Blogger Girl

by Schorr, Meredith

  “It’s the least I can do to repay you for the freebie. As long as you don’t make any of their websites as nice as mine,” I said, only half joking. Bridget had done such a great job on the Pastel is the New Black website that many authors and bloggers had asked for the name of my designer.

  Bridget winked at me. “No worries, sweetheart.”

  I smiled. “Cool. I’ll say it again. You look gorgeous tonight.”

  “Thanks, K! You look adorable as always. And you look very pretty, Caroline.”

  Caroline beamed. “Thanks, Bridget!”

  “Well, now that we’ve established our mutual admiration society, I’ve decided we’re going to share the artichoke pizza and the artichoke and avocado salad. Does that work?” I asked.

  Bridget nodded. “Don’t even have to look at the menu.” Glancing at Caroline with obvious concern, she said, “Probably not enough food for three though. What do you think?”

  “No worries. I don’t like artichokes. Going to order the penne vodka,” Caroline said.

  Bridget let out a sigh of relief and said, “We’ll try not to judge you for your blatant disrespect of the artichoke.”

  About forty minutes later, the main courses had been served and we were each nearing the bottom of our second glass of wine. I had filled both girls in on Hannah’s friend request. Bridget was adamant in her opinion that I should ignore it.

  Bridget cringed. “Blow off that two-faced biatch!” she said, her fair skin now flushed from the wine.

  Caroline laughed. “Geez. Did she torture you guys in high school or something?”

  I wiped my mouth and placed my napkin back on my lap. “She tried.”

  Her chin held high, Bridget said, “But she didn’t get very far. Kim and I had no interest in being in her clique and so her attempts to get us to bow down to her were in vain. Watching her try even harder was actually comical.”

  Even though it was true that we had no interest in hanging with her crowd, she seemed bent on making us look bad and it took a lot of effort to not let it get to me. Bridget always insisted that she didn’t care how much Hannah toyed with her, but she drew the line when Hannah messed with her BFF. “But she did hurt our feelings,” I admitted.

  Bridget waved her hand in protest. “She hurt your feelings, which hurt my feelings. I couldn’t care less whether her little sheep thought I was a lesbian.”

  Caroline opened her eyes wide. “Why would they think that?”

  Playing with the remaining crust on her pizza, Bridget said, “Because Hannah's a lying bitch, that's why.”

  “What happened?” Caroline asked.

  Bridget cocked her head in my direction. “You tell her, Kim.”

  As my stomach churned at the memory, I let out a breath. “Bridget had a meeting with the Guidance Counselor about college applications one morning and when she left his office, she saw one of our other classmates crying. The girl’s grandmother had just died and she was waiting for her parents to pick her up. Bridget took the girl to the bathroom so she could cry in private and Hannah walked in on them hugging and told everyone how cool it was that Bridget was so open about being gay.” I looked at Bridget and smiled softly. “I must say, you took it all in stride.” Hannah had probably expected Bridget to fiercely deny that she was gay which would have added fuel to the fire, but Bridget refused to confirm her sexual orientation and speculation ceased in record time.

  “Like I said, I couldn’t care less what people thought,” Bridget said. With a grin, she added, “I made a lot of new gay friends as a result of that rumor. One of them even talked me out of dying my hair brown.”

  I looked at Bridget's hair in envy. “Thank God for him. It should be a crime to mess with that color.”

  “His words exactly!” Bridget said.

  “So...you think I should just accept the request being that I’ll see her at the reunion?” I asked.

  “No!” Bridget yelled at the same time Caroline said, “Yes!”

  I looked at Caroline. “Plead your case.”

  Caroline put down her now empty glass of wine. “If you ignore the request, it will seem like you still care. On the flip side, if you say yes, it will look like you’re completely over it.”

  “Or that you’re dying to be her friend!” Bridget protested.

  “I don’t know what to do,” I whined.

  “It’s only Facebook, girls,” Caroline said. “Who cares?”

  “I don’t care about Facebook. I have nothing to hide and I’m sure Erin would gladly give her the scoop on my life anyway, but I don’t want to hear about her stupid book.”

