NSFW

by Piper Lawson

“You can’t honestly think I’m like him.”

  “You’re smart. You’re good-looking. Educated.”

  Pain flashed across Avery’s face.

  “I’d have done anything for him, just like I’d do anything for you. And that’s the problem.”

  “I’d never ask you to do something you shouldn’t.”

  “But you don’t know what’s best for me. And I don’t have the strength to say no.” I took a steadying breath.

  “So what do we do.”

  “I think you were right that I need to figure out what I want to be. Who I want to be. And I can’t wait around for someone else to tell me who I can be.”

  “And you can’t figure that out with me.”

  “I can’t.” I realized as I said the words that they were true.

  The frustration on his face, the anguish, tore at my heart even as he nodded. “OK. But promise me something. When you figure it out…let me know.”

  I sucked in a breath, peering up at his handsome face. “You’ll be the first.”

  He pulled me into a hug that had me desperate to take it back. To beg him to take me home with him, to make everything go away.

  But I had to be strong. Not just to survive, not just for the person I was, but for the person I could be.

  Avery let me go after a minute, and with a trembling smile, I turned away.

  31

  Little Steps

  Where do you start when you’re trying to figure out your life?

  One of my favorite blogs says cleaning.

  It seems a little pat. But what the hell.

  Here’s the thing about cardboard boxes. They’re great for holding things. But they’re generic. Sterile. They can hide their contents. You don’t know if what’s inside is a stack of boring papers. Or…

  A Rockettes costume.

  I used a kitchen knife to cut through the tape on the first and pulled back the cardboard. Clothes. Sweaters, pants. Dresses. My grandmother’d had a hell of a sense of style, even in her later years.

  Jewelry was at the bottom. She’d insisted on the pearl earrings every day.

  I made a pile on the couch of clothes that could be donated. The little jewelry box I put in my room. I wanted to keep it as a memory of her.

  I took a breath. That wasn’t so bad.

  For the first time since seeing Avery the day before, I felt a hint of something.

  I couldn’t name the feeling, but it was something other than numbness. Other than questioning whether I’d done the right thing by keeping him at bay.

  The second box contained photos. Ones of her and of my grandfather. Even ones of my mom. Some of me and my brothers as kids. Matt and Jimmy and me sitting on a log by the water. Me missing my front teeth, Jimmy sticking out his tongue at me. Matt holding up a fish he’d caught in the pond, ignoring both of us.

  Next were newspaper clippings of her with the Rockettes. Then there were photos of me. Dance recitals.

  Recent ones of me visiting her in the retirement home. Those were on the bottom instead of the top, as if they weren’t her favorites.

  When I got to the bottom, my chest collapsed. The envelope was addressed to me.

  A photo and a lined sheet of paper fell out. The photo was of me and my grandparents a couple years after I’d first come to Boston. We were at Boston Common, and I was smiling for the first time in a long time.

  I set the photo gently on the table in front of me, then turned the letter over in my fingers.

  Charlie,

  * * *

  I remember the little girl who came to live with us after running away from home. What a resilient, beautiful woman you’ve become.

  * * *

  I know you’ve had a difficult path. But people with difficult paths are the most interesting. It saddens me that I won’t be there to see all of yours, but I know you’ll make the best of everything that comes your way.

  * * *

  If you could remember one thing I’ve told you… Don’t hide from your mistakes. Don’t run from the things that scare you. Your regrets and your fears are part of you. The only way to move forward is to know yourself. To be proud of who you are, no matter what you came from. It’s not always easy, but little steps add up.

  * * *

  You’ve brought more joy to all of us than you could ever know.

  * * *

  Love forever,

  Grandma G.

  * * *

  I shifted back on the couch, my chest expanding like I’d run up ten flights of stairs. As stupid as it sounded, I swore I could feel her there with me.

  Fuck, I wished she was there.

  I read it again. And a third time for luck.

  One by one, I took the magnets off my fridge and the pictures of nail art, celebrities, and dirty jokes with them. I put the letter square in the middle. Surrounding it, I put the pictures from her box.

  I crossed to the fire escape, looking through the window. On impulse I lifted the sill and reached for Trevor’s lightweight pot. I brought it to the kitchen and held it under the running water for a moment before setting it on the counter.

  My fingers reached for the blue envelope leaning against the wall.

  Just holding it in my hand felt brave.

  Little steps.

  I opened it.

  That felt even braver.

  32

  I Don’t Want to Be the Rock

  “Which of these says, ‘I’m over you all but I’m not a total bitch’?” I held up the red dress and the coral dress.

  “Since when do you care?” Payton mused.

  “True.” I tossed them both on the cash register and handed over my credit card.

  The dresses were on sale, and I’d just gotten an offer from a footwear store to do guest blogs on their site. I hadn’t touched my gram’s life insurance except to pay the expenses on her estate, and I didn’t want to.

  “I’m proud you’re going to this wedding, Charlie. It’s ballsy.”

