Chapter Six
Six
In Stella’s defense, she had waited.
But there was only so long someone could lie on a bed that wasn’t her own without any clothes on before asking herself what on earth was she doing.
For starters, she had no idea how clean those sheets were.
Secondly, and perhaps more importantly, was she really just waiting there, tits out, legs open, serving herself up on a platter for some guy she didn’t even know to come back with a condom and have his way with her? Was she really that desperate?
If she was really Cherry, or Chelsea, she would’ve put her dress back on, stormed out into the club, and found someone else to sleep with.
Stella wasn’t Cherry, though, so instead, she put her clothes back on, grabbed her stuff from coat check, and went home.
Which was good, because apparently Chelsea had locked herself out of their apartment and needed Stella to let her in.
In sum, the whole night was a bust. Okay, maybe not the whole night. She would never forget the feel of Max’s mouth or the orgasm that he coaxed out of her in record time. That was at least worth something. Still, she felt unsatisfied.
She hated that at twenty-seven years old, she still felt so behind. When she’d graduated high school, it hadn’t bothered her much that she hadn’t had sex despite various sources of media telling her high school was the time to swipe your V-card.
Going into college, most of her friends also hadn’t had sex, and Stella was confident (for some reason) that it would happen within those next four years.
But then she graduated college and started interning, then working full-time.
Then it felt like suddenly, overnight, all her friends were having these different experiences that she could only smile and nod at, until finally she looked around and she was the last virgin standing.
Stella didn’t want it to matter. She knew there were probably plenty of people just like her who lacked experience and that at twenty-seven, she was actually still pretty young.
That didn’t stop her brain from often wondering why it seemed so easy for her friends to get dates and fall in love, or at the very least hook up, and yet it seemed almost impossible for Stella.
Even last night with Max, he didn’t like her because she was her; he liked her because she was Cherry.
Hot, daring, exciting Cherry, who would’ve already forgotten Max by now instead of wondering if she should’ve just waited a bit longer for him to come back so they could have the kind of sex that led to fireworks.
She was sure, based on what had transpired before he left the room, he definitely would’ve given her that.
Stella tossed and turned all night over these thoughts, and the temptation to call in sick to work was high, but it was Wednesday, which meant it was pitch meeting day, and Stella couldn’t miss that.
She was coming up on her three-year anniversary at Yellow Sparks, the popular list and quiz site that published everything from what some would call “real” journalism to quizzes like “We Know What Size Mattress Your First Child Will Be Conceived on Based on Your Zodiac Sign.” That had actually been one of Stella’s ideas, and it had gone viral.
When she first joined the company as an editorial fellow, she didn’t think she’d stick around for this long, but the pay was decent and, honestly, trying to find a solid writing gig anywhere these days was nearly impossible.
So now she was a quiz writer, a concept her parents, who’d paid for her education at Georgetown University, did not fully understand.
Most people didn’t, even though it was exactly what it sounded like.
Stella’s job was to write quizzes for Yellow Sparks, which could be as simple as just clicking your zodiac sign and being told a mattress size, or a more traditional personality quiz format where someone answered multiple questions to find out which Powerpuff Girl they were.
Stella was hoping to move over to the Spark News side, which unlike the content team that only did posts in the form of lists, was able to write more traditional news articles, including everything from investigative reporting to personal essays or profile pieces.
She’d also be happy to just become a full content writer, but despite having written a few long-form pieces here and there for the site, anytime she’d broached the idea of switching teams, her boss, Melanie, had shot her down.
Hence, why Stella had to be in the pitch meeting.
It was the only time she really had a chance to sign up to write something that wasn’t in the form of a quiz, and so far, most of her ideas had been successful.
Stella was sure that if she kept pushing, eventually Melanie would let her move away from quizzes.
Or she’d have a good enough portfolio of writing samples to jump ship. Whichever happened first.
