Once Upon A Time

by S. K. Hartley

  Kate

  Opening the attachment, I grabbed a sticky note and wrote down the address and name of the prospective client. I noticed it merely said "Mr. Black." There was no first name or even an initial. I wrote down the address of his building, Black Enterprises. It was only thirty minutes from my apartment and I had to be there for 10am tomorrow morning. Simple enough.

  Looking up from my notes, I spotted a very excited Kylie.

  “What?” I asked. Why the hell was she looking at me like that?

  She paused before clapping her hands together like she’d just won a freaking medal. “COCKTAILS!”

  I balked. “No fucking way! I have to be completely sober for this meeting. I can’t roll up looking like I've spent the entire night sucking face with a sex on the beach.”

  Kylie shrugged as she pulled out her cell from her back pocket, furiously hitting the screen with her fingers. What the hell was she doing?

  As if she could read my thoughts, she answered. “Already texted Quinn. He’s in!”

  “Wait. What the fuck, Kylie. I just said I need to be freaking sober!” I might actually kill her.

  “And you may screw it up anyway and work for Starbucks. We need to celebrate. You've been trying to get Kate to notice how damn hard you work for the last three years! Now she’s given you a freaking client, let’s celebrate!” She smiled.

  Well, thanks for that, Kylie.

  “Woman, suck it up. We have some celebrating to do and there’s a cocktail with your name on it tonight.” With that, she left my freaking office with a hop, a skip and a jump.

  Well shit.

  Placing my arms on the desk in front of me, I threw my head on top. Surely the day couldn't be any more of a clusterfuck than it already was. Right?

  The sound of my emails clogging up my inbox pulled me out of my thoughts; I needed to get on with my day and worry about what the night would bring later. Opening up the first email, I groaned in frustration.

  “I love my job. I love my job. I love my job,” I chanted over and over before diving into my mailbox of hell.

  The minute my ass hit my sofa in my living room a couple of hours later, I was immediately hit full force with exhaustion. My usual hours at work were 9am while 5pm. Yeah, I hadn't worked those kind of hours since my first day. Apparently, leaving on time at Blue Stone PR was frowned upon. I checked the time and groaned; it was 7:30pm. I had approximately thirty minutes to get my ass in the shower and ready for a night of cocktails. I didn't want to go. In fact, I would rather soak in the tub for an hour before curling up in bed, not to mention I needed to be up early the next morning.

  Diving into my purse, which I’d unceremoniously thrown on the sofa next to me, I pulled out my cell, ready to call Kylie to let her know I was too tired to even think out leaving our apartment. But the moment I unlocked my cell, the apartment door swung open and in walked a very hot looking Kylie.

  Her chestnut hair was pulled into a low chignon on the back of her head and I wondered where the hell she’d gotten changed. I presumed she ran over to Quinn’s apartment. If anyone knew hair and makeup, it was those two. She looked at me like I’d grown three heads.

  “What the holy hell are you doing sitting there looking like a depressed Smurf?”

  Oh ha! That was supposed to be a joke about my blue pencil suit.

  Comedian she is not.

  I sighed hard, exaggerating my exhaustion with a limp shrug of my shoulders. “Just so we’re clear, I saved for three months for this suit.” I shook my head, throwing my feet up on the coffee table in front of me. “I’m too exhausted, Kylie. Seriously, Kate managed to throw at least seven different contracts at me that needed printing, proofing, and mailing out to the clients. Do you have any idea how many times I've had to deal with her ogre ass today? I swear, I thought I was about to blow a gasket every time she breathed near me. That shit’s not cool, Kylie.”

  “Mer!” She rolled her eyes, the weird noise leaving her lips making me chuckle. “This isn’t happening. I’m calling DEFCON 0!”

  Say what now?

  The sadistic smirk that quickly took over Kylie’s features not only confused me but scared the ever-loving shit out of me. What the hell was she planning? Pulling out her cell, she pressed a couple of buttons before placing it against her ear.

  “DEFCON 0!” she chimed into the phone.

