by Hazel Kelly
“Jesus, really?” I asked. “The guy doesn’t waste any time.”
“My mom might still nix the whole thing, but if moving back home was her plan B, it’s looking less feasible all the time.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Don’t mention it to her,” he said. “I don’t want her to feel unsupported.”
“Of course not.”
“Speaking of support, how do you think she’s assimilating to city life?” he asked.
“Pretty well, I guess. She seems to like her roommate, and it sounds like the novelty value of her sardine-can apartment hasn’t worn off yet.”
“That’s good,” he said. “She hasn’t told me much besides that either, but sometimes I worry…”
“What?”
“I don’t know. She doesn’t tell me stuff like she used to, and she’s so vulnerable.”
I furrowed my brow. “What do you mean ‘vulnerable’?”
“I just worry that she’s liable to put herself under too much pressure. Or worse, that she’ll fall for the first idiot who’s nice to her.”
I swallowed.
“There are a lot of unscrupulous people in the city, as you know, and I don’t think she’s used to that.”
“She has to learn some time.”
“I know,” he said. “I just don’t want her to get taken advantage of by people with more experience. She’s already so guarded. If she gets hurt or—”
“She’s not going to get hurt,” I said. “I’m looking out for her.”
“I know, and that means a lot.”
“She’s well liked at the office, and her roommate’s been teaching her self-defense.”
“Yeah?”
“Apparently,” I said. “I mean, I don’t think she’s had to use it, but you and your folks should rest easy. She’s doing a fine job taking care of herself.”
“Good.”
“A better job than I’ve ever seen you do left to your own devices anyway.”
He laughed. “That isn’t saying much.”
“Speaking of which,” I said, desperate to change the subject. “How’s married life treating you?”
“It’s a lot like pre-married life, except Kelsey and I use the words husband and wife a lot more now.”
“So no regrets?”
“Fuck off. Of course not.”
“I suppose you knew what you were getting into.”
“I did, yeah,” he said. “There haven’t really been any surprises in that sense, but I have no idea how people get married without living together first.”
“Well, I’m glad you haven’t blown it yet.”
“Oh, I have,” he said. “At least six times.”
I raised my eyebrows.
“Fortunately, Kelsey’s a saint, though.”
I nodded. “She’s a keeper, all right. I just hope she still loves you when you let yourself go.”
“That’s not funny,” he said. “I literally just got back from the gym because the notches on my belt have made it apparent that sex alone isn’t enough to burn off all the cakes she makes.”
“Feel free to bring one of her cakes over here if you need help with it. My pants fit just fine.”
“Asshole.”
I smiled.
“We are overdue for drinks, though. Sorry I’ve been such a shitty friend since I got married.”
“Don’t worry about it. You were a shitty friend before that,” I lied, taking a sip of my beer.
“Someday you’ll understand,” he said. “Which reminds me, I heard you’re seeing someone.”
I nearly spat out my beer, but it went up my nose instead. “Pardon?” I asked, my eyes watering as the burn dissipated.
“I ran into a friend of yours earlier this week.”
“What friend?”
“The French guy, what’s his name?”
I squinted. “Christophe?”
“Yeah, he’s the one.”
“How did that happen?”
“I guess he went to college with one of the guys I work with,” Matt said. “They were having lunch in my building.”
“Uh-huh.”
“I couldn’t believe he remembered my name. That guy’s the savviest networker in the city as far as I can tell.”
I clenched my jaw. “Sometimes I think he’s a little too well connected. What did he say?”
“Nothing much. Just asked if I’d met your new girlfriend.”
I closed my eyes and pinched the bridge of my nose. “He doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”
“Aww, come on,” he said. “Since when does your random neighbor get the lowdown and I don’t?”
“There is no lowdown.”
“So there’s no hot blonde that can barely keep her tongue from hanging out of her mouth when you’re around?”
I started wondering how I might dispose of Christophe’s body after I killed him.
“Landon?”
“She’s just a friend,” I said. “I like the idea that she might be more someday, but nothing’s happened. Christophe’s just addicted to causing trouble and sticking his nose where it doesn’t belong.”
“I can’t believe I had to hear that shit from someone else.”
“Again, there’s no shit to hear.”
“Maybe not yet,” he said. “But it’s only a matter of time if you’re into her.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
“As if you need it. I can only recall you ever getting rejected once.”
“When?”
“By that lesbian in Paris,” he said.
“That doesn’t count.”
“Dude. That was the coldest rejection I’ve ever seen.”
I groaned.
“Not that I blame her. I bet French pussy tastes great.”
“I wouldn’t know, as you’ve so crudely pointed out. But if things don’t work out with Kelsey, I’d be happy to introduce you to Christophe’s little sister.”
“No thanks,” he said. “You know what I think of guys who go after their friends’ little sisters.”
My stomach dropped.
