by S. E. Rose
Lyla sighed. Nate had been her best friend since they were in the second grade. After her parents and little brother were killed in a car accident, she moved in with her grandparents and started school in a new place. She didn’t remember much about her parents or brother, Michael. Michael was only three. She had been in the car too but miraculously survived with no more than a bump on the head and broken arm.
Her first day of school, Nate had punched a kid for calling Lyla the one-armed poop bag, and thus their lifelong friendship was born. When Nate’s parents divorced in the sixth grade, he started spending a lot of time with her, and by the time he came out to his mom in ninth grade, he was pretty much living at Millie’s house too. Of course, that became official after his mom disowned him and his dad stopped talking to him. Even his older brother scoffed at him, but he was ten years older and already off on his own by then.
And so, Millie declared that Nate needed to use their guest room because it was so empty and getting dusty with no occupants. He gladly accepted and the three had lived together ever since. Even during college, Nate and Lyla had gone locally so that they could be home on weekends to visit with Millie.
Millie had pushed them to study abroad one semester, telling them that life was short, and they needed to see the world before they went to join the rat race.
Millie was another story altogether. She was seventy-five years old and a total badass. She had married Lyla’s grandfather, Joseph, and had kids right away, Lyla’s uncle Wesley and her dad, Quinn. Lyla’s uncle was in the military and lived abroad. She saw him on rare occasions, but otherwise, he was seldom home. Her grandfather had died of a massive heart attack two years after Lyla came to live with them. He had been a kind man and she had fond memories of him. Millie decided that her husband’s death was an opening to live a second youth, and so she had. Once Lyla was old enough to stay home on her own, she dated frequently. She joined a women’s karate class, where she got a black belt. She did yoga four times a week. She was now retired from teaching math at the local high school, but that didn’t stop her from tutoring students. She was always learning something new. Right now, she was taking violin lessons. Last year, she had taken pottery classes and two years before that she had taken up beekeeping for a summer until all her bees went away and never came back.
“So, tell me, how bad is it?” Gran Mill asked as she sipped her coffee and ate a crumb cake.
“Gran Mill, it is sooooo bad,” Lyla moaned as she let her head thump on to the table.
Millie patted her leg. “Well, dear, I guess you ought to go face the music,” she stated.
Lyla nodded her head against the table. She stood up and grabbed her coffee so she could go upstairs and change. She felt like she was prepping for death row. She put on her least favorite work outfit, so she wouldn’t tarnish her favorite clothes with a bad memory. She grabbed her purse and headed to the metro.
The office was quiet as she entered. It was still early; most people didn’t trickle in until nine or ten if they came in at all. The D.C. office was a big telework office.
Eventually, people began to mill around the office and it wasn’t long before Lyla’s email flashed with a message for her to call her boss’s boss. She slowly walked down the hallway to her death, well her job death. Erin Fletcher sat at her giant desk, glaring at her computer screen as Lyla knocked on the door.
“Come in,” she said, not bothering to look up at Lyla.
Lyla entered and stood until Erin motioned to a chair.
“I guess you heard about LA,” Lyla offered.
Erin’s eyes trailed over to her. “Yes.”
“I really screwed up,” Lyla said. “I’d make an excuse, but honestly I have none. It was just a bad day, and I made a mess of it.”
“I see,” Erin said. “Well, you managed to piss Matthew off, something fierce.”
Lyla hung her head waiting for the inevitable.
Erin cocked her head to one side and looked at her. “I’m going to give you one more chance to redeem yourself.”
Lyla’s head popped up and she gaped as Erin continued. “I see something in you, Lyla. That’s why I hired you. We all have bad days, but in this business, one bad day can end a career, so please see that it doesn’t happen again. I wouldn’t want to be forced to fire you.”
“Really?” Lyla squeaked.
