Blogger Girl

by Schorr, Meredith

  Laughing, I said, “You’re just excited. That’s a good thing.”

  He’s so smart, Kim!”

  I placed the phone in the crook of my neck and checked out my outfit from all angles in the mirror. “Yeah, I know. It’s a shame the way he fries his brain with all that pot. And his lungs with all that nicotine.”

  “Commandment number seven, ‘thou shalt not judge!’”

  “Um, that would be ‘thou shalt not commit adultery.’”

  “Whatever. Thou shalt not throw one’s superior knowledge of the commandments in her best friend’s face.”

  Laughing, I said, “Okay! Thou shalt stop post haste.” We both knew I didn’t call to discuss Jonathan’s high intelligence quotient anyway. “So?”

  “So?”

  Groaning, I said, “C’mon Bridge! What happened?”

  When Bridget didn’t say anything, I felt my stomach drop. What if I was wrong? What if I’d set her up for failure? Jonathan was the first guy Bridget had been excited about in more than a year and if I was responsible for getting her hopes up only to have them crushed, I’d never forgive my…

  Interrupting my worries, Bridget finally said, “I think you were right.” Her voice was calm and steady.

  Tired of standing, I walked into one of the stalls, threw some toilet paper on the toilet seat and sat down.

  “Sparks were flying, Kim,” she continued.

  “Yeah? Did something happen?” I suddenly had a vision of them going at it doggie style in Jonathan’s black and white tiled bathroom and shuddered.

  “No. Nothing happened. But I felt it. We were laughing constantly and every so often, we’d lock eyes and there would be this awkward silence until one of us looked away. And I felt this warmth in my belly whenever that happened.” She paused. “I don’t know Kim. I think he likes me too.”

  “I told you so!” The two of them as a couple felt a bit incestuous to me but she sounded so happy that I’d learn to live with it.

  “Anyway, we set up another appointment for Friday because he said he has more to show me.”

  “If he brings out the Astroglide, run in the opposite direction. Been there, done that. Just sayin…”

  “Kim!”

  Chuckling, I said, “Sorry. Keep me posted okay?”

  “Of course.”

  After we hung up, I headed back to my desk to close up shop since it was almost 5:30. I exited out of all of the applications on my computer and was about to log off when my phone rang. I glanced at the face of my phone to see who was calling. Interesting. “Hey.”

  “What’s up?”

  “Not much. What’s up with you?” It could not be a coincidence that Jonathan happened to call me the very same day he had an appointment with Bridget where sparks were apparently flying.

  “Not much. I haven’t spoken to you since the reunion and wanted to see how you were. How’s purple is the new green?” He laughed in acknowledgement that he butchered the name of my blog again.

  Not bothering to correct him this time, I said, “It’s fine.” I saw Cut on the Bias peeking out of my pocketbook. “It’s great.”

  Jonathan coughed. “So, um, how’s that guy from the reunion? Nick?”

  “Nicholas,” I corrected, remembering Nicholas’ aversion to being called Nick. “He’s good. Why?”

  Jonathan coughed again. “Nothing. He seemed like a decent guy. You guys dating?”

  “Yeah.” Dating seemed like a reasonable description for what we were doing. “We’ve been spending a lot of time together.”

  “Cool.”

  “Why? Wondering why I haven’t called you in a while?” I teased.

  When Jonathan choked out another cough, I remembered Bridget and instantly felt my face heat up. I realized my rapport with Jonathan would have to change drastically if a romance developed between him and my best friend. Recovering, I said, “Joking!”

  Quickly changing the subject, Jonathan said, “I hung out with Bridget today.”

  Playing dumb, I said, “Yeah? How’d that go?”

  “Fine. Good.”

  An awkward silence filled the air. Was I supposed to offer my permission for him to date her? Was he asking for my permission? Was he even interested in dating Bridget or was his brain too fried up on marijuana to even recognize her interest?

  “Does she date?” When he coughed again, it became clear that it was a nervous tick and not a result of too much nicotine in his lungs.