After snoozing her alarm three times, Stella finally found the strength to get out of bed and ready for work.
Thankfully, the Yellow Sparks dress code erred on the more casual side of business casual, so Stella could throw on her best pair of jeans, a yellow sweater, and her go-to black Dr. Martens and be office ready.
She put her braids in a half-up/half-down style and was out the door in record time.
She even had a brief moment to throw the finger at Chelsea’s closed door, where Stella could hear her still snoring soundly.
It was days like these that made Stella wonder if she chose the wrong career path.
While she had to get up to go to work for a salary that was barely livable, Chelsea got to sleep in and was still able to cover more than half of their rent. So unfair.
Thankfully, the subway was on Stella’s side for once and she got to work with just enough time to grab a vanilla latte and ham and cheese croissant from the coffee place across the street.
She was supposed to be cutting back on buying food like that, but she decided she’d earned it since she was operating on maybe five hours of sleep at best.
Stella attempted to wake herself up by patting her cheeks as she walked into the office building.
Like most businesses in New York City, Yellow Sparks shared the building with a few other companies, including a yoga studio, a dentist office, and an independent book publisher that sometimes gave them free books in the hope of good reviews.
Yellow Sparks had the top floor, and Stella always had fun seeing who got off on what floor as the elevator made its way up. Unfortunately, today she had the elevator all to herself and there was no one to stop her thoughts from wandering back to Max.
And how his lips felt pressed to hers. Trailing down her neck. Then lower, until he was kneeling in front of her, his face between her thighs, tongue right on her—
Ding!
Stella hadn’t even realized she’d closed her eyes, but she quickly blinked them open as the elevator doors parted. As soon as she stepped out, she was hit with the hustle and bustle of the Yellow Sparks office.
Set up as an open floor plan, the space was wide and expansive, with large windows that let in plenty of natural light.
To her left was the kitchen area, which was constantly stocked with snacks (both healthy and unhealthy), a Keurig, fountain soda drinks, a sink, a microwave, and a couple rows of counter space with yellow barstools for people to sit and eat lunch.
Because it was Wednesday, there would be a catered lunch today, and Stella prayed it was good.
She’d have to check the company website when she got to her desk.
Past the kitchen, the office split. To the left was where the Spark News team sat, and to the right was where Yellow Sparks proper resided.
Although the space was divided, each side looked exactly the same.
There were rows of long white tables with desk chairs and MacBooks scattered every few feet along the tables.
Each laptop had a yellow sticker with the employee’s name to distinguish them from one another.
Yellow Sparks did not believe in cubicles and welcomed employees to feel comfortable moving around the office, working wherever they pleased.
So although everyone technically had a designated spot at a table, there were also couches, chairs, and beanbags where people could work.
There were conference rooms, too, each named after an iconic girl group for some reason.
These were for meetings but were also quiet rooms if people wanted to get away from the constant hum of noise that filled the office at any given time.
The conference rooms were all glass, though, so while they were quiet, they always gave the feeling of being in a fishbowl.
Stella made her way to her seat and found her friend Effie already in the chair next to hers.
“Good morning, Effie,” Stella said, cheerily sliding into her seat. The caffeine was kicking in, thank God.
Effie only gave a little finger wave, without looking up from her computer. Even though it was only ten minutes after nine (Stella inwardly applauded herself for being just ten minutes late), Effie already was hard at work in Photoshop, messing around with a graphic of Kristen Stewart.
“What are you doing?” Stella asked.
“Comparing Kristen Stewart’s looks to Bella Swan’s,” Effie said as if it was obvious.
“Of course,” Stella said, because now that she looked closer, it was kind of obvious.
Effie and Stella had been in the same editorial fellow class, but while Stella was hired for quizzes, Effie was brought on to join the content team.
Admittedly, Stella was a bit jealous at the time, but the truth was, Effie got the voice of Yellow Sparks way quicker than Stella did, and her content always made waves.
