by M. Ullrich
“Who would you pick?” Clarissa said to Matthew. “Maxine, myself, or Prudence over here?” Genevieve turned slowly.
Matthew held back a laugh, and Clarissa smiled proudly. Genevieve wanted to be witty and quick with a scalding response, but confrontation never came naturally to her, so the best she could muster up was a simple, “Ha ha, Clarissa. Good one.”
Genevieve turned away, but something about Clarissa’s snickering got beneath her skin. She looked back over her shoulder while walking away. “And by the way, I’m not a pillow princess!” She almost ran into Harper standing there, and she spilled her coffee all over her own front.
Genevieve’s face reddened. Before Harper could say anything, Genevieve ran for the bathroom. She grabbed as many paper towels as she could hold and soaked them with water. Less than a minute into her sink bath, Harper entered the bathroom. Genevieve looked up from her damaged clothes to find Harper looking on in concern.
“I assure you,” Genevieve said over the running faucet, “I’m always this clumsy.” Genevieve continued to scrub her shirt as she spoke. “I’ve learned to buy at least two of all my favorite pieces of clothing because I’ll ruin one.” When Harper didn’t respond, Genevieve looked up. She leaned against the counter with her arms folded across her chest, and her smile matched the softness in her eyes. Genevieve saw the question in them before Harper even spoke it. “I’m fine.”
“Is Clarissa giving you a hard time?” When Genevieve didn’t answer, Harper shook her head. “I should’ve known. She’s usually at the heart of any office drama.” Harper grabbed a few more paper towels and handed them to Genevieve. “I can’t apologize enough.”
“You have nothing to apologize for. Every workplace has a bully.”
“I don’t want my workplace to have one, and deep down, I don’t think Clarissa wants to be one,” Harper said with a sigh. “I can’t fire her because she never really crosses the line into rightful termination, and she won’t work from home.”
“Working from home sounds nice,” Genevieve mused aloud as she worked on a particularly large coffee spot on her thigh.
“That’s not an option for you.” Harper’s voice was stern, but her smile was playful. “We’d miss having you around the office.”
“Oh, would we?” Genevieve found herself flirting, and Harper’s widening smile encouraged her to continue. “I find that hard to believe.”
Harper winked. “Believe it, Genevieve. Run home for a change of clothes. I’ll cover for you with the boss.”
Genevieve watched in amusement as Harper snuck out of the bathroom like she was keeping a secret. She giggled and looked back at her reflection. She was blushing profusely. Genevieve touched her warm cheeks before fanning her face. The source of the flush could be either embarrassment or… Genevieve looked back to the closed door and replayed Harper’s wink one more time. Her stomach fluttered instantly.
“Embarrassment it is.” Genevieve cleared her throat and looked around the empty restroom. She cleaned up the pile of paper towels and threw them out before heading home to change like Harper suggested.
As Genevieve entered her apartment, she dialed Chloe. “Hey!” she said the moment the ringing stopped.
“Well hello, Gen. I was beginning to think you had forgotten about me.” Chloe’s warm voice soothed Genevieve’s still-addled nerves.
“Nonsense and impossible. You know that,” Genevieve said, starting to take off her soiled clothing. “How have you been?”
“Bored without you, but managing. More importantly, how are you doing? Judging by my lack of mail, you still haven’t subscribed me to your magazine.” Chloe had been texting Genevieve regularly, begging for copies of her work, online links, and subscriptions, which Genevieve had ignored as she tried to work out an explanation to give.
“I’ll send you a few back issues this week, and I’ll have you subscribed by Friday.” Genevieve pulled on a pair of clean jeans. After that morning’s incident, she was heading back to the office much more casual.
Chloe sighed dramatically into the phone. “I don’t believe you.”
“Believe it, because I’m finally ready to tell you about my job. And you haven’t tried to search me online, right? You promised.”
“I’ve upheld my promise and so has Jeremy, surprisingly.”
