Disillusion Meets Delight
by
Leah Battaglio
©2012 Leah Battaglio
Cover art by Marti Battaglio Pourciau
All Rights Reserved
This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual events, persons living or dead is purely coincidental. The author holds exclusive rights to this work. Any unauthorized duplication is strictly prohibited.
I would like to thank my friends for being there for me through thick and thin. I would also like to thank my family, especially my husband as he may be the most patient man in the world. Finally, I must thank my cats; past and present for being all around great cozy companions.
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Chapter Forty-Two
Chapter Forty-Three
Chapter Forty-Four
Chapter Forty-Five
Chapter Forty-Six
Chapter Forty-Seven
Chapter Forty-Eight
Chapter Forty-Nine
Chapter Fifty
Chapter Fifty-One
Chapter Fifty-Two
Chapter Fifty-Three
Chapter Fifty-Four
Chapter One
Wanted:
SWF desires fun, exciting job. Must provide salary that helps maintain lifestyle of Pottery Barn, Saks Fifth Avenue, and dinners in hip dining atmosphere. Ample supply of handsome SWM bonus. Serious applicants need only apply.
As I stare at the computer in my hopelessly boring occupation, I wonder how in the world I got here. I mean, I know how I got here. “And then there was light” yadda yadda yadda, but how did I let myself get in this position? I read Generation X [1]in college and was well aware of the “veal fattening pen”. For those of you who have not read the novel by Douglas Copeland, the “pen” is the almighty cubicle and I firmly believe it is sucking the life out of me.
My job was basically handed to me through friends of friends, but it was supposed to be a transition job. I was supposed to move up in the company because I had a degree. I was far too educated to answer customer service phones. However, nobody is interested in my vast knowledge of Jane Austen novels or Post-Structuralism. Reality hits, the job market slumps and the student loan payments begin.
I had images of what life would be like in the “real world” and let me tell you, it was pretty darn exciting. I would wear cute office attire from Ann Taylor and have happy hour drinks after work. In the mornings, I would waltz into the building with my Grande caramel macchiato courtesy of Starbucks and everyone would say, “Good morning Miss Everett” and I would reply with a confident smile because…
“Everett! Have you finished that correction paperwork yet? It was supposed to be turned in for month end yesterday!” I don’t know if everyone knows this, but day dreaming is not on most job descriptions and not usually appreciated by supervisors, especially mine. Is it possible to be born with a permanent scowl on one’s face?
“Um, I was just finishing some things and then…” I reply fumbling with my pile of mess and hoping that he doesn’t notice the complete disarray on my desk.
“Natalie, I want it in my box before 3 P.M. Oh, and Miss Everett, that’s 3 P.M. today.” He grumbles with such tone that makes Lou Grant look like Barney Fife and before his eau de stale cigar can cause eternal eye weeping, Mr. Woodhouse fades into the land of cubicles to harass another unappreciated peon. Unfortunately, his next target was my office savior, Laura Lees. Despite the serious lack of responsibility in her private life, the girl has been my most loyal co-worker. I must truly give her props because with her keen sense of smell, Laura has never missed a beat with the Woodhouse radar. I find this very useful because sometimes I just cannot get away from that solitaire game. Not my finest obsession, but it’s cheaper than Jimmy Choos.
“Laura, I really don’t know what to do. There is no way I am going to get that report done by 3 this afternoon. As it is I haven’t left my desk for lunch!” I did however find a moment to drink a whole pot of coffee, which I find really helps with anxiety.
“Sweetie, first of all, you need to breathe and put the coffee mug down. It’s the innocent one here. Second of all, you will get it done. Give me some of your files and I will do the follow ups, that way, you won’t spend your whole time on hold and you can focus on the big stuff!” She says in the therapist tone. Laura is always the chipper one. With her curly blonde hair and rosy cheeks, she lights up the room. She just turned 30 and like me, is habitually single.
“Laura I can’t ask you to do that. It’s my own fault. I put all of the difficult work under the rug and now my procrastination is biting me on the derriere.”
“Look Natalie, it’s my turn to help you. You have covered my late ass with Woodhouse on so many occasions I probably owe you my first born, which will probably never happen, so let’s stop arguing and give me those folders!” She was off and although I had some weight lifted off my shoulders, I was disappointed in myself. I was in a boring desk job that did not interest me at all and it was beginning to show. I have always displayed a strong work ethic but lately it was not in full effect whatsoever. Tonight called for definite stress alleviation.
