Corsets and Quartets

by DeSimone, Mercy

  Usually, I make myself available as an extra set of hands on the floor to cover breaks and lunches. It's never a good thing to leave your team alone too much, because they get strange ideas when they're unsupervised and not being held accountable for their actions. Instead, I continue to hide in my office, trying to breathe through the constriction in my chest as I wait for the fallout. Unfortunately, it's not much of a bunker. I'd need a lot more insulation to shield me.

  As for my rather clueless ant companion, judging by his repetitive motions, he clearly needs my supervision more. Scraping my chair back to stand, my heels click across the floor as I park my foot directly in front of my hapless invader, watching him circle for the ninth time.

  With one quick stomp of my heel, I end his suffering. Poor deluded bastard. I just couldn't watch him while away endlessly on a path that was getting him nowhere. I'm sure he thought it had purpose. As someone who's walked that path before, I know a clean break is always kinder. No good comes of letting things drag on. I've never relished being the executioner, but the first cut is always the deepest. Peace out!

  The buzz of my phone vibrating on the desk takes me back to my task at hand, which is denying my blind trust in someone that I thought had my back. The screen shows Mark's number, so I hit decline and go back to my inkblot self-psychoanalysis.The buzzing repeats, and I pretend to ignore it, my eyes tracking to the screen and then shying away quickly from Mark's number again.

  Another round of buzzing heralds a call from Heath. Did he instinctively know something is wrong or has Mark clued him in? Declining that call as well, I continue to wait. Until final judgment is handed down, I can't spare the emotional bandwidth to deal with anything else, especially when I know that whatever discussion comes next needs deliberate thought and consideration.

  How has no one noticed up until now that this ink stain looks exactly like a star exploding? I wonder if there are any survivors. Or did it just generate a huge black hole in the universe?

  Again with the buzzing. Poised to hit decline once more, I snatch it up quickly when I see Patsy's number on the screen.

  "What's the verdict?"

  "It's a damn good thing you've been having a stellar year. I'm not going to sugarcoat it, you're skating on some seriously thin ice right now. There's a few who believe that you're on a downward spiral and that you're circling the drain."

  "Christ, how many times have I met my numbers when nobody else has? It's not like I operate on dumb luck. I've kept this store in the top ten for more than five years. Haven't I earned some slack?"

  "You have, which is probably the only reason you still have a job right now. Anyone else probably would have been out. I have to tell you, Josie, I'm concerned about your focus lately. It seems like your heart isn't in it anymore. I've seen this before. Are you looking for a way out? Tell me now, because I'm not putting my neck on the line for you any longer if you're not one hundred percent in. This isn't just about you, I have an entire region to protect. And honestly, you're bringing me down!"

  "Of course I'm in." My voice tightens, the words barely able to escape. "I'm committed to this store. I have had a few other things going on lately, but I'll make sure they don't get in the way again. I didn't realize how much it was pulling my focus."

  "Good. You've done a lot in your market. I'd hate to think that you've peaked. Please don't make me replace you."

  "On board. One hundred percent."

  "Ok. I've told them you were dealing with some personal issues to try to garner some sympathy. As long as you run a tight ship from here on we should be able to get through this. Unfortunately, if we can't find something else to replace all that wasted advertising money in your budget, it's probably going to kill year-end bonuses no matter how well you do in fourth quarter. Personally, I was planning on using my share of that to pay off my kid's braces. So remember, your actions affect everyone."

  "I'll make it up to you, Patsy."

  "Just keep your nose clean from here on in. No more screw ups, because I won't go to bat for you again."

  "It won't be necessary." Relief wars with regret as I realize what my distractions cost me.

  This wasn't the way it was supposed to happen. Dreams are only good when they become fully realized and allow you to replace something else. Unfortunately, for most of us, no matter how pretty the dreams are, we always wake up.

  The hard truth is that unrealized dreams become nightmares that taunt and terrorize. The only way to block them is to not dream at all.