“Yes. I have another photographer that I use locally, Kevin Gabel. He specializes in sports and advertising, and he helps me with some other jobs. He’s a freelancer, but he’s damned good. He usually does a lot of commercial work. There’s a big gala the magazine is hosting that is highlighting some charity work done by local celebrities, and we’re also going to cover it—lots of fundraising, feel-good shit, if you know what I mean.”
Lyla nodded.
“Anyhow, Kevin comes in from New York, so he needs someone on the ground to set up everything for him. I’ll forward you his email, and you two can discuss details.”
“Great, thank you, Erin. I mean it, thank you,” Lyla said as she stood.
“Just don’t disappoint me,” Erin sighed as she went back to reading something on her computer screen.
“I promise, I won’t,” Lyla said, and she hurried back to her desk. Sure enough, there was an email copying her and Kevin from Erin. It explained the article that was being written and what types of photos they needed. They’d also have to attend the gala and take candid shots there as well. Apparently, it would be a “who’s who of D.C.” with celebrities, athletes, and politicians. Lyla rolled her eyes. She hated sports and never, ever followed them. She only had one good sports memory. Her grandfather had taken her to a baseball game right before he died. So, she did hold a soft spot for that game, but otherwise, she found games a waste of her time. It helped that neither Nate nor Millie had any sports interest. Occasionally, they’d watch a big game like the Super Bowl, but mostly for the commercials, and so Millie could talk about how various players had cute butts.
Chapter 2
Lyla no sooner got back to her desk as an email from Kevin popped up on her screen. It was followed by a phone call about thirty seconds later.
“Hi, Lyla?” Kevin asked as she answered.
“Yes, hi, Kevin. I’m really excited to be helping you,” she gushed.
“Great. I hope you can do a better job than the last assistant Erin gave me. He double-booked our venue for the photo shoot with a dance troop competition. Needless to say, wild animals and celebrities don’t mix with a bunch of wannabe famous teenagers who speak at a decibel level ten times that of a normal human.”
Lyla giggled. “I can understand that would be a problem. I promise, to try my best. What do I need to do?”
Kevin began to rattle off a long list of things that needed to be done. Apparently, the magazine was going to just do a print story about the celebrities being honored at the gala for the next issue, but a few days ago, they decided to do a web edition as well, which meant that all the shoots had to be done before the gala. There were about a half-dozen celebrities that they needed to do a photo shoot with prior to the event. Then they would need to be at the event and take candid shots. Kevin needed her to set up all the details. There were three sports celebrities from local teams, one movie star that lived in D.C., a famous senator, and a comedian that was a favorite at the improv club.
“OK, I think I got everything. So, we have five different shoots for six different celebrities this week followed by the gala. We’re doing promos for the website only and then there’ll be a full article next month in the magazine including photos from the gala,” she reiterated.
“You got it. Book the locations first, then follow up with all the rest,” he said. “I’ll be in tomorrow by ten a.m.”
“Great, see you then,” she said, and they disconnected.
She sat and stared at the phone for half a second before texting Nate.
Lyla: I am not fired! Praise the job gods!
Nate: Did you have to sleep with
the boss?
Lyla: Fuck you. NO!
Nate: (winking smiley face)
Lyla: I hate you.
Nate: No, you don’t. You love me.
Lyla: sigh
Nate: This calls for drinks! Meet me after work?
Lyla: Fine. (angry face)
Nate: (kissy face)
Lyla: (middle finger)
Nate: XOXO
Lyla placed her phone down. She needed to focus. She spent the rest of the day locking in the venues that Kevin had requested. It was easy considering he wanted to capture each subject in their “domain” as he put it. All their places of work were only too happy to have a photo shoot there, considering the publicity they would get. Once she finished locking in the other needed items for the shoot, she put together emails to send to each agent or office manager for the celebrities. Their names all sounded vaguely familiar, but she was horrible with names, so she wasn’t really sure who they were.
