Glimmer

by Ashley Munoz

  I smiled at her and she smiled back, as she sipped her coffee. “So, can I ask what happened to your last accountant?”

  She sounded nervous as she asked it, but still confident.

  “Ha, yeah, that is actually a great question. Jackson, my best friend, did it for me, for an entire year, while he was also opening and running his own restaurant. I was still so new, he wanted to help me out, but after a year, he released them back to me with some tips and a few video tutorials. I have been slowly sinking ever since,” I finished with a bit of a laugh, hoping she wouldn’t think I was too pathetic.

  “So, Jimmy’s is fairly new then?” she asked with a hint of concern.

  “Uh, yeah, it's just barely two years old this October,” I responded with an equal amount of concern. She was the professional here; maybe I was already in trouble?

  I waited for a cringe or a wince, but she just looked thoughtfully at the wall behind me and then down at her coffee. “Interesting, I thought you’d been open a bit longer than that. The place looks amazing, you and Jackson must have done something right,” she said with a laugh.

  “Yeah, well, I took out a pretty big loan to make it look so amazing. Jackson backed me for forty-percent of the company, he really stuck his neck out for me.” I had my fist under my jaw now, looking at her as I thought about my best friend taking the biggest risk of his life on me.

  “He sounds like an amazing guy, it's rare to find friends like that,” she said, while staring into her mug and running her index finger around the rim of the cup. It was a rare moment and I didn’t want to pass up the opportunity to get to know Ramsey. So, I looked away from the screen and pressed her with some questions before she could shoot me any more.

  “Speaking of friends like that, your mom mentioned that you had some still back in Chicago? That must have been difficult, to leave them behind?”

  Her eyes wandered to the wall behind me again, as if she was lost in thought. A moment later, she looked back down at her mug.

  “I have Laney, she’s my best friend. We still keep in touch every day, so it’s not too difficult and Chicago is only a few hours away.”

  I smiled at her, then dug in a little deeper. “Yeah, sounds like you left your whole life behind. No husband or boyfriend waiting for you in the Windy City?” I knew what her mom said, but part of me had to hear it from her. Even though pursuing anything with Ramsey was completely not possible, I still needed to hear that she wasn’t with someone.

  Ramsey turned a deep shade of red and moved her cup of coffee to the side and then back before she answered, “I’ve been single for a while. My last boyfriend tried to take our relationship to the next level by asking me to move in. Which I agreed to, only to come home one day to find him with someone. That was the end of that. Shortly after that, I got the phone call from my mom telling me about her diagnosis, so I took that timing as a sign to get over here to help her. The rest is history, albeit a short history so far.”

  She finished the tail end of her story by lifting her arms out with a subtle shrug, as if this house wasn’t exactly where she wanted to be. My eyes followed her gestures around the house, and I nodded along with her sentiment. I slowed my gaze as I came back around, tracing the mellow curve of her wrist up her arm, to the wispy hairs curled along the back of her neck, and my eyes fell on the tiny dimple on her cheek. Even from her profile, I could tell she had this proud, yet solemn, look about her.

  “What about you? You seemed upset last night, any time I brought up you going on another date," Ramsey asked, gesturing with her chin.

  My eyes jumped to meet hers, alarmed that she picked up on my frustration last night.

  "Upset?" I deflected, trying to figure out a way to explain my frustration last night without giving away the real reason, which I still didn't fully understand yet.

  "Well, frustrated at least," Ramsey hesitantly clarified, while pushing hair behind her ear. I drummed my fingers on the table and decided that I'd give her a little background instead.

  “I met my ex when I was a teenager, we got together when I was twenty. We were good together, then we weren’t, we did a lot of stupid stuff back then. I finally asked her to marry me when I knocked her up with Jasmine." I stopped for a moment, reminiscing about that day and that time of my life.

  "Did she say yes?" Ramsey carefully asked, quietly, like she was worried about my response.