  “Knowing Hannah, she’ll probably make a comment about the number of friends you have on Facebook and how sad it is that you aren’t more popular,” Bridget said, rolling her eyes.

  I had to laugh at Bridget. She really had no patience for Hannah’s phoniness.

  “Okay. Time for a subject change. Anyone been on any good dates lately?” Caroline asked, sliding her chair closer to the table.

  “No,” I said.

  “Nope. Although I haven’t been on any bad dates either,” said Bridget with a sheepish grin.

  “That makes three of us,” Caroline said. “So much for my attempted subject change.”

  “Kim got laid on Thursday night though,” Bridget announced.

  Caroline leaned over the table in interest and belted out an enthusiastic, “Woo Hoo! Why are holding out on me?”

  “I’m not. He’s old news,” I said, yawning.

  We remained silent until the waitress finished refilling our water glasses. When she left, Caroline said, “Jonathan?”

  “You know about Jonathan?” Bridget asked.

  “Only that Kim has sex with him from time to time,” Caroline said.

  “There’s nothing else to know about him. He’s not the one I want,” I said.

  “Ah, Nicholas,” both girls said, again at the same time.

  “Wow, we’re all in sync tonight.” I giggled.

  “Anything new with that?” Caroline asked.

  Casually, I said, “We had lunch together on Friday,” but I couldn’t contain my smile.

  “Oh now we’re making progress,” Caroline said brightly.

  I told the girls about our pseudo lunch date and Nicholas checking out my blog.

  “Wow, he seems interested,” Caroline said.

  “Except that he hasn’t asked me out! He’s probably equally friendly to every other girl at the firm,” I said. Of course, if I danced with the Rockettes or was up for a pediatric fellowship, he would have made a move already.

  Shaking her head, Caroline said, “You guys work together. Better to take it slow. What do you know about him?”

  “I obviously checked out his firm bio, but aside from the fact that he graduated college three years before me and published a few articles on copyright law, I don’t know much. Oh, and he lives in the West Village.”

  “Maybe you should ask about him next time you talk,” Caroline suggested.

  Tipping my head to the side, I said, “You think? I don’t want to come on too strong.”

  “It seems to me that Nicholas has made all of the attempts to get to know you so far. If you respond but never reciprocate, he might not get the hint that you’re into him,” Caroline said. I remembered Nicholas looking at his phone at Banc Café. From the smile plastered on his face, he was definitely texting a girl. But he did give up a working lunch to eat with me and that had to count for something.

  “And seriously, what straight guy would read a blog about chick lit if he wasn’t into a girl?” Bridget asked.

  She has a point. “Okay. I’ll try.”

  “You go girl!” Bridget said. “Where to next? Dancing?”

  I shook my head.

  “Karaoke?” she asked.

  I laughed.

  “Okay then. Where?” Bridget pouted.

  Caroline said, “I’m sorry to be lame, but I’m gonna head back to Jersey. Exhausted and want to g
et on the road early tomorrow morning.” Looking at Bridget, she said, “Seeing my baby brother tomorrow.”

  Bridget gave Caroline a wide smile and said, “Aw! Take some pictures of the cutie for us.” Then she looked at me. “What about you, K?”

  “Sorry, Bridge, but I think I need to call it in too. I am so behind on my reading and want to get up early tomorrow to catch up. You mad?” I asked.

  Bridget continued to pout but shook her head. “Nah, that’s fine. Next time I consider getting all gussied up, I’ll reconsider.”

  Her pout won me over, and I relented. “Okay, how about we share a carafe of Watermelon Sangria at Vero next door?”

  Bridget’s face lit up and her frown turned into a wide grin. “Really?”

  “Really! But a carafe means a carafe and not a pitcher, okay?”

  Bridget extended her hand to me across the table. “Deal.”

  I gave her hand a firm shake and repeated, “Deal.”