She emailed Kevin when she finished but he had an out-of-office email up, which meant she probably wouldn’t hear from him until the next day. She knew that she would be meeting Kevin at the local baseball stadium. She double-checked all the details, not wanting anything to go wrong the next day. When she was pleased with all the arrangements, she logged off and headed out to meet Nate.
Nate already had pomegranate martinis sitting on the small table by the bar at their favorite after-work place. It was close enough to home that they could walk if they had to, but it was also posh enough that Nate felt it was “acceptable.”
“Cheers to not getting fired,” Nate said as they clinked glasses.
“Yeah, I’ll cheers to that,” Lyla huffed.
“So, the new boss?” Nate prompted.
“Is cool, so far,” she replied.
“And he’s an A, a F, or like a solid B- or what?” Nate asked.
Lyla shrugged. “Don’t know, not that it makes a difference,” she added.
Nate laughed. “Don’t be daft, of course, it does.”
Lyla gave him a sharp look. Nate was a total manwhore and looks were of the utmost importance. However, she knew deep down that Nate didn’t give a shit about looks, he just claimed to for appearances’ sake. He, after all, had a reputation to uphold.
“When do you meet him?”
She gave him the lowdown of the latest job, and he listened attentively and asked questions. It was their typical conversation. Nate, unlike the two boyfriends she had had in the past, actually cared about what she was up to and was genuinely interested.
“Oh, that reminds me. I stopped and got you an ‘I didn’t get fired’ gift,” Nate said with a smile that was really more of a devilish grin than an “I’m such a good friend” smile.
Lyla paused as she reached out for a bag that Nate held. She raised an eyebrow, and he laughed and shrugged. Great, she thought as she looked around, but the table was in the corner and no one seemed to be paying much attention to them.
She set the bag down and opened it up to find a small box. She set the box down and slowly opened the lid as one might do if they thought the box contained snakes. She spied the two jade-colored balls immediately and then stared at Nate. At first, she thought they were those Chinese balls that you play with in your hand to relax or build hand strength, and she laughed at that notion. But on further examination, she wasn’t so sure.
“Uh, thanks,” she murmured as she touched one of the balls. It was not hard like stone, it was clearly made of the same material as her...wait, what? Her eyes popped up to meet Nate who was trying hard to suppress a full-belly laugh.
“Give up?” he asked.
She nodded her defeat.
“Kegel balls,” he announced with a nod.
“What balls?” she asked as she examined them again and found they were two different sizes and each attached to a band of some type.
“Kegel balls, you know?” he urged.
“Nope, no clue,” she said. Kegel, Kegel...her mind tried to wrap around the word that was mildly familiar, but she didn’t know why.
“They are for...you know,” he stated.
“Nope, you lost me,” she said.
“I thought maybe you should clean out the cobwebs and get her in shape, in case the new boss is hot,” he explained.
“Wait a minute. I’m supposed to put these in my vag,” she whispered in shock as she realized their purpose.
“Uh yeah, sweetie pie. That’s what they are for, to help you work out your muscles, you know, down there. Oh, and they vibrate,” he added and pointed to her crotch.
“Uh, ew, Nate,” she said, slapping him on the arm and then looking around quickly to make sure no one had seen the offending Kegel balls. Her face grew pink with embarrassment, and then as if things couldn’t possibly get more insane in her life, her eyes locked on a very familiar set of eyes three tables away. It took her about two seconds to place the eyes, and then total mortification set in as the man stood, reached for something in a bag on the floor by his chair, and walked to her table.
“Hey there, Lyla,” he said as he set the book Lyla had left on the plane down on her table.
“Hi,” she said, gaping at the book and trying desperately to remember the hot man’s name. “My book...” She trailed off as she looked back up at him.
“You left it behind this morning,” he explained. “I wasn’t sure how to return it to you, but I had slipped it in my bag and, well, small world I guess,” he added with a shrug.