Unlike Stella, Effie hadn’t even applied for the editorial fellowship.
Her posts on Yellow Sparks Community, a subset of the website that allowed anyone to make their own Yellow Sparks lists and quizzes for free but also without compensation, had performed so well, she had been invited to join Stella’s fellowship class.
As the only two Black women in their group of four, Effie and Stella immediately clicked.
Or rather, Stella kept pestering Effie until eventually she relented and they got drinks outside work and then they clicked.
Regardless, Effie was one of the main reasons Stella enjoyed coming to work, and she truly didn’t know if she would’ve stuck around this long without her.
“You know, there’s no way you’re going to finish that before the pitch meeting,” Stella said as she turned on her computer.
“Not going,” Effie said quickly.
Stella sighed. “Of course not.”
The pitch meeting wasn’t mandatory. It was more like a voluntary brainstorm session, where instead of emailing Melanie ideas, people could bring them to the whole group and get feedback.
Effie didn’t really believe in feedback, so she rarely made an appearance.
The only person who had to be there was Melanie, and if she didn’t feel like going or was too busy doing her own stuff, she’d cancel the meeting.
Stella checked her calendar to make sure it was still on for today and was relieved to see it was. Then she frowned as her eyes scanned lower.
“Do you know what this mandatory all-staff meeting at four is?”
Effie didn’t even look up. “No clue. No one does. Everyone’s stressed.”
Stella blinked up from her screen and looked around.
There did seem to be an air of apprehension in the office, and Stella could easily imagine why.
Just yesterday, news had broken that Bustle was laying off twenty percent of its staff.
Before the holidays last year, Complex had let a solid chunk of its staff go, and before that, another news site had shuttered its doors.
Of course no one at Yellow Sparks felt safe. Stella could practically hear whispers around her saying, “We’re next.”
She turned to Effie, who appeared unbothered.
“And you’re not stressed?” Stella asked.
“I refuse to let myself worry about something that hasn’t happened yet,” Effie said. “If it’s bad, I’ll worry then. But for all we know, Miles could just be gathering us up to tell us we are, in fact, getting the holiday swag we didn’t get last year.”
Miles was the CEO of Yellow Sparks. Stella didn’t know much about him except that he was Black and allegedly a little out there, but what CEO wasn’t?
In years past, Yellow Sparks employees received a swag bag of Yellow Sparks merch at the end of the year to celebrate the holidays, along with a nice bonus check.
Last December, however, no swag bags were handed out, and the bonus checks were smaller than usual.
Truthfully, if it was a choice between the bag of stuff or money, Stella would always choose the money, but she did need a new hoodie.
“Alright, well, rather than stay around all these stressed-out people, why don’t you come to the pitch meeting with me?” Stella asked, turning her chair so she was facing Effie.
Stella had had an idea brewing in her head since last night, and she was ready to pitch. It would be nice to have Effie in the room as one solid vote of confidence, though.
“I have an idea,” Stella added, gleefully.
“And I’m sure it’s great,” Effie said. “You don’t need me there.”
“But I need moral support,” Stella whined.
“I shall support you from here.”
Stella scooted forward until her chair knocked into the side of Effie’s chair.
“Pleeeeease.”
Effie finally sighed and turned to face Stella. She was wearing her usual square black-rimmed glasses that always made her look more serious, and her dark blue curls were pulled up in her trademark I’m-in-the-zone messy bun.
“Pitch first, and I leave right after,” Effie said.
Stella squealed, which made a few heads turn in their direction, but they quickly moved on. Strange things were always happening in the Yellow Sparks office, and people had bigger fish to fry today.
“Thank you!”
She threw her arms around Effie in a hug, and Effie very lightly patted her back.
“Yes, yes, now let me get back to work,” Effie said, pulling away. “I have forty minutes until I will be forced from my chair.”
Stella scooted away again and gave her a mock salute.
“Aye, aye, captain!”