She felt like a million bucks even if the navy-blue pant suit only cost fifteen.

Teaming the outfit with a wide white lace styled choker and white strappy high heels Issy walked with purpose towards the first-floor publisher's offices.

The building itself was nondescript. Another brick monolith, one of many in downtown NYC, thankfully it was one that boosted a underground carpark suitable for a high rise old jeep to slip into. Businesses of all sorts dwelled on each floor and if you wanted to explore you may well find yourself mundanely buying insurance, becoming a model or asking an architect to design a new home.

Quickly dispensing pleasantries, Issy dropped her vet series manuscripts to the associated office she dealt with. With no need for business or decisions this visit, Issy was in and out in a matter of minutes, just a hello, drop and go. She then re-entered the bustling lobby making her way over the marble tiles that were laid beautifully, creating an intricate diamond pattern. Crossing the expanse and skirting the traffic of others on their daily jaunts Issy slipped on her sunglasses, caught a half-full elevator and hit the button for her next appointment. She was heading up to the burgeoning new publishing company that ran out of the tenth floor.

Issy relent to the pull of recent moments and her eyes fluttered semi closed. Allowing herself to relive his touch, his fingers skimming along her skin... She breathed a longing sigh and reopened her eyes to the current state of reality. The elevator continually pausing its journey. The doors opened ~ adding and subtracting humans as the case may be, then shut again  and inched ever higher.

Has he found it yet?

Surreptitiously she had tucked a copy of her other genre of writing, her adult styled writing, in with John's things before they left the lake. She secreted it in a shaving bag she had given him, slotting it an unused zipper compartment on the backside of the bag. Issy also popped a note in asking him to keep it safe and not to tell Sally or Julian.

She trusted him....

With her secret.

Trusted him for his honest opinion too.

LaMer Publishing house was relatively new, only a few years old and Issy, interestingly, was a founding member. One of a stable of authors they were currently promoting and publishing.

The business had boomed after the owner, Loreile, realised she and all of her friends wanted much, much more than 'peck on the cheek' fiction.

"Miss Giselle!" Issy still wasn't used to her pseudonym she had adopted for her saucy novels. She caught herself in the nick of time from blurting out her real name. Then again Carol probably knew it anyway.

Carol, smiled broadly then slipped deftly from behind the large timber reception desk.

The woman was an all rounder. Personal greeter, PA too; she was no ordinary receptionist. The industrious Carol organised the whole office and integrated herself into all facets of the publishing house too "Lovely to see you Miss Giselle! Loreile is on a conference call at the moment, but she will be out in just a few minutes ..... Can I get you a drink – coffee, juice, champagne?"

"No thanks Carol, I just had a coffee before I arrived" Issy sat on the far end of the red leather couch holding her next naughty novel on her lap. Nice and close, hidden safely in a plain brown envelope, her battered briefcase, beside her on the floor. The appointment was for her to sign off on the last of the editor's changes to the previous manuscript.

But here she was.... sat in reception, with a follow-up!

"Giselle darling, come on through! You look lovely today" Loreile grasped Issy tight in a bear hug then kissed each cheek and proceeded to lead Issy down the hallway to her large office which overlooked Times Square.

Handing the envelope over with a smirk of triumph, Loirele's eyes widened comically and an indulgent grin followed quickly behind.

"Another!?..... Someone has been busy"

"Something to do" Issy shrugged nonchalantly.

It washed her in a way, let her breathe through the long nights.

In the beginning it was all imagining and describing her wants and needs of her own loneliness. It was an invigorating process of bringing characters together in fictional settings that she would probably never see or visit herself. It would help settle her mind and made her feel loved even though there was no one there beside her.

"Believe me, I am not complaining! Your last two books are reaching the stars, babe. Here you go, we missed you the other evening" Loriele pushed a small silver trophy across her desk toward Issy. Five small stars sat pinned to a larger one. It stood no more than two inches high. It was neat, cute "Five million darling, five! In only a few short months too. I was stunned when the numbers came in. I'm so happy for you and I'll let you in on a little secret ... " She leaned forward over the desk toward Issy "Won't be long before it hits the ten mark, I'm watching the numbers skyrocket"

Issy was speechless- five million plus people had bought her book and it was only distributed in New York State and one other US state this far;  due to licensing and local laws. Issy gaped at the silver trophy nestled in her hands. She'd never ever had an award of any sort before, not in school nor work. Never recognised academically. And here she was, in the most outlandish of places, holding an award. She beamed with pride. The only downside...She wished she wasn't so shy to admit about this writing genre to Sally.

Signing off on the previous manuscript edits, Issy approved the cover design with Loriele and picked up her regular allotment of ten advance copies of the most recently published novel. All specially wrapped and presented. She never gave them out of course but she took them anyway and stashed them safely at the lakehouse nonetheless.

Goodbyes given, Issy beamed happily as she stepped into the sunlight of the busy sidewalk and stolled around the corner to the parking garage to grab her trusty jeep.

Autobiographical was how she had started writing and beneath it all, it stayed..... Laying out the pain, the heartache, the accident. All in different plots and stories, weaving new characters and cheeky romance to give 'happy endings' wink wink and happily ever afters. The awarded trophy slipped to the bottom of her handbag as she walked.

Would John see her in the pages? Would he laugh at the words she'd slaved over and poured from her heart and soul?

Issy shook her head telling herself not to worry about what he would, or wouldn't, think. He was a liberal guy for all intents and purposes and what she had written would hardly, she presumed, cause the likes of him to blush.

New box of novels in the jeeps trunk, trophy slotted safely in the glove box; she drove to lunch.

