As soon as the elevator doors open onto the 8th floor, I hear Maddy shout me from the desk on reception.

"Late again, huh, Michigan?" Maddy is the type of girl who watches films and sees girls get called by their hometown by their enemies. Maddy is also the type of girl who wears denim skirts and see through shirts.

"What? Yeah, I'm sorry. Jeez, um, Maddy will you let Andy know I need to see him." I say, struggling to register anything she says after the major screw-a-thon Guy and I had in the shower.

"You always need to see him." She says, under her breath, picking up the phone and tapping the numbers with her trampy nails.

As I hear a voice down the other end of the phone, I laugh quietly to myself. She can't even see him, yet she's sticking her breasts forward, and licking her huge lips suggestively, like porno film star. It's here that I take a little moment to thank God that I'm not like that.

"Yeah, Sarah's here." She says, huskily. Flicking her eyes up at me, but getting her false eyelash caught in her heavy fringe. "Uh huh. Ok baby, I'll tell her to come through. Would you uhh..."

She lowers her voice. "...like me to work late tonight?"

I cackle, but stifle it.

"Oh... that's ok. It doesn't matter. I got a hot date."

I grin smugly. Andy is a player, but he knows where to draw the line.

"He'll see you now." Maddy hisses, slamming down the phone and letting her breath go. Like a balloon, her chest deflates. "You're like... gee, I don't know... a hooker, Sarah."

She smiles at me, fake.

I begin to walk. I smile at her, fake.

"Better that than a substitute." I call back at her, knowing that I have won the battle, but not the war.

I knock on Andy's door. It's brown oak, with a glass panel that says: EDITOR IN CHEIF. I imagine they kept it from the 20s, as this building is ancient, and I suppose he thinks it adds a vintage touch. I actually think its pretty sleazy.. He opens it for me, and waves me in. Andy is a muscled, yet fairly built guy. He looks every inch your average businessman, and has short brown hair, spiked slightly at the front. I am in no way attracted to him, which makes this whole arrangement easier for me. With Andy, I feel like I am in control.

"Hi Sarah." He shuts the door, and immediately pulls me towards him. I smile, but pull away from him and take a seat in front of his desk.

"Honey, what's wrong? You're not normally like this." He's right.

"I need to talk to you."

His expression immediately goes blank, and he sits down behind the table, kicking his feet up onto the top.

"What's wrong?"

"Andy... I think this... we have to stop..." I whisper. I'm not attracted to him, but I sure am terrified of what he could do.

"You're feeling guilty, baby, aren't you?" He sighs, undoing his tie. "Well, Sarah, I'm not gonna lie. Its a little too late for that don't you think?" He's right.

"Yeah..."

He gets up from his chair, and walks around the back of me, holding my shoulders and rubbing them. It feels good, but I can't show him that, can I?

"Honey," he whispers, right in my ear. "You need to relax... Chill out. Guy's never gonna find out. It's cool, baby. You know that."

Actually i don't know that. Guy's offices are pretty much three blocks away, and his PR firm work closely with the paper. Guy and Any frequently see each other, and it scares the shit out of me.

Andy bites my ear. I gasp in surprise.

"No!" I say, pushing myself up, angrily. "Are you not listening to me?! We have to stop. This whole thing! It has to end!"

He walks over to me, inches away from my face.

"Sarah. For the past seven months, I've been willing to overlook the fact that you stole from us-"

"That was seven months ago, Andy!! I needed the money, I don't anymore. I've been cheating on my boyfriend for seven months! Don't you think it's time you let it go?" I yell.

"Something tells me that if you still call Guy your 'boy-friend' then it isn't gonna go any further. It's been seven months, and he has no clue whatsoever. You're a good liar, Sarah. You enjoy yourself, I enjoy myself, we both enjoy it! Are you telling me you didn't?"

