The BACHELORETTE Project (The Project: LESLEE Series)

by Tami Anthony

  David just smiles at me. "Yeah ..." he replies. He just said “yeah ...” like I'm an idiot or something, or maybe I’m just paranoid. I’ve never had a boss as good looking as him. I don’t think I’ve ever met an attorney that looks as good as he does. This is awkward. I’m entirely sure that I’m attracted to this man that I could be working for in the future and I don’t know how comfortable I would be with that.

  We both just sit and look at each other. He's still smiling and I can't tell what type of face I have. I'm numb to everything these days. It's like my feelings have been sucked up by a vacuum or something along with my brain being sucked up. I begin to fiddle around in my purse for another copy of my resume. "I guess I'll tell you a little bit about myself,” I start. “I'm a certified paralegal and have been for about seven years. I received my bachelor's degree in pre law from Temple University then I moved to New York City and began working for the law firm of Thomas and Thomas. They handled mostly criminal law, but I can handle just about any type of law ... not saying that they can't handle any type of law, I'm sure that they can." I finally find my resume and hand it to him. “My resume,” I say nervously.

  David sighs. “Leslee, right?” he asks and I nod my head. “And you worked for Thomas and Thomas?” He begins to skim my resume with his finger and pauses. “You mean the Robert Thomas and Edward Thomas firm of New York City.”

  “Well, Thomas is a common last name, but yes,” I answer. “Robert and Edward were my bosses.”

  David laughs. “It’s a small world,” he tells me. “A small world.” David begins to shake his head. “The Thomas brothers are good family friends of mine.”

  “Oh, really?” I reply. Well, there goes any chance of me getting this job, I think to myself. Robert Thomas, please go screw yourself.

  “Edward and I, you know, the younger Thomas, we went to undergrad together.”

  “Oh, that means that you went to—”

  “Yale,” he tells me. “I graduated from Yale. We were on the crew team together and we pledged a fraternity together.”

  I force a laugh. “Oh, that’s nice,” I say. “Family friends.”

  “So, why did you leave their law firm?” he asks me. I gulp.

  “I, um …” Should I tell him the truth or should I just act like I wanted some sort of life change? You know, as bad as this year has been, it really couldn’t get any worse. If I tell this man the truth, the most he can say is that he won’t hire me. This is the downfall of being an honest person. Fuck it. Who cares? Things could not get any worse than they are now. “To make a long story short,” I start, “I was in the running for a senior paralegal position at the firm. The day of my interview, I caught Robert Thomas getting a blowjob from a co-worker then he fired me and practically blackmailed me if I said anything. That pretty much sums it up.” The look on David’s face says it all. He’s stunned, floored, surprised … then out nowhere, he just begins to laugh. “I didn’t think it was that funny,” I mutter underneath my breath.

  “Robbie’s still up to the same shit, I see,” David says.

  “If you mean unrightfully firing people and putting them out on the streets, then I would say yes. Robbie is still up to the same shit.”

  “You know, his brother and I warned him that this would catch up to him.” David continues to shake his head in shame. “His wife is divorcing him,” he tells me. “And she plans on taking more than half of his money. He’s been living on booze in a one bedroom apartment in North Jersey. His wife kicked him out of their house.” He continues to laugh.

  “Well, it’s nice that he’s received his overdue karma, but it didn’t help me any,” I say. “I lost my job because of his affair with a skankwhore.”

  David looks over at my purse. “What other papers do you have in there?” he asks and I begin to pull them out.

  “It’s just samples of my work,” I tell him. “Document preparations, summaries, things like that.” I hand him the papers and he looks them over quickly. He then looks at the clock and grabs a file off of his desk.

  “Oh, shit. I have to be at court in an hour,” he tells me as he rises from his desk. “I really hate this interview process,” David admits to me, “and you seem like a really smart girl.”

  “Well, I only learn from the best,” I say, smiling. “I’m retired Judge Robinson’s daughter.”

  “Judge Robinson of Philadelphia? You mean the Judge Robinson?” he asks in awe.

  “That’s my father,” I say. The smile that surfaced in the beginning of our interview on David’s face has once again resurfaced.