  From now on, I vow to keep my sleep dreamless. Anything else is just a waste of time.

  Chapter 39

  Truth and Consequences

  Now that my fate has been officially sealed, I can plan. Taking a deep, but ragged breath, I grab a pen and notepad and start making a to-do list. I'm still hunched over my desk two hours later when I jump from the weight of Nate's hand hitting my shoulder.

  "Hey, what's going on? Maria said you've been hiding in here all day. That's not like you." Ignoring the concern on his face, I flip the notepad and launch into my string of thoughts.

  "We need to start recruiting immediately. I want the best seasonal help we can find. I'm not dealing with idiots and slackers anymore. If they're not professional, I want them off my floor."

  "Ok."

  "Everybody's getting a sales goal. If they don't meet it, they're gone. I'm doing a meeting every morning twenty minutes before opening with mandatory attendance. You don't show up, you're gone. I want you to repeat it in the afternoon for the evening shift before they hit the floor."

  "Josie, what—"

  "I'm flipping my schedule. I'll be here daily. I'm also making a first quarter strategy to kick off January. I need a new visual plan to figure out how we're going to make the floor look full in December once we blow out all the Hello Pussy merchandise."

  "Josie, you can't be here every day." Nate's reasonable tone grates on my last nerve.

  "I can and I will."

  "When are you going to get your writing in? Don't you have a deadline?"

  "Not anymore. The book can wait. It wasn't going anywhere anyway."

  "Ouch. What happened? I thought Quill was going to give you a boost. Was it that bad?"

  "It doesn't matter. Besides, I've come to hate that story. Maybe next year I'll start something more cheerful and realistic, like a zombie apocalypse."

  "Josie—"

  "Stop it, Nate!" I reply angrily. "Mark Isaacs fucked me. He's pulling his event. I never got the contract signed, corporate's breathing down my neck, and unless you've been waiting to make your move, my job is going to be yours soon when they fire me. So are you going to help me or are you here to bury me?"

  The concern on Nate's face just infuriates me more.

  "Josie, you know I'm here for you. What the fuck? If the suits are pissed, they'll calm down. You're spiraling, so I need you to calm down, too. Isaacs is an asshole, but we've seen them before. It sucks that you're getting the backlash, but it's not like you to take this shit so personally."

  "He fucked me, Nate!"

  "I get it. But it's not the end of the world, we'll figure it out. We just need to play some politics."

  Deflated, I turn away, unwilling to see Nate's eyes when I admit the dirty truth.

  "He fucked me, Nate." My words are soft. "And then he fucked me."

  The static air is raw with my pain. Nate's chair scrapes beside mine as he drops heavily into it, rubbing a small circle comfortingly between my shoulder blades.

  "Was it at least mind-blowingly good before it all went bad?"

  The choke of my laughter spasms through my chest as I shrug to force his hand from my back before turning to face him.

  "I feel like an idiot. I thought he had genuine feelings for me. He said that it's the network's fault and that he can fix it. But he knew what he was doing, and he didn't tell me. I had to hear it from Patsy, who heard it from legal, instead of from him. Who does that? Why would you leave someone you care
about in the dark that way?"

  "Maybe he didn't realize it would have so much impact?"

  "He knew. He had to know. It's common sense, and he's a businessman. He was negotiating a contract, and he traded me for the deal he wanted. I can't tell you how much that hurts."

  "Jos…" Nate's hesitates. "I thought you were seeing the veterinarian. When did that end? Or was that just a beard?"

  "No." I try to rub the weariness from my eyes before remembering that I'm wearing full makeup. "I was seeing Heath, too."

  "Was?"

  "Am. Actually I'm not sure how this is going to play out. He knew, too. Mark asked him for advice when he knew he was going to shaft me. So now it seems both of them have been lying to me."

  Sheer exhaustion finally begins to creep through my body as the frantic anxiety of the last several hours burns itself out.

