I don’t want to say my article on Nicky Fielding broke the internet, but, in truth, it broke the internet. The Friday it dropped on GLOW’s homepage, we had a record-breaking amount of views, according to our analytics team. Danny sent an email to the whole team, letting them know that it had been well-received, propping me up like I was a Pulitzer-winning journalist or something.
Big things are happening on the farm, I texted Lottie. It was almost an exercise in creative writing, filtering what was happening in my real life into Martha’s so I could share with Lottie. My son, Owen, shows his sheep at the fair, and one just sold for a lot of money! I’m so proud of him!
That’s so cool! Lottie said. I have no idea what that entails, but big congrats to him.
He’s worked so hard. I’m thrilled it ended up this way. How are you feeling?
Okay, she said. A little crampy. Is that normal?
Totally! Everything is moving around, making room for your growing babe. Don’t worry.
Should I go to the doctor?
I wouldn’t, I said. But this is your first pregnancy so do what your instincts are telling you. Keep me posted, okay?
Lottie promised she would, and I moved on to categorizing more of the baby items that kept showing up. I had a spreadsheet for the whole enterprise. I would list what the item was, how much it retailed for, and how much I was going to try and sell it for. If I sold them all for their top value, it wouldn’t be long before I’d be able to book a vacation.
Danny texted me later in the afternoon: Come by the office, we need to celebrate! My cheeks warmed. I hadn’t seen him since the night of our kiss, but it wasn’t because I’d been waiting around for him.
My Discord group was popping off, and Martha’s Instagram was only becoming more and more popular by the day. The pregnancy had been a genius move on my part, and I’d even had some invitations in my DMs to come on podcasts.
I was weighing the option of whether or not that was worth it, but despite the risk, it sounded like fun. I’d recently posted a new “bump” picture, which was me standing with a pillow under one of my new milkmaid dresses, backlit against the one window in my apartment. I shot it in such a way that you couldn’t see my face, only my silhouette.
The whole thing felt very silly, but it paid off. People ate it up, and I accompanied the photo with posts about how I planned another homebirth, which, predictably, set off a whole new section of the internet. I was pretty sure some of the people who replied actually wanted Martha to die in childbirth, if only to teach some faceless trad wife out there who dared to consider homebirth a lesson.
When I got to the office, the whole team was there to surprise me. The common area was open concept, of course, complete with desks and work stations for the writers to use when we were in the office. There were the standard industrial touches like exposed venting and brick walls, and furniture in colors so bright it hurt your eyes if you looked at it for too long. A catwalk ran overhead, and someone had hung streamers from it, pink and blue like they were leftover from a gender reveal party.
Balloons decorated the space, and there was a small snack table with food and drinks. GLOW had pulled out all of the stops. Jordan beamed, holding out a bottle of champagne. I’d never seen the office go all out for anyone before, but then again, no one had done what I had done.
“Congrats,” she said, wrapping me in a hug. “You’re doing exactly what you wanted to be doing. Also, this dress.” I was still wearing the milkmaid dress from my earlier photoshoot. “A new Hannah Chambers for a new famous writer era. I love.”
Danny came up next to her, and after she let me go, gave me a grin. “I have a feeling things are going to change for you, in the best way. I’ve already had a call with John about the reception the article is getting. He wants you on all of the morning shows, he wants you on podcasts, all as a talking head expert on trad wives. Act surprised when he calls you, okay? I couldn’t keep it a secret.”
I could barely grasp what he was saying. I’d never considered stuff like that a possibility for someone like me. “What?”
He nodded. “You’re destined for big things. And after we’ve properly celebrated you, I have some more ideas for what you can do next.”
“This is unbelievable. And overwhelming.”
“Don’t worry.” His eyes crinkled, and he squeezed my hand. “I’m right here next to you.”
I squeezed it back. “Well, then I have nothing to worry about.”
Jordan popped her champagne, and someone else passed out plastic glasses. The entire office cheersed to me, and everything in my periphery blurred. It was a surreal moment as any, the bubbles racing down my throat, the people crowded around me. It didn’t feel like I’d reached my peak in regards to what I wanted to do with my life, it felt like things were just starting to get good.
