he said as he brushed past William and continued through the doorway.
She hurriedly wiped the tears from her cheeks and put on a half-hearted smile to greet him.