  I smiled and continued, "Yes, she did. We had the quaintest shotgun wedding. And I was happy. Happy about our kid, happy about our life, but once Jasmine was born, things changed. I was doing more jobs for the club, legal jobs, which were hard to come by, and if you did snag them, they usually required longer hours, so I was spending more and more time away from Lisa and Jasmine. Soon enough, every time Lisa and I saw each other, we fought." I paused to take a drink of coffee.

  " That sounds really hard," Ramsey whispered, after sipping from her own cup. "What happened?"

  I rubbed at my chin, not sure how much to tell her. I wasn't ready to scare her off, but I also felt at ease talking to her. More at ease than I ever thought I would be with anyone again.

  "My mom died. My emotions were everywhere. I entered a few street tournaments for fighting, and was actually making decent money from it, but I was gone even more than I was before. The fighting eventually landed me in jail for a few months, where I sorted through my grief and had decided to turn my life around.

  “But when I got out, Lisa wasn’t there waiting for me. I should have known then, but we struggled in our marriage for another two years, until I woke up one morning and found a note on our bedroom mirror, letting me know that she couldn't wait around for me to go to prison again. There were a lot of reasons my marriage ended but that’s the short version. Sammy was barely a year old, Jasmine was four."

  I had to stop because I didn't want to think about what it was like to have my children’s mother abandon them.

  Ramsey was quiet, so I glanced up at her and saw tears threatening to fall from her eyes. She tucked her head down and swiped at them before responding, “Sorry, that’s just heartbreaking. I'm so sorry about your mom." She swiped at more tears before continuing.

  "I'm sorry if I'm out of line, but how could Lisa leave her babies? Sammy was so young. How could she leave you?” she asked and threw her hand towards me, then continued with her tirade, “I just don’t get it. I know I wasn’t there, and God knows if I will ever be there with the whole husband and kids thing, but I know that if I am ever blessed enough to get it, someone would have to kill me before they took it away. I’m so sorry you guys went through that.”

  I felt this kick in my heart and a lump in my throat. I never liked getting pity from anyone about what happened with Lisa, but I could feel it for my kids and for one tiny second, I wanted to feel it for me. Hearing Ramsey’s confession proved what I already knew to be true about her; she was no quitter. She would never quit on her family, the one that she would one day have. The kids that she would one day love, and the husband that she would stand beside. The thought of Ramsey getting the perfect family unit made my stomach twist with something stupidly close to jealousy. Why was I jealous?

  I had to control my emotions so that she wouldn’t see the treacherous feelings reflect on my face. “Ramsey, of course, you’ll have a husband and kids someday. Are you kidding me? My own kids already love you and they’ve only known you for a few days,” I said with a little laugh, to try and lighten the serious ache that was attached to those words.

  She smiled and dropped her hands to the mug in front of her, cradling it. With a smile on her face, she said, “Well, your kids are exceptional and if I am lucky, even a little bit, then my kids will be half as fun as yours."

  I was staring at her with an intense look, I knew that I was, but this conversation had to end. I was frustratingly too invested to joke around about Ramsey’s future kids. I knew that eventually, I would find it funny, eventually the novelty of how beautiful and fun Ramsey was would wear
off, but tonight, it was just a blunt steak knife to my gut. So, I threw my wrist in front of my face and looked at my watch, already aware that it was getting close to nine at night. But I declared it to Ramsey like a new revelation.

  “I should probably get going. It's getting late, and I have a new employee starting in the morning,” I said, as I stifled a yawn.

  Ramsey slowly stood and started stretching her arms above her head, even that was sexy and went down on my list of what not to allow Ramsey to do while at work. Yes, I had a list. Her wearing jean shorts was on the list, holding barbecue tongs was on it, licking her lips was a definite no-go, and now, stretching her arms above her head was on there. She looked apologetic before she said, “I’m sorry we didn’t get to the accounting terms, but I promise that I am very good at what I do, and I kind of love the idea of walking into something that’s not perfect. I like to see how much progress I can make on something.”