“Hi, honey,” he said so loudly I knew it wasn’t only for Kelsey’s benefit. “I’m just on the phone with Landon. He’s in love.”
I fell back and slumped on the couch.
“I know, I know,” he said in answer to her voice. “I saw your note. It’s in the oven… I don’t know, check the timer.”
“I gotta go, man.”
“Kelsey says you should bring your lady friend to dinner.”
“That’s very kind,” I said. “I’ll be in touch.”
“Good. ’Cause I don’t want to have to go to Christophe to get my information.”
“Goodnight, Matt.”
“Ciao, buddy.”
“Oh, and Matt?”
“Yeah?”
“Try to sound a little less pussy-whipped next time I call. It’s not a good look for you.”
“Nor is jealousy for you,” he said.
And then he hung up, not exactly none the wiser, but not clued in enough for me to fret about my health.
Christophe’s health, on the other hand, was about to take a turn for the worse.
T W E N T Y O N E
- Margot -
“You wanted to see me?” I asked as I poked my head in my boss’s office.
Mr. Hancock lifted his head from his desk. “Margot, yes. Please come in.”
I closed the door behind me and walked across the slate-gray carpet towards the chair opposite his desk. He kept his eyes on a stapled bunch of papers in front of him for the next two minutes, completely ignoring me. I might’ve been offended if I wasn’t already used to his constant shows of superiority.
“Now,” he said, clasping his hands over the top part of his belly and leaning back in his chair. “Did Landon tell you the good news yet?”
I shook my head.
“The Fujama people want to go ahead. Not only on the commercial cam
paign, but they’d like us to pursue a deal with the major international airlines to see if they can get their print campaign flying the friendly skies.”
I raised my eyebrows.
“Which I think is a fantastic idea since their products are sold in so many duty-free tech stores.”
I squinted at him. Had they pretended that was their idea?
“Unfortunately, they put me in a bit of an awkward spot because they asked specifically for you and Landon to implement their campaign.”
“They did?”
“I’m not sure how you managed to impress them so much as an intern, but it’s a first around here, I assure you.”
I squeezed my knees together to keep from bouncing in my chair. “I’m glad I didn’t let the agency down.”
“You certainly didn’t,” he said, smoothing his salt and pepper brows. “Which is why I have to make sure we don’t let you down either.”
I straightened in my chair.
“I know you still have a month left of your contract,” he said. “But I think the only way to proceed is to offer you a full-time position.”
“That’s great news, sir.”
“I think so, too,” he said, patting his desk. “I’ll let everyone know you’ll be joining the team at the staff meeting later this week.”
“Cool,” I said, wishing immediately that I’d chosen a different word.
“In the meantime, set up an appointment with Deedee. She’ll go over a revised contract with you and make sure you understand the salary and benefits you’ll be entitled to, starting next Monday.”
“Certainly.”
He nodded once. “I look forward to profiting from many more of your ideas, Margot. Something tells me you have a bright future to look forward to here.”
“Thanks.”
“That will be all.”
I stood up and left the room, wishing him a good day on the way out before heading straight to the office of the one person I was most excited to share the news with.
“Is Landon in?” I asked, trying to hide my unprofessional enthusiasm from his assistant.
Her fingers continued dancing across her keyboard as she answered me. “He’s just back from lunch,” she said, not looking up. “You can go on in.”
I knocked and waited, entering only after he invited me in.
“Hi,” he said, acknowledging me less warmly than I’d hoped before turning back to the waist-high file cabinet he was thumbing through.
“You’ll never believe it,” I said, closing the door and clasping my hands in front of me.
He pulled a folder out and slid the heavy drawer back into place. “What?”
“Not only did we land the Fujama campaign, but they asked for us by name.”
“I know,” he said, walking behind his desk. “Dick told me this morning.”
I rocked up on my toes. “Did he also tell you that he was going to offer me a full-time position?”
He lifted his face and stared at me. “No. He didn’t mention that.”
“Well, he just did two seconds ago.”
He smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Congratulations.”
“I thought you’d be happy for me,” I said, my chest deflating.
“I am happy for you,” he said. “You worked hard, and you deserve to be recognized for it.”
I narrowed my eyes at him.
He sat down and scooted his chair towards his desk. “What else do you want me to say?”
I thought he’d give me a hug or a kiss or spin me around his office a little. It sounded stupid in my head when I thought it, but his aloofness was unexpected.
“What’s going on with you?” I asked, walking up to his desk. “Why have you been so weird to me this week?”
“I haven’t been weird,” he said. “I’ve just been busy.”
I pressed my lips together.
“I know I got carried away after the Fujama meeting, but I shouldn’t have,” he said. “It was extremely unprofessional of me to take advantage of the situation like that.”
“What? You didn’t take advantage—”
“Especially now when we both have so much to lose.”
I shook my head. “But—”
“It’s nothing personal,” he said. “I just—I’m supposed to be looking out for you, not distracting you from what you came here to do.”