  “Yeah, well. It’s part of the new Charlie. Plus, I need to go and say something embarrassing. Get Jimmy back for the time he and his friends snuck into junior prom and spiked the punch with ipecac.”

  “Well, I should get back to work,” Payton said as I took my card back from the cashier. “I have a ton of appointments this afternoon. Seems like things are settling down after all the Hollister media circus. We also have an information session on Avery’s program tomorrow. It’s getting rolled out.”

  “That’s great.”

  “Redpath certainly seems to think so. He keeps talking about growing corporate banking. You and Avery never talk, huh?”

  I took the bag from the cashier and turned for the door. “It’s only been a couple weeks. It feels soon.”

  “But you’re looking for jobs. And you’re going to classes.”

  I nodded. I’d signed up to audit a couple of summer classes at the college, including the women’s studies one Kenna was in and another in communications. I’d even paid for them.

  “If there’s one thing spending five hours a week with bright-eyed nineteen-year-olds has taught me, it’s ambition. These kids see their whole lives ahead of them, and it’s contagious. I want to find something I’m excited to get up for in the morning. Surviving’s not enough.”

  “Oh! Before I forget.” Payton opened her massive shoulder bag and pulled out a bottle of wine. “Rose said you left this in your desk. She didn’t want you to be without it.”

  I laughed. “It’s not mine. But I can make sure it gets where it’s going.”

  I peeled off the note taped to it.

  Wasn’t sure what this was for but figured you’d know.

  * * *

  Things are good here, but you’re missed. Avery’s a hardass. Not sure if you knew that. Being a director’s a learning curve, but he’s trying.

  * * *

  Speaking of Avery…he asked me if you and I were friends. I told him we were, but I hadn’t seen you since you left.


  * * *

  He said if I did, I should say hi.

  * * *

  Naturally, I told him I would.

  * * *

  So hi.

  The feeling in my chest was warm. I knew it wasn’t anything. Still…

  I’m going to take the liberty of telling him hi back.

  * * *

  I’m a romantic at heart, and I’ve seen the way you guys look at each other. So I’m pulling for you.

  * * *

  Hugs,

  * * *

  Rose

  * * *

  PS – you know Martin in the cafeteria? He’s seriously cute.

  I laughed for the first time in what felt like forever. Then pulled out my phone and rang my old extension.

  “Avery Banks’ office.”

  “You should,” I said, smiling as I put my sunglasses on.

  “Should what?”

  “Ask Martin out. He’s a rockstar. And tell Avery I say hi.”

  We made plans to meet up the following week, then I decided to walk the twenty minutes to LIVE.

  The heat wave had broken, and I’d put on a flowy blouse and a pencil skirt with flats that morning.

  “Hello?” I called as I stepped inside.

  No response. I wove my way toward the main room.

  Mia’s sultry voice came over the microphone. “And that’s when I told him he could keep it.” She stood in jeans and a tank top on stage.

  “Hey. Am I interrupting?”

  “Nope. Just doing a soundcheck for tonight.” She knelt down and hopped off the stage, crossing to me.

  “I wanted to drop off this bottle of wine as a thank you. Better late than never, right?”

  “Oooh, company wine. I didn’t know I’d made that many fans. That mean I’m coming back next year?”

  “Not up to me. I’m not working at Alliance. But you might get a call from Geoffrey Siskinds, who owns a bazillion restaurants.”

  “First, that’s awesome. Second, what happened?” Mia asked as she took the card and bottle of wine from my hands.

  “Technically I got fired. A month ago. For pulling pranks. By the guy I ended up sleeping with. Dating. Whatever.” I shook my head.

  Her brown eyes sparked. “OK, now you have to tell me. I’ll open this.”

  She retreated to the bar, grabbing two glasses and a bottle opener, and brought them back to the stage. We hopped up on the edge, and I proceeded to tell her some of my highlight reel. Within five minutes she was laughing, a low, throaty sound.

  “I love your sense of humor,” she said. “We have the same taste. But a lot of people don’t want to hear the truth. Especially from a woman. My parents are in the entertainment business, but they warned me against this. Said there’s not room for women in comedy, that every gig is harder, a career almost impossible. The success stories are so few and far between.”

  Passion surged up in me. “That’s bullshit, Mia. First, you should be selling out every night. Women have a different perspective on the world. On relationships, on work, on life. It’s only a matter of time before people see that.”

  “Yeah, well, our YouTube has a few thousand views.”

  “There are ways to change that.”

  “Like what?”

  I considered. “I can share it with fifty thousand people. That’s a start.”

  “Huh. My business partner and I are trying to hire a promoter. Hey Jack,” she hollered to a guy walking past with a cell in his ear.

  He tapped the phone, but she shook her head. “Let me call you back,” he said, hanging up. “What is it, Mi?”

  “How’s that promoter spot going?”

  “Interviewing tomorrow.”

  She looked at me. I forced my throat to swallow the gulp of wine in my mouth instead of choking on it.