  I smiled at her and waved my hand over my laptop while scooping it up off the table. “Well, that’s good to hear because it's a mess. You will have your work cut out for you.”

  Ramsey laughed, then walked over to the counter and grabbed her keys. She turned towards me, while pulling on a knit sweater, and said, “Let me drive you home, boss.”

  I wasn’t in the habit of letting my employees drive me home after dark, but I also wasn’t in the habit of walking home with a twelve-hundred dollar laptop fastened around my shoulder. So, I smiled and followed her out the door, liking the idea way too much of Ramsey headed to my house at night. I needed to silence those thoughts before they took on a life of their own and became actions. I would have my game plan of how to deal with Ramsey professionally, starting fresh tomorrow.

  It was Monday morning and I was beyond excited. My alarm was set for seven, but I was up by five. I was finally going back into the field of work that I loved and like the complete nerd that I was, I could feel the buzz to crunch numbers and figures surging through my veins. Maybe that buzz was actually from the three cups of coffee I downed before I did twenty minutes of a half-assed morning yoga routine, which consisted mostly of bed making and jean shimmying.

  Jean shimmying was a new term I used when referencing those poor unfortunate jeans that fell victim to the dryer and shrank. That was the only explanation as to why my favorite, denim skinny jeans would barely button. It wouldn't have anything at all to do with the fact that I had sat on my ass for the last six months, watching cooking shows, and learning how to survive in the wilderness with just a bit of black string and a few twigs. I was now convinced that I could not only survive in the jungle, but also cook up something fantastic while out there.

  Now that my skinny jeans were officially on and securely fastened, I stood in front of my closet and flipped through several hanging shirts. I was battling a serious case of first day jitters, as well as possibly crushing on my new boss. The second part was definitely a problem, which brought me back to the shirt predicament. I didn't want to come off as unprofessional, but I also didn't want to come off as slutty, or do anything to actually fuel the small, tiny flame of a crush that I had going on.

  I pushed my hair off my neck and let out a strained sigh. I reached for my black blazer and a white shirt. There; fancy-ish, without being slutty.

  Now, for the shoes. I let out another sigh and I went into a crouched position, then eventually laid completely flat, half under my bed. I let out a groan as I pushed things out of my way. I cursed as I recalled how I was supposed to clean under the cramped space. I pushed those negative thoughts aside and kept searching for my black, slingback heels. Come on, stupid shoes!

  "Aha!" I slowly made my way out from under the bed and pulled the shoes free. I held them in the air, like a prized trophy. I might just make it on time after all, I mused to myself. I double-checked my face in the mirror; my makeup was fresh from a video tutorial, my wing-tipped eyes and shadowed lids were perfect. I had chosen a smooth red lipstick color, to match my darker complexion.

  I walked into the living room and found my mom doing some yoga video on the television. It was an old DVD that she had. As I watched her, I couldn’t help but smile because if I were given less than a year to live, there was no way in hell that I would waste any precious time exercising, even it was just yoga. But that wasn’t my mom. No, she began every morning with as much physical movement as she could manage, half a grapefruit, and a large glass of lemon water. She must be so disappointed with her Cocoa Puff-eating, coffee drinking, fake exercising daughter. Shaking my head to clear my self-deprecating thoughts, I walked into the kitchen to grab my thermos, and filled it with even more coffee. I grabbed my toast and made my way to my mom.

  “Mom, I’m headed to work. I should be home, around five, I think. I haven’t asked yet, but I think five. I will call you if it's later,” I said, while placing a kiss on her cheek.

  She smiled and touched my shoulder as she said goodbye. “Have a good day, sweetheart. Tell Jimmy hello for me. If he asks you out to dinner tonight, don’t hesitate to say yes. I have some leftovers still, or June from next door keeps bugging me to come over for dinner. Either way, don’t deny that boy,” she scolded me, like I was fifteen again.

  I knew my mother way too well to even put up an argument. But I was curious why she thought he'd ask me, so I asked while grabbing my purse. "Why do you think he's going to ask me to dinner, Mom?" I checked my phone and offhandedly added, "Besides, he's my boss now."