  I wasn’t sure how to answer. The truthful answer at least with respect to the last 400 or so days was that “no, she didn’t date,” but that might suggest she wasn’t interested in dating him. “She’s not dating anyone right now,” I said. Then I added, “No one special at least,” so as to not paint her as a desperate hermit. Somewhat enjoying his obvious discomfort with the topic of conversation, I said, “Why do you ask?” I resisted the urge to laugh out loud.

  “Curious, that’s all. I’ve never heard her talk about guys. She’s not a lesbian, is she?”

  Unable to restrain myself any longer, I chuckled into the phone. “Most definitely not. Bridget is definitely straight, despite Hannah's attempt to convince our classmates of the contrary.”

  “Okay,” Jonathan said, letting out a sigh that sounded a lot like relief.

  There was no way I was going to blatantly offer him my blessing to date her, nor was I going to out her interest in him without her permission. The conversation was becoming painfully awkward, though, so I searched my brain for a way to slickly give Jonathan the heads up. I recalled my conversation with Bridget from earlier and a bell rang in my brain. “When Bridget likes a guy, she tends to giggle a lot. And she has trouble maintaining eye contact for too long before looking away. Oh and when she really likes a guy, she’s not always upfront about it. Sometimes she comes up with excuses to spend time with him hoping he’ll get the hint.” Please get the hint Jonathan.

  “Great!” Jonathan said brightly.

  “I would love to see her happy.”

  “Yeah, she’s a great girl,” Jonathan agreed.

  Trying to convey my approval without being specific, I said, “I would love to see her happy with the right guy.” I paused for an extra beat. “No matter who he is.”

  “Got it,” Jonathan said. “And, Kim?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Thanks.”

  I smiled. I could have had a career in politics.

  By the time we got off of the phone, it was 5:45. Wanting to leave before yet another person called me, I dialed Rob’s extension.

  Picking up after one ring, he said, “Hey.” I could tell he had me on speaker phone.

  “Calling to let you know I’m leaving for the night.” I began logging out of my computer.

  “Okay. Have a good one.”

  “You too,” I said. I placed the phone back on the receiver and stood up to grab my jacket as Nicholas walked out of Rob’s office.

  “Glad I caught you,” he said with a lazy grin.

  I looked at him longingly. “I’m glad too. Don’t work too hard tonight.” I looked down at my toes and back at him. “Not sure why I always say that. Of course, you’ll work too hard!”

  Nicholas leaned over my desk so he was closer to where I was still standing on the other side. “What are you doing later?” he asked in a soft voice.

  “The plan is to go to the gym and run some errands.” I glanced at my watch. “Was hoping to get out of here early so I’d have more time.”

  “I won’t keep you. Just wondered if you might want some company later. I can come by after work. It will be too late for an actual date, but I’d like to see you anyway.”

  Laughing at him, I said, “You mean for a booty call?”

  Nicholas brushed his hand gently across my cheek and nodded. “If you’re good, I’ll throw in a little conversation too. Tell you all about my day in the office.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “Is that supposed to be incentive to be ‘good’? And besides, I thought I was alw
ays good.”

  Winking at me, he said, “You are.”

  “Okay, but it depends on how late you work. I’m not waiting up for you to come by at 2 a.m.”

  Nicholas shook his head. “It should be closer to 11. Midnight at the latest. Otherwise, I’ll go straight home.”

  “That should work.” After a quick check to my left and right to make sure no one was watching, I gave Nicholas a soft peck on the lips, smiled and said, “See you later.”

  On my way home, I stopped at Fairway to restock my refrigerator and then to the gym for a combination spin and Pilates class. After my shower, I luxuriated in the bathtub with a glass of wine. And then I put on the new pink teddy I had picked up at Victoria’s Secret and a long fuzzy pale blue robe. I lost myself in the second half of Cut on the Bias without interruption until I received a text from Nicholas shortly before 11. “Finished for the night! Still up for company?”