"Issy, I wasn't sure you would even turn up after... you know" Mark held out her chair for her as she took off her sunglasses. Pushing her chair in toward the table Mark dropped right into their last meeting "I never meant to scare you, please, forgive me?"

"Sure" Issy smiled and waved the night before away, a dirty image of John's lips branding her inner thigh made her close her eyes momentarily. "I just, I just really wasn't expecting that, you were a little too fast for me. We had only just met"

"I promise to be slower" Mark teased in a low voice only she could hear "You look nice by the way and Issy ..... I can be as slow as you want"

He said the words so darn low and enticing, any woman would most likely swoon and get a little warm from the sexual innuendo he projected. It was complimentary in a way but indecent to Issys ears too. He was too fast. Too sure and cocky.

Like John her mind whispered.

But John engaged and made her giggle and smile... laugh. He made a connection.

Oh god, I can't lead Mark on ...... I can't make him think he has a chance.

"Mark I'm sorry. I'm just not wanting what I think you want" Issy blurted as she chose her meal, wondering if she should just stand and leave.

Mark's eyes darted to meet hers.
He shut the menu ever so slowly, handing it off to the waiter that had stood uncomfortably by as Issy had blurted. The poor waiter retreated from the table with haste.  "And you think I want? .... "

"Sex" Issy shrugged. She was a grown woman, and this was New York. No need to beat round that bush.

"Alright then, just kill me now with multiple, direct to the point, blows" Mark laughed overly loud, leaned back in his chair, and took her in.

The rise and fall of her breasts, the button at the top of her navy pantsuit that was undone, not even a hint clevage. She was conservative and meek and mild but also confidently bold and that was what made her intriguing... The mix, the sass she exuded "You know Issy....." Mark lowered his voice for the secret he was about to impart to her " .... You don't know what you're missing"

His voice lowered to that octave of male surliness, of cockiness... He didnt hint, he promised good times.

"Oh, I know what I'm most likely missing Mark, I just don't want any of it from you. Now! How was your day?!"

Issy slammed the door shut with a bang, and threw away the key.

Mark gapped at her as she questioned him about the mundane happenings of his day. He bit his tongue and went along, answering the few shit questions she asked. Her interest in his job and tell me about the -'must be so amazing'- recording process but he was a dog with a bone over the way she shot him down.

And he couldn't, wouldn't let it go..

"Look..... I won't ask which of them got to you but I'm guessing the initials J and L are involved" Mark grumbled, he'd seen it before.

As soon as a Lennon walked in the room, especially the elder of the two, women would zero in on him. Crawling in Lennon's lap as John all but ignored them. They flocked and he ignored, and the slutty bimbos loved it. The chase of celebrity, the promise of bedding a famous Beatle, even one with a harsh bastard's snarl and leer.

"Look Mark, we're both grown-ups here, aren't we?" Issy waited for his eyes to settle on hers. "So let me tell you straight ..... I'm just not interested in you"

Issy lowered her own voice now, injecting a heavy warning to the words she was about to utter. "...And ..... if you ever, ever! dare infer I'm in relations with Julian again I will leave you very much less of man using a kitchen knife, preferably blunt!" Issy growled the words, they were so low and menacing. Her motherly instincts unfurling as he watched her claws bare sharp with words.

"Ok, ok. I understand. You can see my side though. Watching women fall at other men's feet because of their famous name, and previous elevated status. It's a female habit I would rather not be witness to" Mark sat back, crossing his arms defensively but with an air of defeat...... This wasn't working his way, at all.

"Sure, I understand......" Issy paused a moment as the meal was presented, a small entrée for her instead of the larger main. The Chicken Carbonara did indeed look good, nodding for fresh Parmesan the waiter offered in a small bowl. She went back to staring at Mark as the waiter uncomfortably sprinkled the cheese. Mark stared back trying to decipher her. "I do understand your point of view but don't you go thinking you can tell me who I can, or can't, see"

"So, he is there, somewhere in the mix then..?" Mark pushed as he took a swig of the white wine that had been poured earlier.

"No one is" Issy interjected, frustrated with his line of questioning.

John and her were neither here nor there til they both got their shit together.

"I leave here, drive home and live alone. Plenty of things to keep me occupied and Mark.... if I want to have copious amounts of sex, I will!"

Marks mouth dropped open then he quickly regathered, a thin line set to his lips had followed his scowl. She was a firecracker, this one.

After that little outburst the rest of the lunch was a subdued affair, neither spoke again until the waiter dropped the bill fold to the table.

Issy grabbed her purse, opened it to gather up the cash to drop her meals price, and large tip, on the tray it perched on.

"I'll pay Issy. I did ask you out" Mark offered carefully, his voice changing back to that of a friend, not that of a jilted prospective lover. "All I seem to do is apologise to you. So here goes again, I'm sorry. Maybe we can do this, have lunch again, as friends?" Issy looked up from her purse, he was now looking hopeful- open and possibly honest as she watched his lips drain the glass; although his eyes were cloaked and directed on her purse as he offered.

"Yes ... that would be nice as friends. I'm sorry I went all tribal mum on you. But... you did deserve it" Issy smiled, hoping he realised his mistake.

"Yes, I suppose I did"

And that was it. Over, thank goodness.

Walked to the door of the restaurant, left on the kerb, Mark walked off with his hands jammed in his pockets like someone had kicked his dog.

She wouldn't do that, she loved dogs.

Maybe someone had given him a good tongue lashing.. yes that's what she had done.

It was time to get out of this rat race. The smog and fumes making her cough all the way back to the Jeep.

Battling lunch hour traffic Issy began her journery home.

She was free and alone, and wasn't bothered by that one little bit at all.