I'm sick and tired of hearing all about my life from other people

“Anderson! Nice work on the expose!” Holly’s boss, Ted, came by her desk with a big grin on his face. She smiled politely back at him.

Holly was the talk of the office at the Daily Post. Thanks to her story on a certain U.S. senator, bringing to light all the casual sexual harassment of his female clerks, the public was in an uproar. Different kinds of uproars, of course. One side was calling for him to be burned at the stake and demand that he be expelled from congress. Of course, the other side was saying it was a misunderstanding/not a big deal/let the voters vote him out if they don’t like it.

She had no idea how the firestorm would go, and frankly, that wasn’t the part of her job that concerned her. Even if he wasn’t expelled from the senate in order to maintain the tenuous political balance in D.C., she’d all but guaranteed he had lame-duck status. Another enemy of women, vanquished.

“Thank you, sir. A guy like that, using his position to **** his female employees? He deserves to have his future in politics ruined,” she proudly declared.

“You do good work,” Ted said, stroking his chin thoughtfully and offering her a winning smile. He leaned into her cubicle. “So, I was thinking, you’ve been working here for what, two years now? How do you feel about maybe going out to dinner with me sometime next week? We can talk about your future here. Sound like a plan?”

Zero. Fucking. Self-awareness.

Holly smiled politely back at him and told him she’d think about it. Finally, the sex pest left her alone. With a sigh, she sank back in her seat and returned to her article. This was NOT what she’d planned to use her degree in creative writing on. She’d wanted to be a fantasy author. Turns out, the real fantasy was her career.

So now she did this. Expose assholes who abused their power in order to expose their assholes. It made her sick. Holly tried to be a nice person. She really did. She treated everyone with the respect and kindness they deserved. But every day this job killed her a little more inside. Even if she didn’t have to deal with the casual sexual harassment from her boss, or the daunting worry that, as the only woman in the office, she’d only gotten the job because of diversity policies, she just did not like looking at the dark side of society like this.

What happened to that little girl who wanted to grow up to write picture books? How did she become this cynical, jaded mess?

She stared out the window, catching her reflection. She looked worn down. Exhausted. Her brown ponytail was more “messy” than “curly” and the makeup she was wearing to conceal the bags under her eyes was starting to fade. She was 27, and still couldn’t find a man worth trusting. The only guys who wanted her were the worst kind.

Was it too much to ask for a petite girl like herself to find a sweet gentleman who would hold her when she wanted him to, leave her alone when she wanted him to, and worship the ground she walked on?

No, she didn’t think it was.

I need a fucking vacation, that's what I need… she thought to herself. It was the last thought she had in that horrid office.

When the petite girl appeared in her seat, Nick knew that things had gone from bad to worse. His life had been filled with misfortune when it came to women; but Holly Anderson was in a class of her own.

Their eyes met, and she reeled back in her seat like he’d attacked her. Her jaw dropped open, and her cherubic features twisted into a furious glare.

Holly wasn’t as short as Dawn, but she was still pretty short. She was quite petite, but in a way she carried well, looking very much like an adorable girl. But that was all just a veneer. Beneath sweet smile and those warm eyes was a girl who had crushed Nick’s entire social life for reasons he still couldn’t fully understand.

“Presenting the fifth contestant for 'Harem Hotel: Island Holiday Season'!” Sylvia announced. Nick was too shaken by Holly’s presence to care about the applause, much to Sylvia’s disappointment. She continued regardless. “Miss Holly Anderson!”

“WHAT am I doing here?” Holly snapped, hopping out of her seat. “I was busy WORKING. What have you done to me, Nick, you jerk?”

She crossed her arms in front of her chest and stomped her foot in the sand. Nick didn’t even know what to say. Work? What did she do for work? Did it matter? He’d spent the last five years of his life trying to stay as far away from that witch as possible.

Sylvia smirked, and leaned back on her cane to watch the fireworks. If looks could kill, the little firecracker was like walking napalm, and Nick would be burned the second he opened his mouth. He’d come out of enough discussions with her to know that she would twist every word he said to make it seem like he was the scumbag. And people would believe her, too.

“Hey! Lay off him!”

Someone, shockingly, came to his aid. Dani stood up as well, towering over the small pixie girl.

“Who are you?” Holly squinted.

“I’m Nick’s friend,” Dani snapped. “And he’s not the one responsible for bringing us here! It’s her! That woman!”

She pointed at Sylvia, who held her hand over her chest and made a shocked “who, me?” expression.

“Sylvia River. At your service.”

“…Then what’s he doing here?” Holly demanded, sliding her glare back his way.

“I can answer that,” Sylvia declared. “But first, let’s continue with the introductions, shall we my girls? Since you so politely cut me off. Now, would the both of you sit back down, please?”

Holly scowled, but returned to her seat. Dani did the same.

“Now, where was I? Oh, yes. Holly Anderson! A former member of the Northridge University Writer’s Association, and a major crush of Nick’s, before they had a falling out. Now they aren’t even on speaking terms! Since then, she’s gone on to work for an online paper, the Daily Post, as a reporter!”

A reporter. Of fucking course. Nick shook his head. He should have guessed. It couldn’t have been more perfect. The girl who had badmouthed him to half of campus after ending their friendship was a reporter.

“That’s me,” Holly grunted. “Now what am I doing here?”

Sylvia raised her eyebrow. “You know, Holly, your bio says you’re shy. But I’m not seeing much of that right now.”

Holly scowled back at her.

“…Moving on. As I was saying, you’ve been selected as a contestant on this show. While you’re here, you’ll be competing with these fine ladies for the chance of a position in Nick’s harem!”

“Harem?” She snorted in disbelief. “You’re kidding me.”

“Totally serious.”

“A harem. In THIS day and age? For THAT guy?”

“Yeppers.”

“You’re crazy. Totally crazy.”

“That is also true.”

“I’m not doing this! Nick and I have nothing more to say to each other, not after that jerk spread those lies about me! I don’t want any part of this, so take me back right now!” Holly demanded.

Sylvia narrowed her eyes, and her smirk took on an air of malevolence. “Oh… no, you won’t be going back my girl, none of you will be. At least… not yet.”

Everyone froze. Sylvia’s playfulness had completely vanished. Holly closed her mouth and scrunched up into a ball on her seat, and that shyness Sylvia had alluded to finally made its presence known.

“That’s more like it. Don’t worry, Holly, I know that you and the master don’t get along very well after all those misunderstandings,” she said, shaking her head. “But now’s the chance to change that! Nothing excites an audience more than a story of two enemies becoming lovers, wouldn’t you agree?”

Holly glared at Nick with tears in her eyes. “No way,” she hissed, wiping her face. “Never.”

“…Well, that’s a pity. It looks like we’re not ready for healing just yet.”

For once, Nick and Holly were in perfect agreement. He still had a lot of questions over how things had happened the way they did, but he didn’t expect to get any answers from her. Nor did he want them. How could Sylvia think she was a good fit for his harem?

“But don’t worry, Holly, you won’t be all alone here! Our next contestant happens to be a very close friend of yours!”

She perked up at that. “R-Really?”

“That’s right! A fellow writer and another girl in Northridge University’s Writer’s Association, all the way from her farm in Tennessee!”