  CHAPTER 6

  Kimberly Long @pastelisnewblack

  Check out my 4-star review of Beauty Meets the Beast by @AliKatt tinyurl.com/1234 #chicklit

  THE PASTEL IS THE NEW BLACK TWITTER and Facebook pages now up-to-date with my most recent reviews, I took a sip of my Monday morning coffee and hesitantly logged onto my personal Facebook page. I took a deep breath and confirmed Hannah’s friend request. I decided that Caroline had a stronger and certainly more objective case than Bridget. Besides, I had at least a hundred friends on Facebook I never communicated with anyway. I would simply add Hannah to that list.

  By the time I finished performing the unusually long list of tasks outlined for me in Rob’s various emails, it was almost noon. I removed a compact from my pocketbook, smiled into the mirror to confirm my teeth were void of any unwanted food materials and replenished my lip gloss. Then I got up and walked over to Rob’s door. “Stepping away for a few minutes. I’ll bring my Blackberry in case you need me.” Most secretaries were not given firm Blackberries but Rob liked to consider himself the exception to every rule and as his assistant, I became the exception to that one. Thankfully, none of the other secretaries were jealous since none of them had any desire to be accessible to their partners 24/7. I didn’t complain since Rob rarely took advantage.

  Rob didn’t answer except to brush me off with his hand.

  I closed my eyes and took a calming breath. Then I straightened out my black pencil skirt and walked to the other side of the floor to Nicholas' office. Caroline was right. He had shown interest in my blog on two separate occasions and it was time to reciprocate by showing interest in his life. I stepped into the hallway and was about to turn left toward his office when I heard a high-pitched giggle followed by a deep masculine voice coming from the elevator bank to my right. I turned around and stopped in my tracks as I observed Nicholas talking to a blonde girl who looked to be about my age. Their voices trailed off as he placed his hand on the small of her back and followed her into the elevator. Although I didn’t get a great look at her, I saw enough to confirm that I had never seen her before, she had the body of an Olympic beach volleyball player and she was pretty. My breath caught in my throat and my stomach plummeted into achiness as I headed back to my side of the floor.

  Rob was hovering over my desk. “Can I help you?” I asked.

  Looking up, he said, “Back so soon?”

  I shrugged and squeezed in front of him to my chair. “It appears that way,” I said flatly. At least I hadn't walked into Nicholas' office while he was in there with his leggy blonde lunch date. Based on their casual demeanor, I reluctantly ruled her out as a client.

  “I was looking for your desk calendar. I couldn’t remember if I had a lunch meeting today.”

  I shook my head. “Not that I am aware.”

  “Then I can safely assume I have nothing scheduled!” Rob grinned at me before heading back to his office and closing the door behind him.

  I removed my phone from my bag and sent a text to Bridget and Caroline. “Nicholas is not interested in me. I accidentally spied him leaving for a lunch date with some blonde chick “ Hoping to stop thinking about Nicholas and “the girl”, I chewed over what to do about lunch. I had brought a sandwich from home but as tempting as tuna fish, lettuce and tomato on a sesame seed bun had seemed when I prepared it the night before, I was no longer craving it, which is what always happened when I packed a lunch at home. I also wasn't thrilled about reading through lunch since I wasn't enjoying the Olivia Geffen novel nearly as much as I had expected. I sincerely hoped it would have a happy ending, but I was starting to think at least one person was going to die an ugly death and those fortunate to survive would wish they hadn’t. The angel on my shoulder reminded me that I spent way too much money lately going out to eat and so I reluctantly stood up and started walking to the pantry where I had left the sandwich in the refrigerator earlier that morning. As I rounded the corner, my phone sounded the receipt of a text message from Bridget. “Nicholas Strong rhymes with Long is just plain WRONG if he's not interested in my BFF. Fuck him!” I could always count on Bridget to make me giggle even in my moments of despair. Then I received a text from Caroline. “First of all, it might not be a date. And if it is a date, it doesn't mean he's with her exclusively. Don't make assumptions.” I bit my cheek pondering her words. Caroline was always more level headed than Bridget who tended to jump to the worst case scenario. They were like yin and yang. I hoped Caroline was right but I sadly suspected she wasn't. After grabbing my brown paper bag from the refrigerator, I began walking back to my desk as I received another text from Caroline. “By the way, I walked past the Shake Shack on my way back from American Apparel a second ago. The line isn't long. I can get on it now if you want to meet for lunch.”