  “When can you start?” he asks.

  “Five minutes ago if you would’ve let me,” I say.

  “That’s the perfect answer,” he tells me looking at his watch. “I have to go now,” David says before jetting out of his office to the secretary’s desk. I follow behind him. “Marie,” he tells her, “give Leslee whatever tax forms and payroll information she needs to fill out. Oh, and Leslee?”

  “Yes?”

  “Congratulations. You’re my new paralegal. Welcome to our legal team,” he tells me and walks swiftly out the front door.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Life is short. You never know what great opportunities may arise in your life. Never take life for granted, and certainly have no regrets. These are the things that we're told as we're growing up and these are the rules that we follow day by day. Live today as if it was your last day on Earth, and always relish in the moment ...

  It’s been only three months and my life has changed drastically for the better. Aside from the drama I experienced earlier in the year, you know, the whole being dumped and homeless thing, the random hospital visit, and the very brief jail stint, I truly believe that I’ve become a better person from all of it. Mistakes were made, lessons were learned, and I’ve made positive changes in my life because of it. This year has taught me so much about life and how to survive the unthinkable. What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, right?

  As far as my career goes, I’m still working for Attorney Kirkpatrick as a paralegal which obviously is a no-brainer. I’ve been able to double his caseload by using my connections and my very clever advertising techniques. I can definitely say that he is a happy man … and I am a very happy paralegal. Granted, my salary isn’t as much as I was making in New York, but it was enough for me to move into my own fabulous little place in Rittenhouse Square and purchase a brand new car. Life is definitely getting better.

  I haven't been on a date for months. I've occupied my time with work and exercise, hardly any play time, but you know what? I'm happy being by myself because for once in my life, I'm beginning to feel complete. I’m independent, successful, and oh-so happy. If only every woman in the world can say that.

  Ring, ring! As I lay comfortably in the cloud of pillows on my bed, I hear my cell phone ring. Ugh! Don’t people know that on Saturdays you’re supposed to sleep in? I grunt as I answer the phone. “Hello?” I say. This better be important. I was dreaming that I was sipping on a pina colada while sunbathing on a beautiful tropical island with various hot men admiring my very presence. Maybe this is my subconscious way of telling myself that I need a vacation soon.

  “It’s meeeeee!” Karen shrieks on the other end of the phone. “Wake up, my favorite BFF!”

  “I’m up,” I tell her as I roll over onto my back. I let out a very loud yawn. “What’s going on?”

  “I found a DJ for the wedding!”

  “That’s great to hear. Congrats!” I say. Another good thing about living by myself: I don’t have to deal with Karen’s wedding nonsense. Don’t get me wrong. I do love her to death because she’s my best friend and all, but she turns crazy when it comes to the wedding stuff; almost unbearable to handle.

  “Yup,” she says. “I also made an appointment for you next week to have your official bridesmaid dress altered. Can you believe that I’m getting married in a month and a half?!”

  “Yeah, it happened fast,” I
tell her. “This year, I mean. Time flies …” I drift off in the conversation.

  “So, the girls and I are getting together tonight,” Karen says. “The women of the bridal party minus my mother. We’re meeting at Davio’s on 17th Street. You want to join us? I figured that you should all meet each other beforehand and get to know each other—”

  “It sounds great,” I reply salivating at the sound of Davio’s. It’s Italian food, it’s steak, it’s crazy delicious. I can break my health regimen for just one night. Plus, a night out with the girls sounds fabulous, even though these are girls I don’t know personally. If it turns into a disaster, I can just eat and leave. It’s a win-win situation I think.

  “Oh, good,” Karen tells me. “I made a reservation for eight o’clock.”

  “Sounds good.”

  “So what’s on your agenda for the rest of the day?” Karen asks me. I never even thought of that. Lately, I’ve become this film and theater person, going to shows by myself and enjoying the culture of the arts, but today I didn’t have anything planned. Maybe …

  “I’m going to go shopping,” I tell her confidently. It’s been a while since I’ve been to King of Prussia Mall. A girl can never have enough clothes or shoes. Plus, I can buy myself a new dress for tonight. I deserve it. All this yoga I’ve been doing has shaped my legs into the stems of a goddess. I can show them off for a night. I smile at the thought of it all. God, I love to shop!