“He didn’t search anything because he really doesn’t care.” Genevieve shrugged on a sweater and felt a little sad at the truth of the statement. Jeremy didn’t care. He made it clear by their nightly phone calls that all he cared about was not having her around.
“He still hasn’t shown much support, has he?”
“No, and he doesn’t even try to ask me about it.” Genevieve checked her hair and light makeup in a small mirror. “Last night we were on the phone for fifteen minutes before he asked me to have phone sex, followed by him asking when I was coming home next. He didn’t like either answer, so he ended our conversation because he was tired.”
“You know how he is. If it’s not about Jeremy, then Jeremy doesn’t care.”
Genevieve shook her head solemnly. “It’d be nice if he acted like he cared for a change.”
“He’s been this way since high school. I’m surprised it took you this long to get tired of it.”
“Maybe it’s just because I actually have something exciting happening for me—”
“Then tell me all about it! I’ve been dying over here!” Genevieve smiled at her friend’s support. Chloe had always been right beside Genevieve throughout their lives, even when it came to the craziest of her plans.
Genevieve took a deep breath. “Well, it all started with a job listing that I read a little too quickly before hitting the ‘apply now’ button.” Chloe already started to laugh.
Genevieve recounted everything from how she got the job to why she was home in the middle of the afternoon changing her clothes. She wrapped up the tale just as she arrived back at the office. She stood outside the building and waited for Chloe to give her some sort of advice.
“Oh my God, Gen.” Chloe was breathless with laughter by the time Genevieve finished. “This is, by far, the most ridiculous thing you’ve ever done!” Chloe’s cackle hurt Genevieve’s ear, and she pulled the phone away.
“Like I didn’t know that already,” Genevieve nearly growled. “I’m telling you this so you can help me.”
“Help you? Sweetie, no one can help you now.”
“Thank you, Chloe, I knew I could count on you,” Genevieve said, checking her watch. “I have to get back to work,”
“Okay, listen, call me later, and we’ll figure this out—”
Genevieve chortled and stopped Chloe. “Easier said than done.”
“Being a lady-lover will come naturally to you, trust me. I love you and we’ll talk later. Good-bye, Gen.” Chloe hung up a second later, leaving Genevieve to wonder exactly why her best friend had so much confidence in her.
Step Seven
Use Your Imagination
Genevieve loved autumn. The changing of leaves and some of the best holidays took place then. She relished the gorgeous New Jersey sunsets, regardless of how early they started. She really enjoyed the evening, when the office was near empty and she could just enjoy the view. The pinks and oranges stretched out across the sky over the city. Genevieve sat at her desk with a head full of ideas and thoughts of the previous weekend she had spent back in Pennsylvania.
She had gone to surprise her mother, Sandra, and placate Jeremy’s constant nagging that she never made time to see him. Genevieve tried to point out he didn’t make an effort to see her either, but he was deaf to the point. She had put together a game night like they used to have every week, with Genevieve, Jeremy, Sandra, Chloe, and whomever Chloe was dating at the time. Chloe had arrived solo that night, much to Genevieve’s delight. She needed the ease and familiarity of home and quality time with her best friend. What should’ve been a relaxing night turned out to be anything but.
“My vote is for Sc
attergories,” Genevieve said as she twisted the top off her beer.
Jeremy took the beer from her hand and kissed her head. “You always suggest Scattergories.”
“That was my b—”
“I think we should play poker.” Jeremy took a long pull from her beer. Genevieve narrowed her eyes. If a look could shatter glass…
“Typical guy,” Chloe said as she handed Genevieve a beer with an apologetic look. “I agree with Gen, Scattergories sounds fun.”
“Mom, you decide.” Genevieve turned to her mother, who stood in the doorway of the kitchen as the rest of them settled at the round table in the middle of the room. Sandra was short and stocky with a head full of coppery curls, a trait Genevieve always wished she had inherited. She was a teenager before she came to terms with her natural strawberry hue. She pulled at her long, straight ponytail and waited for her mother’s decision.