  Mom gave me a smile, took a drink of water, and replied with a shrug, "I saw the way he looked at you. That boy likes you, my sweet girl, so don't deny him!" She walked towards me and, instead of a hug, gave me a swat to my shoulder.

  I rolled my eyes but didn’t have time to hear the same speech that she’d been giving me over the last six months; she wants to see me get married and have kids before she goes to heaven. I kissed her cheek and headed for the door.

  During the drive to Rockford, I played the newest soundtrack to the latest Disney movie, because soundtracks to kids movies just made me happy. I began to think about what my mother said about Jimmy asking me out to dinner. I gripped the steering wheel, checked my blind spots, and made sure no annoying motorcyclist were harassing me. Jimmy had ruined this highway for me.

  I kept picturing what I would do if Jimmy did ask me out to dinner.

  He had been a little flirty with me since the night I babysat for him. First, out on the trampoline, then holding my hand longer than he needed to. Then, leaving those flowers at my house the first time. He brought more flowers, even though he says they were for my mom, I could see through that. All of these things had been run past Laney’s point of view and she agreed with me. It’s not just in my head; Jimmy's sending flirty signals.

  Especially after last night, when he stayed after to talk business but didn’t actually end up talking business. I saw through that the moment his text came through that morning, but my Mom was lonely and struggling with depression, so in the end, it really did work out. Still, it caused me to toss and turn all night about this working arrangement.

  Why was Jimmy so flirty if he was going to be my boss? Surely, he knew that we couldn’t date. Besides, right now, with my mom, all my time and focus had to be on her. Except for work, I needed the job in order to eat. I had to remind myself that Jimmy just apologized for being a total jerk, and I needed to transition into trust, not just throw it at him all at once. It felt too easy to like him and to allow his flirtatious nature to reel me in. I checked my odometer— eight more miles before I pulled into Jimmy's. I was supposed to arrive at nine to go through training, employee contact info, and bank deposit info; basically everything you’d normally do with a Human Resources person.

  I played back the conversation we had last night about Jimmy’s former wife and then what he said about his best friend. He had opened up, and in a big way. I paired what he had told me with what I overheard at the bar. The Brass. Jimmy the Fist. I didn't have all the details of his past, but from what I
did know, I was able to get bit of a clearer picture. He seemed like he had a few skeletons in the closet and definitely some baggage, all signs that I should stay the heck away from him. The early morning light nearly blinded me as I drew closer to my exit. I pulled the visor down and thought back to the sad look on Jimmy's face when he mentioned his mom's death.

  I felt that little part of me that wanted someone to share the burden of losing my own mother, reach out and try to grab on to Jimmy. That little part of me wanted to take solace in the fact that he had lost someone and managed to work through it. I wanted him to tell me how he did it, how he got through it, and then I wanted him to tell me he'd be there for me as I faced the same fate. All things I could never put on him or ask of him. But for just a brief moment in time, I wanted to.

  I hit my head back against the headrest and knew that I needed to stop trying to create scenarios in my head that would give me permission to say yes to dinner. That is, if he asked. I blinked my eyes closed and reopened them as I put my blinker on for my exit. This was going to be a long day. I decided that my answer would be no if Jimmy asked me to dinner. In fact, any romantic advances would be shut down and not encouraged, because I needed to be there for my mom.

  I pulled back into that same parking lot that I had last week. I looked at it now with fresh eyes, and without the sting of anger or frustration. I found Jimmy’s bike already parked, along with a few other cars. Worried that I was late, I double-checked my phone for the time, since the dash clock hadn't been updated since the last spring forward.

  Relieved that I was on time, I got out of the car and started towards the front entrance. I made my way to Jimmy’s door and knocked, but there was no answer. After a few seconds, I knocked again, and again I was met with silence. Frustrated, I opened the door and checked his small office space. Clear desk, clean, organized floor, but empty. Where was Jimmy?