It was in this moment, as his eyes fell to the box in front of her that she realized the box lid was still open and the offending Kegel balls were on display. His eyes widened a fraction. Lyla was pretty sure the earth might open up in this moment and swallow her. That would be the kind thing. Instead, she tried to shut the box lid, only she knocked the box over and the Kegel balls went rolling off the table, each in a different direction.
It all seemed to happen in slow motion. She watched in absolute horror, as one ball rolled across the floor toward the table where her hot airplane neighbor had just come from, and the other rolled against the purse of an elderly woman who was sitting two tables over with what Lyla assumed was her husband.
“Oh my God,” she whispered, her throat constricting from the utter humiliation. She glared over at Nate who looked ready to bust a nut from containing his laughter.
“Oh, let me get that for you,” he said, and he started to lean down as Lyla quickly jumped off her chair. They both reached for the ball that had rolled toward his table. His size allowed him to take only a few steps to get it, while she was forced to scramble toward it. She reached it first, grabbed it, and then started to come up from under the table. She rammed right into his head.
“Fuck!” he cursed as Lyla’s forehead made direct contact with his nose. Blood began to pour out of his nose and all over his shirt.
“Oh my...” Lyla didn’t finish her sentence, but instead grabbed a cloth napkin and held it to his nose. It was only then that she noticed the other gentleman at the table. He looked mildly familiar like she had seen him before, but she just couldn’t place him.
She felt a tap on her shoulder and turned to see the little old lady holding the other Kegel ball by the small rubbery strap attached to it.
“I think you dropped this, my dear,” she said in a voice that indicated she clearly had smoked a pack a day since Prohibition ended. Lyla’s face went from pink to molten red. She literally was waiting to wake up from the nightmare. Yes, this had to be a nightmare, that was it, she thought to herself. She would pinch herself and wake up.
“Uh, thanks,” she said and pinched her arm, but she didn’t wake up. She opened her hand to take the Kegel ball and forgot she already had the other one in that hand as her other hand was holding a napkin to Mr. Hottie’s nose. The first Kegel ball fell back on the floor. His foot immediately moved and stopped it from rolling.
“Oh dear. Here, let me,” said the old woman as she bent down to pick it up.
“Oh n
o, really that’s not...,” Lyla started, but it was too late. The old lady picked it up as he lifted his foot. She placed it in her hand next to the other one.
“Thank you,” she breathed as she tried to clench her hands over the balls.
“Sure, sweetie, no problem,” the woman said. She was about to turn her mortification back to Mr. Hottie since clearly the old lady was clueless and now she just had to face the embarrassment of the two gentlemen in front of her, when the woman turned around once more. “Oh, and enjoy those, dear. Your Kegel muscles will be whipped into shape in no time. Trust me, they really do wonders.” She smiled sweetly, patted Lyla on the arm, and walked back over to her table where she leaned over and loudly explained to her husband.
Now at least three other tables of people were staring at Lyla and gaping, some tried to stifle laughter. Lyla wanted to die. Please, God! If you are a merciful God, then kill me now, please, she thought to herself as she slowly turned her head back to Mr. Hottie, whose hand had come up to cover her hand that was over his nose.
He now had a look of total amusement on his face, despite the fact that he was probably in pain. She slowly removed her hand from his nose, allowing him to control the pressure from the napkin. Her eyes skidded back down to her other hand, and she just shook her head.
“I’m going to kill Nate,” she muttered.
“Is Nate your boyfriend?” he asked.
“Or is he your personal shopper? Because I’m looking for a good one, and I like his style,” the other guy said.
Lyla’s eyes shot over to the man sitting at the table.
“Lyla, Kent. Kent, Lyla,” he said in a voice that was muted with the napkin in front of his face.
Kent shot out a hand, and Lyla had to switch the balls to her other hand to shake his. She must have touched something because the balls began to vibrate as she did this. Both men shot a look at her hand and then her face before Kent lost it.