  "Anyway, it doesn't really matter. I'm done with men, and I'm done with books. I need to stay focused on what's happening here. I can't lose this job, Nate. I have a mortgage and bills to pay. The rest was just a pipedream. It was fun while it lasted, but it hardly seems worth it now."

  "Girl, you need to go home and get some sleep. You're just having a bad day. Call your guys, rip them a new one, and have some nasty hate sex. Then make up. Everything will look better tomorrow."

  "Will it, Nate?"

  "Well, from the sounds of it, it can't get worse. Let me go through your notes and see what you've been obsessing over. I'll see you on Wednesday."

  "Tomorrow. I'll be here tomorrow."

  "You're off tomorrow."

  "Not anymore. In that, I'm serious. Enough distractions. I'm taking back control of my life."

  "Jos, just for the sake of argument, is there a reason why you couldn't just get Isaacs to sign the contract now? At least you could cover yourself there."

  "I wouldn't give him the satisfaction. Besides, I already told Patsy the truth. It would just make me a liar, too."

  "Shit. You need to use some better judgment before admitting your weaknesses."

  Gathering my bag, I open my mouth to defend myself, before shrugging and heading for the door.

  I couldn't agree more.

  * * *

  Lying on the couch, I snuggle down into the blankets covering me as my teeth chatter. I can't seem to get warm tonight, even though I'm wearing sweats with the hood up, covering my head like armor, the way a turtle burrows into its shell.

  The remote has become an extension of my hand as I flip aimlessly through channels, avoiding any of the cooking shows which would be my normal fallback. I finally settle on a reality show where people endure grueling tasks of physical endurance. It gives me morbid pleasure to watch people climb a fifty foot tower and leap, only to fall when their partner fails to catch them. At least I'm not the only one.

  From across the room, my phone, which I've deliberately placed away from my immediate view, periodically vibrates with calls and messages. I have nothing to say tonight—to anyone. Besides, I'm a little too buzzed to think clearly as I reach to top off my wine glass again, stretching past the empty ice cream carton lying discarded next to the half eaten bag of potato chips, which rustles ominously.

  I'm in full wallow, completely unmotivated to do anything. I'll regret it in a few days when my skin starts to break out from all the dairy and sugar, but for now, I need an emotional crutch.

  At least Daisy is snuggled on the sofa cushion above me, her steady purr reassuring me everything is going to be ok.

  The sound of a key turning in my front door should cause alarm, but oddly, I think I was expecting it. I don't even turn my head to acknowledge the figure rounding the couch to stand in front of me, a concerned frown on his handsome face.

  Dispassionately, my eyes sweep across his dark t-shirt and tailored pants, lingering on the sexy scruff shadowing his chin. Why are the biggest assholes always the sexiest?

  "Josie, I've been calling you all day." Mark 's voice washes over me.

  "Have you? How inconvenient. Maybe if you had called me a week ago, we would have had something to discuss. Now it's just a moot point."

  "Why are you acting like this? It's like you're going out of your way to take this personally. It had nothing to do with you, it was simply business. I didn't intend for you to get caught in the crossfire, but honestly, it's not the end of the world. I'll make it up to you."

  "Not the end of the world?" I can barely hold back the flare of anger burning like a pit in my stomach. "You almost cost me my job, Mark. I am now under a microscope. My every move will be dissected. My numbers will be scrutinized. Programs and products that would automatically be slotted for my store may now go to some outlier because my judgment is now in question."

  "Don't be so dramatic, that's ridiculous!" Mark settles on the arm of the couch as Daisy watches him warily, her tail swishing as she decides whether or not she needs to go on the defense. "And even if it were true, it's just a job. If something this silly could get you fired, then you'd be better off finding something else. Maybe it's time you moved on."

  "Are you kidding me?!" Struggling upright from my blanket fort, I glare at him in full righteous anger. "It may be just a job to you, certainly it's not as impressive as being a hot shot celebrity chef," my tone is positively scathing now, "but it's my livelihood! This is how I pay my bills and support my pedestrian existence. Do you know how long it took me to earn that level of credibility and respect? That's years of my blood, sweat, and tears you're downplaying, so you better back the fuck up!"