  In another indisputable win for the devil on my shoulder, I tossed my lunch bag in the garbage can by my desk and texted her back, “I'm on my way.”

  ***

  If the line at the famous Shake Shack burger joint in Madison Square Park wasn’t long when Caroline had sent her text, it certainly was by the time I arrived. And to make matters worse, there were two separate lines: one to place your order and one to pick up your food when it was ready. It was not unusual for the process to take an hour or more. I scanned the order line and thanks to her height and shiny blonde hair, I quickly spotted Caroline smack in the middle.

  I tapped her on the shoulder, clearly taking her by surprise as her feet lifted slightly in the air. “Hey there,” I said. I took in the smell of juicy burgers radiating the air. “Great idea.”

  Smiling down at me, Caroline said, “So glad you were free.” Scrunching her face in concern, she said, “Are you still upset about Nicholas?”

  Trying to make light of it, I said, “I don’t even really know the guy. I just think he’s hot. I always assumed he had a girlfriend or was a player anyway.” I knew my statement made sense logically, but no matter how hard I tried to convince myself, I kept playing back our lunch together in my head and the way my heart fluttered whenever he smiled at me and those slight crinkles appeared around his eyes. “It sucks though,” I admitted.

  “Well, like I wrote in my text, you don’t know who that girl is. He might be single and he might be interested in you. Try to let things play out naturally.”

  I shrugged. “Okay. How was yesterday?”

  “Seeing the little man was fun. I wish I could say the same about watching my dad slip Monica the tongue all day. Literally. All Day.” Caroline stuck a finger in her mouth and made a gagging motion.

  “Yikes. That sucks, I’m so sorry,” I said, patting her on the arm.

  Giving me a closed-mouth smile, Caroline said, “It is what it is. Let’s change the subject, shall we? What are you getting?”

  “Shack Burger and a strawberry shake,” I said without hesitation.

  “No fries?”

  I shook my head. “Too much food. Either burger and fries or burger and shake. I can’t do all three and expect to be productive this afte
rnoon.”

  Caroline looked at me in envy. “Self control. That’s why you’re so skinny. I must have all three!”

  I gave Caroline a once-over. Although I would not describe her as “skinny,” she wasn’t the slightest bit heavy either. I rolled my eyes and was about to tell her she was insane when I caught a glance of a familiar looking blonde walking over to the pick-up line. As it dawned on me why she looked familiar, the sight of Nicholas right behind her confirmed my suspicion. Although he was somewhat far away, I recognized the blue and white gingham shirt he was wearing when I spotted him in the elevator bank. I felt an ache in the back of my throat. “Oh God.”

  Her eyes wide as saucers, Caroline said, “What’s wrong?”

  I looked toward my feet, chewing on a fingernail. My stomach was rumbling with nervous energy.

  Caroline placed her hand on my shoulder and in a soothing tone asked, “Kim? You okay?”

  “Nicholas is here,” I whispered as if he could hear me. “With the girl.” I shook my head again. My appetite had completely left the vicinity.

  “Where?” Caroline asked, looking frantically around the park.

  I cocked my head toward the pick-up station. “Over there. Tan leather jacket over a blue and white gingham shirt . Please be slick. I don’t want him to see me!” I placed the hood of my winter jacket over my head and stood behind Caroline hoping her tall frame would hide my short one.

  “I can’t see him well enough from here to tell if he’s cute.”

  “He is. Trust me.” I fought the urge to ask what he and the girl were doing. Were they holding hands? Sharing a French fry like Lady and the Tramp? I didn’t want to know.

  “Kim. Get a grip,” she said with a weak smile.

  “Easy for you to say.”

  Caroline looked me in the eyes and in a steady voice said, “You already knew he was going somewhere with that girl. Seeing him here doesn’t tell you anything you didn’t already know. And it doesn’t change what you still don’t know.”