People I’d never spoken to came by to congratulate me, to pick my brain, to ask me to collaborate with them on projects. I’d never been well-known around the office, but clearly, things had changed. Everyone wanted a part of me, and it felt great.
The champagne was still buzzing through my veins as the party broke up, and then it was just me and Danny left in the office, lounging on the furniture in the common area. He propped his feet onto my lap. “I’m proud of you, kid.”
I elbowed him in the side. “Kid? I’m not that much younger than you, pal.”
“Okay, fine, you want me to call you ‘ma’am’?”
“You can just call me Hannah.”
He smiled, pulling me up and tilting my face towards him. He took it in his hands and kissed, sweetly and slowly.
“I’m not sure we should be doing this at work,” I murmured as he pushed me back on the sofa and climbed on top of me.
“I know,” he said. “But you’re making it a tiny bit difficult.”
“Oh, am I?” I kissed him back, and before I could help myself, my hand was sliding up under his shirt. “Let me know, and I can stop.”
“Definitely don’t stop,” he groaned, and that was the last thing I wanted to do, despite being in the least sexy setting ever.
“Ahem.”
Danny sprang off of me, and I stood up, straightening my clothes. Heat rushed to my face when I saw one of the janitors standing off to the side with his cleaning cart.
“I’m not trying to interrupt,” he said, and it looked like he was trying not to smile. “But I need to vacuum this area.”
“Sorry,” I muttered.
Danny motioned to his office and went over to talk to the man. I let my face cool down while I shot off a post about one of Martha’s cows going into labor the night before. People loved it when I talked about farm babies, so I’d have to invent a reason to get some more. Maybe Martha wanted to try shepherding. Then she could have babies every year, right?
Danny interrupted my train of thought, and I stuffed my phone in my pocket.
Thanks for reading a little too online! This post is public so feel free to share it.
“Okay, crisis averted,” he said, running his hands through his hair. “Sorry about that. I got too carried away out there. I wasn’t thinking about your professional reputation. I don’t want people to think you’re getting where you are because you’re hooking up with me.”
“Hooking up? Is that what we’re doing here?” I wasn’t sure where I was going with that, but I suddenly needed clarity on what was going on between us.
“I…I kind of hope it’s a little more than just hooking up?”
“Me, too.” I glanced around to make sure no one was watching and kissed him again, pressing myself into him.
“Sorry,” he said when he pulled away. “I just said I wasn’t going to do that here.”
“Takes two to tango,” I said, and he smiled. “We’ll see if I can ever show my face around the office again after that.”
“Nah, don’t worry about it.”
“Danny, I’m going to forever worry about that. It’s ingrained in my mind. I’ll be thinking about the look on the janitor’s face when I’m falling asleep for the rest of my life.”
“I would ask you more about what you think about when you fall asleep, but I’m going to be a grown-up because I do have something work-related I’m dying to ask you about.”
“Are you sure this wasn’t a ploy to get me in here alone?”
“We can pick up that thread later,” he said. “But there’s this new influencer I was thinking about asking you to get an interview with. She’s everything you love to cover, and I’m dying to see if there’s something she’s hiding, because no one is this perfect.”
“Oh?” My ears perked up. I was already chomping at the bit for the next story that could take me even farther. It wasn’t that I didn’t have drive before this; it was that I hadn’t been rewarded for having drive up until this point. I had momentum, and I wasn’t going to let it get away from me.
“I think you’re going to eat her up,” he went on. “Like, you were made for this one. My friend who got us in with Nicky told me about her, god, I should pay her a commission or something. But anyway, this woman is newer to the scene, but she’s made a big splash. Her following is doubling like, every week. She’s all over socials, I’ve seen people talking about her on all of the apps. She even has her own snark page on Reddit, which, I’m going to be honest with you, I’m kind of addicted to.”
At that, my hackles went up, but he kept talking. “She’s never done any interviews. I don’t know if she wants to, or if she’s refusing, but I bet you could get her to agree to an interview. If anyone can, it’s you.”
I knew exactly what was coming next, but I held out hope I was wrong.
“Her name is Martha.”
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