  “Oh, that’s great!” Karen exclaims. “I can go with you, and then on the way there we can stop at this bridal shop to look at wedding dresses!” My smile turns into a complete frown. This was a trick. This was a very mean trick that I didn’t even see coming. Damn you, Bridezilla! Damn you!

  I begin to clench my teeth. “Fantastic,” I say trying to hide my aggravation. “Sounds like so much fun.” I want to shoot myself in this moment. How did I just fall for her evil bridal ploy?

  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  After much time and effort of driving through the city, I finally find a parking spot on the street near Davio’s. Getting out of my car and walking toward the restaurant, I feel a cool yet refreshing wind against my face. I take a deep breath and let it all in. I can’t deny it and I’ll say it again: Fall is my favorite season. In fact, Philadelphia in the Fall is as beautiful as anything gets. People are going out more, everyone’s socializing, and tailgating at the football games. It’s just awesome. It’s pure and natural awesome.

  I walk into Davio’s and begin to look around for Karen. “Excuse me? Can I help you, Miss?” the hostess asks me.

  “I’m actually meeting a few—”

  “Leslee!” Karen yells through the restaurant, startling the other patrons. I can see Karen waving her hands in the air in the far back. “Leslee! We’re right here!”

  I laugh nervously out of pure embarrassment as I walk toward Karen’s table. In an upscale restaurant like this, I’m sure that people generally do not yell across the room for their party to join them. But, that’s just classic Karen, and that is why she’s my best friend. I smile at her.

  “Hey, Leslee!” Karen shouts as she hugs me in front of the table. “I’m glad you made it tonight.” Haven’t we seen enough of each other? I think to myself. Today, she drove me crazy … literally. What started off as a trip to the King of Prussia Mall turned into the mad search for a wedding dress. Yes, it’s a month and a half before her wedding, and yes, she should have her dress and, in fact, did buy a dress, but apparently she’s not satisfied with it. Typical Bridezilla shenanigans.

  “I’m happy to be here,” I say once she lets go of me. Hugging Karen really is like hugging a bear. She hugs so tightly that it’s almost suffocating. “Thank you for inviting me,” I tell her as I sit at the table. I realize that the women that I’m surrounded by are not only diverse, but beautiful. Karen wasn’t kidding around when she said we all had to look good for her wedding. Of course, I wouldn’t expect Karen to keep the company of dirty, funky-looking people. It seems that she has a nice friend-base, so to speak.

  “OK,” Karen starts, “everyone, this is Leslee, my best friend in the whole wide world. Leslee, these are the girls: Alisha, Angelique, my cousin and maid of honor; Jen, Cheyenne, and Vanessa.”

  The women all say hi to me and smile. I’m beginning to feel this crazy sense of déjà vu. It’s like I’m back in New York again with my old friends. I miss the spa days and the weird French food. But, maybe I can develop new friendships with Karen’s friends. It’s definitely a possibility.

  “So, did you order anything yet?” I ask Karen.

  “Drinks, of course,” she tells me. “Well, red wine anyway.”

  “Is that a part of our wedding workout and nutrition regimen?” Vanessa asks sarcastically and the women at the table laugh except for Karen.

  “Ha ha, very funny, bitches,” Karen says rolling her eyes. “There was nothing wrong with the regimen.”

  “Besides the fact that you want to know about everything that goes in our mouths,” Jen replies.

  “I already know what goes in your mouth, Jen,” Karen starts, “and it’s attached to a pair of balls.” The women all laugh again. It’s like everything is falling into place. It’s been awhile since I’ve had a girls’ night out, and it feels good to finally be surrounded by such wonderful, funny women.

  The waiter brings our wine and we order our food. We all discuss the perils of a woman’s life: clothes, men, children, culture, city life. It’s nice to find out more and more about these women and how incredibly interesting they are. It’s also refreshing that we get along so well.