  “Promoting LIVE? Would you consider me?”

  “What’s your experience?”

  “If you mean can I make sure people notice you? That I can do.”

  He didn’t so much as blink. “Can you also do schedules? I’m up to my neck in coordinating the weekly events. Plus we have specials through here every few weeks. Bookings, private shit like the show you wanted.” I nodded. “Then come in for an interview tomorrow at one.”

  “I have an emergency.”

  “What is it?” Payton demanded over the phone that night.

  “A job interview.”

  “You and I have different definitions of ‘emergency.’”

  I shoved my hand in my pocket to force myself to stop picking at the nails I’d just done. “Yeah, well, I really want this.”

  I told her the little bit about the gig I’d learned from Jack and Mia.

  “That sounds perfect for you. Do you want to roleplay?”

  “Payton, if this is some kind of kinky sex shit from the deranged brain of a pregnant lady, now’s really not the time.”

  “No, I mean role play your interview.”

  “Oh! Yes. Let’s do it.”

  We talked for an hour. I was afraid to hang up, because this mattered. I wanted this.

  With the wanting came the fear.

  It reared its ugly head the next day as I brushed out my crazy hair. Put on some dangly earrings, boots over my leggings.

  When I showed up to meet Jack, I had a battle on my hands. I hoped to hell I looked composed.

  After twenty minutes of questions like “Why do you think you’d be a good fit” and “What’s your experience managing conflict,” he set down the stack of papers.

  “I’m sure there’re a lot more I’m supposed to ask. But I downloaded this questionnaire from the internet this morning. I’ve never hired someone other than a bartender or an accountant. I’ve been working on this place five years. Saved for it working other people’s bars for ten before that. It’s my heart and soul. Since I was a kid I wanted a club like this, worked my ass off for it. I need to know you’re going to take care of it.”

  I shifted on my stool and looked around the space. The beautiful wood bar. The stage, empty but full of potential. All of it sent a surge of excitement through me.

  “I spent the first eighteen years of my life making mistakes. Lots of them. Long story short, I told myself it was easier not to care about anything. Anyone. But I’m starting to think I was wrong about that.

  “We had this pond down the road from our house growing up. My brothers and I used to skip rocks on it. It’d leave all these ripples, but moments later, the rock would sink to the bottom of the pond and the ripples would be gone.”

  “You don’t want to be the ripples.”

  “I don’t want to be the rock.” I reached for his clipboard and flipped it over. “I want to make a difference, Jack. I need that. Need somewhere I can build something. And I think that’s here.”

  He studied me for a long time. “Where can I call for a reference?”

  “See you Gladys. Peter.” I waved goodbye to my class at the retirement home and packed up the boas and records. I’d been surprised and pleased when they’d called to ask if I was still going to come. So I still went once a week.

  I’d just brushed through the front doors when my phone rang.

  “Charlie. It’s Jack. Can you stop by?”

  I made my way over to the bar as fast as I could, nerves clawing in my stomach. Since my interview, I’d found myself thinking of ideas for the place. For special nights. Ways to attract new business. If only I’d brought those to the interview. But it was too late.

  When I arrived, Jack wasn’t at the front, so I went into the back, calling his name. Stuck my head in what must’ve been his office but came up empty.

  “There you are.” I found him hauling boxes out of what looked like a big broom closet. He dusted his hands off on his jeans.

  “I heard from your reference this afternoon.”

  I forced a smile. Wiped away the sweat on my palms. “And?”

  “He had some strong opinions. He said you’re smart and resourceful. That you’re unp
redictable but you’re better than anyone who can be controlled. That I should hide the cookies, whatever that means. That you care about the right things more than the rules, and that I should hire you twice if I got the chance.”

  I swallowed the lump in my throat.

  “In short, it was high praise from some director at a bank.”

  “Sounds like it,” I said softly.

  Jack reached for a shelf in the closet. He pulled something off it and tossed it at me. I caught the black fabric and held up the t-shirt with white lettering on it. “LIVE” stared back at me.

  “This is the uniform?”

  “This is the signing bonus. Wear what you want. And this—” he pointed to the closet “—is your office. Gimme twenty-four hours to get it cleaned out and get a desk in there for you. You need other stuff, you let me know and I’ll get it for you. Anything you do need?”

  “A desk lamp?”

  “I’ll get one tomorrow.”

  I followed him with my eyes as his disappeared into the back.

  I turned around the closet, my eyes landing on a poster that was crinkling at the edges. I smoothed over it with my fingers.

  It said “LIVE Grand Opening” and was dated five years ago.

  I’d been in a dark place five years ago, just when this place was being born.

  I could be part of this. Write myself a new story. Help Jack and Mia build something.

  The hope that’d been sparking inside me for the last couple of weeks expanded until it filled my chest. I’d read the letter from Grams nearly every day. I hadn’t known what it meant, but I’d had faith in the words. Because they were her words.

  Now, staring at the t-shirt in my hands, I got it.