  "That's not at all what I meant, and you know it!" Mark replies hotly. "I was not downplaying your accomplishments. I was simply pointing out that obviously they don't value it as much as you do if one small thing could derail years of success."

  "Well here's a tip, sexy, because TV will be no different. You're only ever one or two episodes away from 'network darling' to 'cancelled,' so you might as well learn to live with the fear now. While you're at it, maybe find some humility and ethics along the way."

  "Jesus, Josie, this is beyond stupid. I swear, if I ever thought it would come to this, I would have told you immediately. It never occurred to me that I wouldn't be able to make good on my commitment to you somehow. I was just trying to figure out my best options first before I freaked you out."

  "No, you were playing both sides by trying to fix something you couldn't fix. Well, congratulations! By trying to play the hero, you effectively put my neck on the chopping block. Now I have to fix something that you can't, so feel free to make your way to the door. I'm going to bed. You can leave your key on the end table. Come on, Daisy."

  Spinning on my heel, I snatch my arm from Mark's grip as he reaches out, aiming to keep me there for another round of verbal sparring.

  "You don't mean that." Lips tight, his voice is quieter now, finally listening instead of defending.

  "Sure I do. Fuck me once, shame on you. Fuck me twice, shame on me. The first fuck was free. You don't get a second. Hate sex is overrated. Don't let the door slam on your way out."

  My steps never falter as I head to the bedroom with Daisy winding protectively around my ankles before shutting the bedroom door firmly behind me.

  Throwing myself on the bed, I wait for the loud slam of my front door before giving in to the tightness in my chest and allow the tears to fall.

  * * *

  My head seems unbelievably heavy, and my body feels like it's roasting. Flipping from my stomach to my back, I squint into the morning sun peeking through my shades, disoriented and confused as to what day it is. The soft, questioning meep from the end of the bed reassures me that whatever happened, Daisy is close by. Soft fur and a wet nose suddenly press into my palm, and I automatically stroke the fluff, relaxing fractionally.

  There's an ache in my throat, and my eyes are scratchy, like someone poured sand into them. Lifting a hand to rub the irritation away, I finally realize I'm still wearing my sweats. No wonder I'm burning up. That's part of the reason I always go to bed
nude, because I naturally sleep hot. Lifting my torso, I strip the sweatshirt and tank from my soaking body, finally sighing in relief as the cool air meets my skin.

  Memory of last night's argument with Mark begins to replay in my mind, and I find my eyes welling with tears again. No. No more tears. He's not worth it, I counsel myself sternly, all the while my heart feels heavy with regret. It hurts to realize that what we had was so fragile as to be broken that easily, but I've always been that way.

  I can forgive a lot. In fact, I've forgiven more in my life than was probably good for my self-confidence. That's why I've become such a stickler for trust and truth. Relationships are only as good as the commitment to be honest with one another.

  His intent was probably good, my inner harlot whispers.

  Good intentions are the slipperiest of slopes, I remind myself, championed by the weak and the manipulative. If every mistake was prefaced with, ‘well, I had good intentions at the time,’ either you're too stupid to ever learn, or you don't care about where your actions leave others.

  It was only one mistake, she whispers again.

  I can't afford to find out how many more will follow, I remind myself. I need someone that I can rely on. I'm getting too old for games and bullshit. It's not like I ask for much. No rings, no commitments, just trust and honesty. Is that really so hard?

  Maybe that was just the wine talking Where's your trust? Did you even give him a chance to fix things?

  That's different. He broke the trust first.

  Did he?

  He did, I remind myself firmly. Now it's time to take back control. This is why we don't trust people.

  But…

  No. We're done talking about this. We don't need the drama. We were fine without it.

  The sex was great.

  We have toys.

  We have Heath.

  Maybe. Time will tell.

  Pushing off the bed, I head for the bathroom and get ready for work. Time to really get down to business.