  “So, let’s make a toast,” Angelique announces as we all lift up our glasses. My New York déjà vu, indeed! “Here’s a toast to Karen, our crazy, lovable, wonderful bride, and we hope that she and Russ are happy for years to come—”

  “And to those crazy nights filled with sexual pleasure and pain,” Jen adds as we all laugh.

  “And to her shitty wedding workout regimen,” Vanessa says.

  “And we hope one day to be as happy as you are,” I add. “Karen, we love you, and we hope that your wedding day is as beautiful as you imagine it to be. Cheers.”

  “Cheers!” we all say and drink to our Bridezilla. We continue with our girls’ night out by eating the delicious Davio’s cuisine and discussing our lives, our pet peeves, and Karen’s wedding in detail. It’s the perfect way of getting to know each other. I guess you can call it ‘friend-dating,’ or even better, ‘friending.’

  After dinner, we decide to hit up 105 Social Lounge on Grape Street in Manayunk. After the elegance of Davio’s, we needed to go somewhere more low-key and relaxing with good drinks and good music. 105 Social Lounge is perfect just for that.

  I grab my Chocolate Covered Strawberry drink and look around the bar. I have to say that the men in here aren’t that bad. Definitely some potential in the room.

  “OK ladies,” Angelique starts, “let’s go man hunting.”

  “I’m down with that,” Jen chimes in.

  “Amen and hallelujah!” Cheyenne shouts. We all look at her strangely. She slumps into her bar stool. “Sorry, I’m just really excited.”

  “Leslee, what do you think?” Angelique asks me and I shrug my shoulders.

  “The outlook’s pretty good,” I say. “There are a few hotties in here that I’d be willing to sink my teeth into, but I’m pretty content by myself.”

  “Bullshit,” Vanessa says as she sips on her martini. “You mean to tell me that you’re content with not having a boyfriend and not having sex?”

  “Let’s just say that I’ve done a lot of soul-searching,” I tell her as two tall, incredibly gorgeous men in suits walk past us. One of them winks at Angelique. She begins to giggle. I just roll my eyes.

  “Did you see that?” Angelique whispers to Karen. “That guy just winked at me!”

  “He’s a douche,” I say as I gulp my drink.

  “What?” Vanessa says, shocked. “Those were two Grade-A men that ju
st walked past us.”

  “OK,” I start, “but what men do you know wear business suits on a Saturday? They only did that to impress the women here.”

  “And it obviously worked,” Angelique says. “I’m gonna go and talk to him.” She begins to walk away and I grab her.

  “No, don’t do that,” I tell her. “If he’s interested in you, he’ll come back. Never run after a man. You’ll look desperate.”

  “But he winked at me!” Angelique whines.

  “Maybe he has a nervous twitch,” Alisha chimes in. I suddenly notice a Justin Timberlake lookalike staring at Jen from across the room.

  “Jen, smile,” I tell her as I look away from him.

  “Why?” she asks.

  “Because there’s a really cute looking guy looking at you over there,” I say gesturing to the other side of the room. All the women except me turn to look at him. “You can’t all look at him!” I snap. They continue to stare. “Turn around, turn around!” The ladies turn their heads the other way. This is such a sad thing. They don’t even know how to pick up guys right without intimidating them. “Look, when you’re at a bar with your friends, you can’t all look at the same guy. Men are scared, little puppy dogs.”

  “What do I do then?” Jen asks.

  “You’re going to lock eyes with him for three seconds, give a little smile, move your hair behind your ear, then look away,” I instruct her. “Trust me, it works.”

  Jen sighs. “Well, here goes nothing,” she says and looks over at our resident Justin. She slightly smiles, moves her hair softly, then looks away. “OK, now what?”

  “You wait,” I say.

  “How do you know if he’s a normal guy?” Vanessa asks me. “He could very well be some sort of psycho.”

  “Well, let’s see,” I start. “By looking at him, it seems as if his hygiene is clean, he has all his teeth which are white so that also means he visits his dentist regularly, his clothes aren’t wrinkled, he’s not surrounded by a clan of douchebags and as you ladies already know, you are the company you keep. He seems normal from a physical aspect. All you have to do, Jen, is talk to him.” I notice him walking towards us. “Ladies, turn the other way!” I whisper. “He’s coming over here.”