I can't lie to him, because I really, really did enjoy it. But I can't do this any longer. Every night, just before I leave work, feeling used as hell, I imagine Guy. I imagine what he'd do if he knew. It'd make me feel better if I thought that he'd be angry, and hurt me, but the fact is that Guy is just too nice, and he could never be angry like that. If Guy found out then he'd be torn in two, and distraught, and heartbroken, and it was that that has tore me apart for the last seven months. I know I'm in too deep now. If I told him he'll end with me. I can't do that. I need Guy to live, but if I stop screwing Andy then that's inevitable. It's the wrong thing, to be done for the right. I look up at Andy and I loathe him. I hate him. The time of which this was exciting and new has passed and at this moment I can't look him in the eye.

"Of course I did.... I still do! But I can't, Andy, I can't!! Please!"

"Then what's the problem? Come on baby," he steps closer to me. "If you wanna end this, then fine... Do it. But I will fire you, I will tell Guy, and you will not get a good recommendation."

I look up at his face, and feel nothing for him. He wants me to please him. I reach to undo the top button on my shirt. But I can't do it. I can't.

I have to.

"This is blackmail..." I whisper, stepping back from him, or rather, thudding back from him. My tears have overwhelmed me and I can no longer be dainty, or be sexy. I lean on the desk, and stifle a tear. What is wrong with me?! I feel cheap. I feel used, and I feel guilty. But I need the money, and I don't want Guy to find out. It's ok though, right? I feel nothing for this man. I am doing this for Guy. No one else, but for Guy. It's casual... Blackmail sex. But if it means nothing, why do I still want him?

He steps forward.

"Blackmail... But you love it." He whispers in my ear, his hand wandering slightly. I slap it away, feeling thoroughly disgusted, but I can see that he is taken aback. Shit. So I go into Maddy mode. My breasts pushed forward and my lips pouted. What the fuck am I doing? Feeling the tears in my eyes again, I frantically search for a reaction. Smiling at him, pretending to enjoy this, I push him against the wall and rub my hand over his chest. My stomach churns, and I choose to leave before I hurl all over his desk.

"Um.. yeah.." I say, wiggling out of his office. I have made him sweat. But I feel as cheap as that freaking woman on reception. What have I done? This isn't fair. What have I done?

I walk past Maddy on reception and back into the elevator, with my suit jacket slung over my shoulder and my shirt buttoned down past my bra.

"Where are you going, Jersey?" she yells at me.

"A walk." I shout back, as the elevator doors start to close. "I'm sure you can do without me until we go to press."

Note to self: grow some balls.

As the doors slowly thud shut, I slide to the floor, and curl up as far as my pencil skirt will allow me too. And there, I cry. I think of Guy. How can I do this to him? I love him. Yet I decide to cheat, and keep cheating for pleasure and for myself. I sob, as the mascara starts to run and my eyes begin to blur. Losing my vision slightly, I stab at the buttons on the elevator, and after a few seconds it starts to move downwards towards the ground floor. I slam the back of my head against the wooden wall, and curse myself. Pulling my wavy hair back from my face, I pull it slightly in my fist as... I don't know... a punishment?

It doesn't take the metal elevator that long to reach the ground floor, a good thing maybe. As soon as the doors open, I hurry out past the guy from accounting who looks scruffy in his suit, holding a piece of crumple paper in his hand. As I head out onto the streets of NYC, I think about what could be on his piece of paper. Maybe he too is thinking of handing in his resignation. I don't really know where I'm going. It's September and it's freezing cold in NYC. The building looks smaller in my sadness, though I don't know why. I look to the right of me, at the two towering buildings, one of which Guy will be sitting in now, working away at his desk in his teeny office. They stand out against the skyline. For a moment, I think of turning back, and going to tell Andy where to stick it, but I'm not that brave. Still sobbing, I pull out my BlackBerry and send a three lettered text to Guy. I know exactly where the keys are on the touch screen, that I can do it without looking.

X X X

I take a left, and continue walking until way past lunch.