Sandra made a show of scratching her chin before agreeing with her daughter. “Scattergories it is. I’ll go get it.”
Jeremy grumbled and Genevieve pumped her fist in the air.
“You’re staying over my place tonight, right?” Jeremy said while scrolling through his phone and drinking his beer.
Genevieve tugged a little harder at the end of her hair. “I planned on staying here, actually. It’ll make my mom happy.” Jeremy made a show out of putting his phone down, and Genevieve knew he was going to give her a hard time. “It’s the last farmer’s market tomorrow, and she wanted to head out early.”
“I haven’t seen you in over a month, Gen. Doesn’t that matter to you?”
“Of course it matters.” Genevieve looked over to Chloe in a silent apology for the uncomfortable scene. “But I have to make time for everyone.”
“Just not me.”
“You could come see me, you know.” Genevieve ignored Chloe’s small chuckle beside her. Sure, having Jeremy come to Asbury wouldn’t be ideal considering her sort of double life, but she was arguing out of principle at this point.
“You know that’s hard for me with my schedule.”
“And you think it’s easy with mine?”
Jeremy laughed then and Genevieve wondered how mad her mother would be if she threw her beer at him. “You can write from anywhere. Last time I checked, laptops and notebooks are portable.” He was handsome, but when he smiled cockily Genevieve was appalled by him.
Before she could respond, her mother walked back in and triumphantly placed the game in the center of the table. “It wasn’t easy, but I found it.” Sandra looked around the quiet table. “Did you decide on teams while I was gone?”
“Yeah, Gen, did you pick your team?” Chloe smirked around the mouth of her bottle.
Genevieve shook her head at Chloe’s lack of subtlety. “Ready to destroy them?”
*
“What are you still doing here?” Genevieve nearly jumped out of her chair at the sudden voice. She spun around to see Harper standing with her hands up in the air. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay.” Genevieve brushed the hair back from her face and felt her heart racing in her chest. “I guess I just got lost in my daydreams.”
Harper smiled that pleasantly soft smile Genevieve had come to know as the prelude to some outrageously sweet and caring comment. “I hope they were good daydreams.”
“Hardly.” Genevieve grumbled quietly before noticing Harper’s jacket and briefcase. She looked at her watch and realized it was after eight o’clock. “Holy sh—moly.” She grimaced at Harper. “I didn’t realize it was so late.”
“Did you eat?”
Genevieve was sheepish to admit how extensive her lapse in time was. “Not since lunchtime.”
“Have dinner with me,” Harper said. “Unless you have other plans.” She didn’t ask, and Genevieve was both startled and relieved by that. But then she wondered why Harper would want to have dinner with her.
“You want me to have dinner with you?” Genevieve’s mind raced. Her undeniably attractive boss had just asked her to dinner. She wasn’t prepared for the possibility of being asked out, and now that was happening. Why did it have to be the one person she absolutely could not be asked out by? Harper was the wrong person for so many reasons.
“Yes. I’m reviewing a new restaurant that just opened in the neighborhood and would love a second opinion.”
“A work date?” Genevieve said, still a little confused by the whole proposal. Harper nodded. “I still don’t know my way around that well, but I’ll follow you?”
“Let’s go.”
*
“This place is beautiful!” Genevieve said after she settled into a large wooden booth across from Harper.
“It is.” Harper looked around. “It’s also brand new, so they want to make a great first impression.”
“Well, they have done that with me.” Genevieve placed her linen napkin on her lap as their host took their drink order. To Genevieve’s dismay, she was prompted to order first. This triggered an inner war. She was with her classy, mature boss in a swanky new restaurant that surely did not serve Budweiser. “I’ll have a glass of red wine?”
The host stared blankly for a moment before asking, “What kind?”
Genevieve looked to Harper for help, but she was reading the drink menu. “It’s been a long day, I’ll take anything.” Genevieve tried to play off the joke with a small laugh.
“Of course.” The young man turned to Harper, “And for you?”