  I put the book down on my coffee table and texted back, “Who did you have in mind?”

  “It’s a bit early in the relationship to resort to fantasy, but I can be anyone you want. Spider Man, maybe?”

  “Superheroes are super sexy. Come on over!”

  When my bell rang about twenty minutes later, I wrapped my robe tightly around my waist and buzzed him in.

  When I opened the door, he gave me a huge smile and then eyed me from head to toe. “You look comfy.”

  “You think?” I stuck my head into the hallway and looked both ways. After I made sure no one was there, I untied my robe and opened it very slowly. Nicholas didn’t say anything as he stared down the length of my body. I stood on my tippy toes and nuzzled his neck while his hands found their way inside my robe and began caressing my lower back. I pulled away and never removing my eyes from his, reached up to let the robe fall over my shoulders and to the ground at my feet.

  He smiled and without a word grabbed my hand and walked inside my apartment, kicking the door behind him. “I must have you now.”

  And he did. We didn’t even make it to my bed less than ten feet away.

  Later that night, I couldn’t sleep. I looked over at Nicholas who was sleeping soundly with his head on the edge of my over-sized pillow. I had to know how it ended.

  I slid out of the bed, grabbed the book from my coffee table and stretched the length of my couch. By the time I reached the bio section at the end and tossed the book on the floor, I could see the sun starting to rise. I wiped the tears from the corners of my eyes and crawled back into bed. Nicholas was still sleeping and I wrapped my body around his. He shuddered and abruptly sat up. “What’s wrong?” He looked around the room as if trying to orient himself with his surroundings. “What happened?”

  I mumbled, “Nothing” and pushed him back on the bed, burying my face in his chest. I let my fingers rest on the soft dark hair on his flat stomach.

  “Did you have a bad dream?”

  I shook my head. “I wish it was a dream. It’s certainly a nightmare.”

  Nicholas lifted me off of him and placed his hands on my shoulders forcing me to look at him. “What’s going on? Why are you crying?”

  “I’m crying over Hannah’s book! Partly because the ending gave me the warm and fuzzies and I always cry over happy endings. But also because…”

  Nicholas looked at me with concern and urged me to continue. “Because of what?” he said, wiping a tear from my eye.

  “But also because…” I lowered my chin to my chest. “Because it was really good. The book. It was really, really good, Nicholas.”

  Nicholas frowned. “I’m sorry, Kimmie. I know you were hoping the book would suck so you wouldn’t have to write a positive review.”

  I nodded, feeling my lips tremble.

  “But it’s not the worst thing in the world,” he said matter-of-factly.

  “Easy for you to say,” I muttered.

  Nicholas let out a deep exhale. “No. It’s not ‘easy for me to say.’ I know how hard this has been for you. I know you really don’t like the chick. And, yeah, it sucks that the bitch from high school, who you hate, is a good writer. But maybe you should acknowledge the real reason it upsets you so much.”

  I cocked my head to the side. “What do you mean by that?”

  Nicholas looked me directly in the eyes. “I don’t think you’re this upset simply because Hannah the Bitch wrote a good book.” He paused for a beat. “I think you’re upset because Hannah wrote a book and you didn’t. Period.”

  I gasped. “What?”

  “I’m sorry Kimmie, but I think it’s time you admitted to yourself that you want to be a writer. Like Hannah.”

  Feeling my eyes water, I asked, “Why would you say something like that?”

  Frowning at me, Nicholas said. “Because it’s true, Kimmie. Maybe you have your friends fooled but you can’t fool me. I’ve seen the way you react when the subject of Hannah’s book comes up. It’s way too strong a reaction for someone who just didn’t like the chick in high school. You’re jealous.”

  I took a sharp intake of breath. It was true I had strong feelings for Hannah but jealousy was not one of them. My heart pounding, I asked, “I can’t believe you would say that to me.”

  Nicholas shrugged. “Someone had to.”

  I recalled with annoyance the numerous times Nicholas had asked me about writing a book. “Why do you care so much if I write?”