I know what you’re thinking. The best way to relieve stress would be to hit the gym right? That would make sense given that they take it out of my bank account every single month. However, I prefer to get my exercise the old fashioned way. Shopping! Luckily my retail therapy confidante, Jenna was available on such short notice.
“You know Natalie I really think you should go to this function with me. You can network to get yourself a better job and it’s a great way to meet men. You never know, maybe you will meet your future husband there!” She says with pure delight.
My friend Jenna Masterson is obsessed with falling in love. She truly believes that her place in life is to be a wife and mother. To her credit, she is quite motherly. For instance, last summer at a neighbor’s party, when I thought it was a good idea to play quarters with a lovely red wine, she was gone in a flash. She returned with fresh clean clothes and a “gurney” named Martin to help us back to my apartment.
I have always been envious of Jenna because although she has not found the man of her dreams, she never has a problem with the preliminary process. I can go months without a guy even asking me the time, whereas Jenna has plans with some eligible bachelor at least once a week. I don’t know how she does it! She is not even in school
or a profession that has ample men. Jenna is a nanny. She is currently on hiatus from college because she is trying to save up money for a boob job. I’m sorry, breast augmentation. So far from her job as a nanny, she should be on her way to showing her cleavage in sexy halter tops by next year. Personally, I think she looks perfect with her slender 5’8” frame, bright blue eyes and blonde hair that looks like a shampoo commercial. Nevertheless, we all have little imperfections that make us feel substandard, even those who appear flawless.
“Natalie, I am serious. You have not been on a date in weeks. There is nothing shameful about attending a singles function. How else are you going to meet anyone? All the people at your work are either married or decrepit and obviously the men at bars are just out for one thing.
“Thank you for reminding me of my pathetic romantic status but I have a problem advertising it Jenna! Those people who go to those singles things are desperate, no offense.”
“None taken.”
“Besides, I am still getting over Josh and I am fragile.” Josh McCoy is my now ex-boyfriend. He was an Adonis and unfortunately, I never saw him as a result. He spent more time in the gym and less with his lovely and supportive girlfriend. We dated for nine months and despite our rocky romance, I had talked myself into thinking he was the “one.” When he broke up with me on the morning of New Year’s Eve, I was devastated. I was even more broken hearted when he moved into his new girlfriend’s apartment two months later.
“Nat, I know that it has been a difficult time for you, but you are a beautiful, educated woman with a lot going for her and it makes me sad to see you watch re-runs of the Golden Girls at night! It has been almost two years Natalie. It’s time to move on.” She said in a soft, sensitive tone that made me realize that everyone had reached this conclusion but me.
Chapter Two
Okay, so I think everyone is entitled to a self proclaimed pity party once in a while. Last Thursday night was mine. Actually, it swept itself into Friday and part of Saturday but I can confidently say that by Saturday night it was put to rest. No sign of Kleenex wads, Fiona Apple CDs or The Notebook anywhere. I decided it was time I turn over a new leaf. If my life was going to improve, it was time I became proactive. The new Natalie Everett is going to call people to plan events. She will not wait for people to come to her; she will come to them first! So, I called my girls and we made plans for a night of debauchery and bonding.
I decided to rummage in my closet and find the sauciest outfit that had buried itself behind old college sweatshirts and jeans from the Gap. As I delved and almost got myself lost, I realized that it had been so long since I had been strappy, high heels, red lipstick and triple strength mascara “out” that I did not have a single thing to wear! It seems that my desk job can suck the soul out of my body, but it replaces it with some wobbly substance that has fixated on my ass! Not a single pair of my hot, little black going out pants could work themselves around my derriere enough to remotely look sexy. This is the first night of the rest of my life and if I did not come up with something fast, I was in danger of regression. Was I going to become the old lady with too many cats and a subscription to Reader’s Digest after all?