Harper smiled politely. “I’ll have any lager you have on tap.” Genevieve closed her eyes and fought against the urge to smack her own forehead. “Notice how we’re the only ones here?” Harper said. “It’s risky to open a new place in the off-season.”
“You’d think they’d close earlier.”
“That would make sense, but my guess is that they want to try to get as much business as possible.” Harper shrugged. “So, what’s your first impression?”
She was just about to speak when their waiter set their drinks down in front of them.
“My name is Eric, and I’ll be your server this evening. Are you ready to order?”
“We’ll take one each of your appetizers and specials, please.” Harper handed their unopened menus back to Eric, who looked a bit dumbfounded.
“One of each?”
“Yes, thank you.” When Eric walked away from the table, Harper looked at Genevieve and said, “That never gets old.”
Genevieve laughed loudly. She was charmed by Harper’s humor and playfulness. “I hope they offer doggie bags.”
“It’s hard to write a review if you only try one thing.” Harper sipped her beer, giving the taste a moment of thought before sipping one more time. “The beer is good, how’s the wine?”
Genevieve looked to the bulbous glass she had been ignoring. She smiled stiffly before lifting it to her nose. She read in one of her mother’s magazines that you’re supposed to sniff your wine first, for whatever reason. The smell did little to entice her. Genevieve held up her glass to Harper before going in for her first taste. She cringed. She actually cringed at the tart taste. The best she could do was hold back a shiver. To Genevieve’s surprise, Harper laughed.
“Should I tell people to stay away from the reds?”
“I don’t like wine,” Genevieve said, covering her face with her hands. “I want to because wine culture is so sophisticated and mature!” By the time she lowered her hands, Harper had switched their drinks.
“Sometimes you have to grow to appreciate wine.” Harper sipped the wine and seemed satisfied enough. “Do you like beer?”
A thrilling shiver traveled to the base of Genevieve’s spine when she looked at the rim of the frosty pint glass and noticed a droplet of beer clinging to the spot Harper had drunk from. At first she sipped politely, but then she gulped the lager to erase not just the aftertaste of the wine, but the thought of Harper’s mouth. “Very much,” She licked the remnants of foam from her upper lip.
“Good, then leave the wine
to us older folks.”
“You talk like you’re my mom’s age.” Genevieve rolled her eyes playfully.
“I’m nearly a decade older than you. That’s a whole lifetime.”
“Hardly!” Genevieve sat back. The beer was settling into her muscles and bones nicely. She looked across at Harper, who had her hands folded on the tabletop and was tapping her fingers together. “You want my initial thoughts on this place?”
Harper’s eyes lit up. “Absolutely.”
“It’d be a wonderful spot for a first date.” Genevieve started to twirl a strand of her hair around her finger. “With the lighting and the privacy provided by the high-backed booths, the ambience is very romantic.”
Genevieve could see it all: Harper doting on a beautiful woman, giving her date undivided attention as she spoke. They’d feed each other various delicacies and maybe even share a kiss in the candlelight. Genevieve blushed and looked at Harper’s hands again. She imagined the soft skin of her palm as she held her date’s hand on the tabletop. The Harper in Genevieve’s mind was so attentive, she’d have her date wrapped around her finger by the end of the night.
“What’s that smile about?”
Harper’s question pulled Genevieve back to the moment. Maybe the beer or the comfortable, dim lighting was to blame, but Genevieve was relaxed enough to answer honestly. “I was just imagining you on a date, wooing a beautiful woman until she was putty in your hands.”
Harper laughed heartily. “Are you sure you’re not a fiction writer? Because you have a very active imagination.”
“I may have heard you’re quite the ladies’…well, lady. Especially with new hires.”
“That was a long time ago.”
“When was the last time you were on a date?” Genevieve said. “A real date.”
“It’s been a while,” Harper said, and her avoidance intrigued Genevieve. “What about you?” She took a long drink of her wine. “Since Pennsylvania, I mean.”
