Home is Where the Farm is (Check Me Out #2)

Prologue

Scarlett

“I don’t give a shit if you’re getting married.

” The irritatingly high pitched voice carries through the door of the corner office.

As usual, Valerie’s voice rings through the air like a fire alarm.

For a petite woman, she sure knows how to be loud.

Not to mention intimidating. I’ve seen grown men cry over her criticism.

“I don’t care if you’re in labor with your first born, if you don’t make your deadline you will be fired.

” She continues, the entire office trained to listen without reacting like they can hear her.

Which they can. Hell, the offices down three stories can probably hear her.

“Now get out and go do your job.” Valerie finishes her tirade just as the door to her office opens.

Gabby steps out into the silent office. The sound of keystrokes the only distraction from her sniffling.

Her long auburn hair is pulled back into a side braid and her head hangs low in a poor attempt to disguise the fact that she is crying.

Her feet shuffle in a quick awkward walk towards the break room.

I eye Amber at the next desk and without a word we grab our empty coffee mugs and head towards the break room too.

I’ve been working for Denver Magazine for almost ten years.

When I was younger all I did was write. I wrote about everything I saw in a small notebook that fit in my pocket.

Four years in a row I was Barbara Walters for Halloween.

As I got older my passion did not quiet, it just shifted to be more serious.

When I was in high school I wrote for the school paper, becoming the first sophomore editor in the history of my high school.

At the University of Colorado I studied journalism knowing that it was what I was meant for.

My multimedia storytelling professor knew someone who worked at Denver Magazine and put a word in for me.

I was hired before I walked the stage at graduation.

At the time, Denver Magazine was exactly the kind of place I wanted to write for.

It covered local, state, and country politics as well as some fluffier topics.

I was hired to be a part of the team covering national politics.

We were a team of four and we took turns traveling the country wherever the story led us.

In the beginning it was exhausting but empowering work. Now it’s simply exhausting.

Don’t get me wrong, I still have that passion for journalism, but around four years ago Valerie took over for Douglas as the editor in chief.

Douglas was an amazing boss. Born and raised in Denver he had a passion for this city and state like I’d never seen.

He was also in his early seventies and was surprisingly chill.

Positive reinforcement seemed to be his biggest tool.

With a calm face and a smile he would lay his hand on your shoulder and lock eyes with you.

He’d take a deep breath and for some reason you would too, and then he’d follow that up with the most sincere pep talk you’d ever have.

It was impossible not to believe the kind words he said about you and your capabilities.

Valerie was born and raised in New York City. Her vibe is hustle, which I could respect at first. But somehow over the years her idea of hustle was becoming more and more unachievable. She wants us available every waking minute, and even all the minutes we aren’t awake.

Amber and I enter the break room and hear Gabby’s soft cries in the corner. She sits on the couch with her head in her hands.

“Oh honey.” Amber runs to her side, rubbing her back gently.

Amber is the mom of a set of toddlers and honestly I don’t know how she’s surviving this job right now.

Apparently her husband, who is a saint, stays home with the kids while she’s at work.

Right now though, she’s the soothing nurturer that Gabby needs.

“What am I supposed to do?” Gabby asked between sobs. Amber and I both opened our mouths to say something at the same time but I made my voice louder.

“You get fucking married Gabby.”

“But I’ll lose my job.” Her shoulders shake with emotion as the tears stream down.

“Do you love this job more than him?” I asked. Gabby’s answer is immediate.

“Of course not, some days I don’t even like it.”

“Then go get married and fuck this place. There are other jobs, believe me.”

“Scarlett, I don’t know if that’s what she needs to hear right now.” Amber says, getting up from the couch to retrieve a small paper cup of water from across the room.

“I would agree, Amber.” The voice comes from behind me.

I don’t need to turn around to know that Valerie is standing in the doorway, but I turn anyway.

“You all need to realize that you are already married. You’re married to this job.

And for as long as you are employed in this company you will remain married to the job.

We are the highest ranking media for news in this city.

People depend on us. Therefore, this magazine is the most important thing in your life.

Amber realizes this and she’s already married with children.

If she can understand, then I expect you two to realize it as well.

” Valerie turns on her heels and leaves, not waiting for a response.

I roll my eyes and turn my gaze to Amber. “I, uh, didn’t mean for her to take it that way.” Amber says, her only defense.

While I know it’s true that Amber didn’t mean for Valerie to use her as an example, Valerie isn’t wrong. Amber is dedicated to this job and the truth is… I’m not anymore.

Maybe, journalism isn’t what I want my life to revolve around anymore.