After a few emergency phone calls and shots of Cuervo, I was back in the saddle again. Mya was the first to come over with her size 6 Jimmy Choos for me to borrow. Mya has grown quite a fondness to them. In fact she has 18 pairs, which is rather frightening considering her collection is equal to the price of a decent used car. It is kind of funny, because apart from her shoe fetish, Mya is very low maintenance. Her small 5’3 frame fits well with her cute pixie haircut, which means morning prep takes minutes. For Mya, this is essential due to her busy schedule. She is attending nursing school at the moment and would like to be a nurse practitioner eventually. I think it is safe to say that out of all of us girls, Mya is definitely the most focused. Of course, it also helps that she has absolutely no financial worries. Grandma Landry won 34 million dollars in the California State Lottery and Mya was her favorite granddaughter. As much as my grandmother loves me, the woman will take her money to the grave. Once, I borrowed $150 to pay off an outstanding debt and found myself on the late payment list. She threatened to send me to collections and charged me with a late fee. I swear my grandmother has distant relatives in Sicily.
“So, should we start out at Martino’s or try that new place on Broadway. What’s it called? Oh, crap what is it, Mya?”
“I don’t know. Do you mean Doc’s? I’ve heard that they have good music but their drinks are totally watered down. I think they have good beer though, lots of microbrews and stuff.” Mya says as she flicks through the latest Cosmopolitan.
“Maybe we should just go to Martino’s. Everything is usually the same there.”
“Did I hear Martino’s? Not tonight...” Jenna enters with a look of panic.
“Jenna, are you still avoiding that bouncer? I thought you were just going to tell him that you weren’t interested!” Mya asks, putting down the very interesting top ten ways to find out if your man is cheating.
“I know and I did but he keeps calling. I went on one date with him and he seems to think that we are destined for eternity! Somehow, he found out where I lived and left a dozen roses on my car. I don’t know what to do besides avoid him.” Jenna has never been good about rejecting others. She simply stops calling them, screens their phone calls and hopes that they will think she moved to a far away commune. However, this one seems to be on to her sly game.
“Jenna, how long has this been going on? You went on that date months ago! I think you have a stalker, girlie. I watch Dateline and I know that these situations are not to be dealt with lightly!” I advise her with a bit of frustration. Because of this dumb ass, we now have to avoid my favorite nightspot.
“Natalie, I do not have a stalker. He is simply enamored with me and does not want to accept that I don’t share his feelings. Everything is fine, just fine.” Jenna says as she downs a shot of Cuervo Gold. “We are going to have a good time girls. If that means battling my psycho bouncer at Martino’s then let the battle begin!” Again, a shot of Cuervo and we are finally out the door.
Chapter Three
The male species is quite funny. Take in point, my severely ex-boyfriend. When a couple breaks off a relationship, it is usually because the two love birds can no longer communicate without beheading one another in 2.5 seconds. So, why is it, that my ex feels the need to seek out my companionship like we are old football buddies? Josh and I did not speak for nearly a year after we broke up. This arrangement was fine with me because the last thing I desired was to talk about how splendid his replacement, trust-fund girlfriend was. I was pleased however, to hear that after seven months of alcohol induced bliss, she dumped him for some new guy who sells life insurance. I hear she is engaged! Karma, it’s a good thing. Yet, now, Josh feels the need to make amends with me like he’s involved with some 12 Step Program. It’s really annoying.
“Natalie! Wow you look great I haven’t seen you in ages!” Josh says as he takes a swig of Coors Light. The music is just loud enough so I can’t really hear him but the lighting is not dim enough so I can read his lips.
“Josh? Um, hi, I’m just here with the girls having drinks. Good to see you! Bye!” I try to make a clean exit but I’m trapped between a bachelorette party and a really big guy that needs to shower!
“Yeah, I’m here with Mark and Dylan. Wow you look hot, Nat! I’ve missed you. Natalie Carlson sent me a wedding invitation a few weeks ago and my mom got really excited because she thought it was you. She misses you too.” Did I fail to mention that he still lives at home?
“That’s nice Josh. Tell her I said hi. I really need to get back to my friends though.”
“How’s your job going?” I haven’t talked to you much since graduation.”
“It’s going fine, great actually. Listen, Jenna looks like she is almost ready to buy a round of shots for those Asian businessmen. I gotta go. I’ll see you around o
kay?” Unfortunately, my quick exit was not an excuse. While I had been strolling down memory lane, Jenna and Mya had made some new “friends” and it looked like the beer goggles were definitely screwed on tight.
“Natalie! Where have you been? Meet my new friends George Wong and Harold Li! Here, take some of their business cards too.” Jenna passes out their cards as the gentlemen nod their heads as though I may be in need of some sort of computer engineering. Where’s a decent bouncer when you need one? It appeared that Jenna’s stalker was off for the night which left me in charge.
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