“I don’t understand. What about the strawberries and the sorrys and the asking me out?”
“All things best kept outside the office,” he said, his voice stern.
He wasn’t telling me everything. Something was going on, but I couldn’t quite figure out what it was…or why he was acting so standoffish.
“Did Matt say something to you?” I asked. “I know you guys talked. Did he say something to—”
“Look, Margot. I’m pretty swamped today.” His eyes swept the papers strewn across his desk. “Do you think we could have this conversation another time?”
I cocked my head. “Like over dinner?”
“Sure.” He started organizing the papers in front of him. “Whatever.”
“Whatever?”
He raised his eyes to mine.
“When?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “Maybe next week. I’m working late all week this week so—”
“Do you need help with anything?”
“Yeah. I need you to respect the fact that I’m too busy to waste time flirting with you during office hours.”
How dare he say that to me! How dare he treat me like some inconsequential crush. “Do you have PMS or something?” I asked. “Because all these mixed signals are pretty fucked up.”
“If you’re getting mixed signals, then you’re the one doing the mixing,” he said. “I think I’ve made it perfectly clear that I’ve got stuff on my mind right now.”
My face fell. “You always do this.”
“Do what?”
“Freak out when shit gets real.”
He scoffed. “I do no such thing.”
“Yes, you do. As soon as our relationship takes a small step forward, you take a big step back. For as long as I can remember.”
“Maybe you should do the same. You’ve got more reasons to than ever.”
I leaned over his desk. “Name one.”
“If you’ll excuse me,” he said, picking up the phone. “I’ve got a job to get on with.”
I watched him dial a number and sift through his papers again, wondering for the first time ever what it would be like to slap him across the face.
F L A S H B A C K
- Landon -
Matt made faces at his phone for twenty minutes before announcing that he was going upstairs to call his girlfriend because the reception in his basement was shit.
I kept my eyes on the video game in front of me in an effort to ignore his relationship drama and procrastinate doing the college applications stacked in front of me.
Meanwhile, Margot pretended to make flashcards on the couch beside me, though I got the sense that she was spending far more time studying my hands as I swatted the control stick and tapped the A/B buttons so I wouldn’t get murdered by terrorists.
I wasn’t sure why she was doing it. The scars on my hands were practically invisible at that point. Still, while it made me feel a little self-conscious, I didn’t want to call her out and make her feel awkward.
After all, I liked the feel of her curious eyes on me. Probably too much.
“I don’t know what he could possibly have to talk to her about,” she said, scribbling on an index card before flipping it over. “He texted her more words in the last ten minutes than I’ve heard him say all week.”
She closed her book around the stack of cards and huffed as she set it on the couch beside her.
I did my best to ignore the smooth thighs that stuck out from her little track shorts.
“Do you like her?” she asked. “His new girlfriend?”
I shrugged and hid behind a virt
ual army tank. “I like that she makes him happy.”
She let her closest thigh fall against my leg.
I blew up a second later and blood poured down the screen.
“Sorry,” she said.
I tossed the controller where Matt had been sitting and leaned back, clasping my hands behind my head. “Don’t be. I’m too old to play this anyway. I’m just procrastinating.”
She looked between me and the pile of applications. “Where do you want to go?” she asked, angling her body towards me.
“I’m not sure yet. Depends on if I get into Pitt. I’d be happy with Boston, too, though. As long as I get in somewhere really…”
“You will,” she said with a confidence I wished I shared.
I sighed.
She draped her nearest leg over mine so the pale flesh of her inner thigh lay across my lap.
I looked down at it, trying to think instead of feel.
“What would you like to do?” she asked, her voice softer.
I turned my face towards hers, keeping my hands as far away from her leg as possible even though her shorts were so short it would be easy to reach under them and… I swallowed my audible heartbeat. “Are we still talking about college?”
She fixed her blue eyes on mine and shook her head, tying my stomach in knots.
“Margot,” I said, my voice more breathless than I intended. “You’re sixteen.”
“So?”
“I’m going to be eighteen in two weeks.”
She shrugged, and the thin strap of the white bra under her tank top fell down over her shoulder. “Age is just a number.”
“Not when you’re under eighteen, it’s not.”
“Please,” she whispered. “All I want is to feel your hands on me.”
Fuck. “It’s not that simple,” I said, trying to focus on all the reasons I couldn’t just reach over and touch her. From Matt’s trust in me to his parents’ generosity, taking advantage of her was so far from being an option it wasn’t funny. But mostly I was worried about the floodgates it might open, about the fact that I didn’t think I’d be able to stop once I started.
I’d cared about her for way too long to put my hands on her and walk away. Did she know that? Was that why she was making it sound so simple, why she was making the stakes sound so low?
She pulled one of my arms down and placed it so my fingers draped across her inner thigh. Her breath grew shallow at my touch.