  Nicholas’ eyebrows squished together. “What do you mean?”

  “You even bought me a stupid journal!”

  Nicholas jerked his head back. “It was a gift, Kim. I was trying to be supportive.”

  “Like you were being supportive at dinner with your friends when you totally inflated my role as a secretary? I hate to break it to you, but I’m a secretary. I’m not the anchor of any team.”

  “I meant it as a compliment,” Nicholas said softly.

  “It was condescending. I don’t know who is worse, you or Daneen. At least she’s blatant about it, but you seem embarrassed by it. Embarrassed by me.”

  Nicholas’ eyes opened wide. “What?”

  “Because I’m just a secretary. At least my popular blog makes me a little bit more important, right?”

  Nicholas buried his head in his hands.

  My pulse speeding, I continued, “That’s why you care so much, isn’t it? If I was an actual writer, maybe I’d be good enough for you. Someone you would take seriously.“

  “Whoa! Who said I didn’t take you seriously?” Nicholas said, pushing the blankets away and standing up.

  I shrugged. “You’re a big-time lawyer. I’m sure you’d prefer to date someone at your professional level. Like Mary!”

  Nicholas looked at me with his eyes bugging out. “Mary? What are you talking about?” He stepped into his pants, which had been tossed at the side of my bed. “Let me ask you something. Why would you want to be with someone you think so little of?”

  The tears stung my eyes but I refused to brush them away. “What?”

  His face now flushed with anger, he said, “If you think I’m such a fucking snob, why am I here?” He walked over to my doorway, grabbed the briefcase he had dropped next to my robe and turned around to face me. “Kim. The truth is it makes no difference to me what you do for a living as long as you’re passionate about it. I wouldn’t care if you were a garbage collector if you loved the job or if it made you happy. But for you to say you’re passionate about being a legal secretary is a joke. I’ve watched you at work, Kim. It’s a good job and you do it well, but you’re bored out of your mind! You put more enthusiasm into tweeting about your blog than anything you do for Rob and you have zero motivation to change it.”

  Unwilling to relent my position, I followed him to the door. “All the compliments about my communication skills and my being the anchor of the team? Bunch of bullshit to make you feel better about dating a measly secretary, right? In fact, you barely spoke to me until Rob told you about my blog.”

  Nicholas shook his head at me in d
isbelief. “If anyone in this room is embarrassed about what you do for a living, it’s you, not me. I had a crush on you since your very first day, before I knew anything about your stupid blog. The blog just gave me a good opening.” Nicholas’ hand was on the doorknob but he turned to face me one last time. His facial expression had turned from angry to sad. “Truth is I did take you seriously, Kim. I wanted you to be happy and was trying to give you a push in the right direction. I actually thought I might be falling for you. But now I see that you’re complacent and that’s not what I’m looking for.” Shaking his head, he said, “I would say that maybe I’d give Hannah a call after all since, unlike you, she’s not afraid to take risks. But that would just be cruel, wouldn’t it?” With that, he turned the doorknob and walked out, letting the door slam behind him.

  After he left, I stared at my front door as if waiting for him to walk back in. Too stunned to react to what had just happened, I crawled into bed and cried myself to sleep.

  CHAPTER 22

  WHEN I WOKE UP FOR WORK, over a half hour late, my eyes felt swollen as if I’d bathed in a tub of pollen. I showered, replaying in horror the events of the night before, from crying over the ending of Hannah’s book, to confiding my devastation to Nicholas, to accusing him of being ashamed of me. I recoiled at the memory and turned up the temperature of the water, hoping to burn the memory to ashes. But when I opened my eyes, I could still see the astonished look in Nicholas’ eyes. And the anger. There was a part of me that wanted to apologize. Nicholas had looked sincerely shocked by my accusations and maybe I had gotten carried away as a result of finishing Hannah’s book. But I couldn’t erase the way Nicholas’ claim that I was jealous of Hannah made me feel. And he had definitely gone too far by threatening to give her a call.