  Now the only person I could think of that knew the best friend code was Quinn. I wasn't just scared, I was petrified.

  Kylie paused for a moment as I let my legs drop from the coffee table. She rolled her eyes as if irritated before balancing the phone between her ear and shoulder. Confusion must've been written all over my face as she chuckled at me before turning around and marching her ass into my bedroom, slamming the door shut behind her.

  Well shit.

  I was screwed.

  Standing from my position on the couch, I grabbed my purse and made my way to the bathroom. I needed to soak in the tub and there was no way in hell my crazy ass friends where dragging me out of it. Dumping my purse on the vanity, I turned on the hot water and made quick work of my "Smurf outfit."

  Turning to the mirror, I grabbed a handful of makeup remover wipes and went to town on the layer of makeup covering my face. Within minutes the water was ready and I was quickly soaking in bubbly bliss. But the moment my muscles relaxed, I was quickly jumping out of my skin, trying to cover the essentials - which is pretty damn hard if you have more than a handful of boobs – as Kylie swung open the bathroom door and stepped right inside with a smile on her face.

  Seriously? Did she have to smile like that while my boobs and vagina are all… hanging out like a mother's meeting?

  Kylie rolled her eyes as I stared at her open mouthed.

  I’m sorry, but I have an issue with women seeing my junk. Kylie may be my best friend but best friends don’t need a visual map of her best friend's cooter.

  “You’re such a prude, Payton Miller!” Kylie strutted further into the bathroom and crouched down beside the tub. She was eye level with my boobs. Totally not uncomfortable at all! “Quinn will be here in t-minus ten minutes to help turn you from Smurf to Smurfette.”

  So I resemble a little blue person? Awesome.

  “Kylie, I really don’t want to go out tonight. I’m exhausted.” I groaned, trying to use the bubbles to hide my nudity. “Anyway, don’t you have a major meeting with Phil tomorrow?”

  She chuckled softly, dipping her finger into the water. “Yup.” She smiled, making a popping sound on the P. “You'll be able to inform him of how much of a bad influence I am when we get to the bar. He just loves a good COCKtail.”

  That explains soooo much.

  “Come on, woman! We need to celebrate, it’s not every day you get a client handed to you on a plate from the woman who put P in PR.” She moaned, pulling her hand out of the tub, flicking water in my face.

  I groaned and quickly sunk beneath the water, promptly inhaling bubbles up my nose. With a cough and a splutter, I came back up to the surface, choking on the endless bubbles I had created. With a soft sigh I realized I really wasn't getting out of this.

  “Fine,” I grumbled, waving my hand at my white fluffy towel draped over the edge of the bathroom door, indicating for Kylie to grab it for me.

  “Yes!” Kylie fist pumped, handing me the towel.

  Standing from the water, I wrapped the towel around my body, mastering the skill of keeping my vagina out of Kylie’s eye line. With a deep sigh, I climbed out of the tub, chuckling softly as I watched Kylie roll her eyes before handing me a hair dryer and hair brush.

  “You have five minutes. Quinn is on his way. I'll be in your room looking for something for you to wear.” She beamed, swiftly turning on her heel and leaving the room.

  Oh hell.

  Shaking my head, my grasp tightened around the hair dryer and hair brush as I started going to work on my shoulder-length blonde hair.

  Once my hair was semi-dry, I made my way out of
the bathroom, padding across the hall to my room. I noticed my bedroom had been completely taken over by Kylie. It seemed she had literally gone into my closet and thrown everything I owned on the floor. Walking further into the room, I gaped at Kylie as she held up a dress I hadn't warn since high school. I didn't even know why I still had it.

  “Over my dead body,” I stated, eyeing the offending black mini dress.

  She twisted the dress in her hands, gazing down at it before turning back to me. “That can be arranged.” She winked.

  I groaned, pushing Kylie out of the way – with a little more enthusiasm than was needed – and poked my head into my closet, smiling as I noticed she hadn't pulled out the box on the top shelf. Moving to my tip-toes, I grabbed for the box and pulled it out. I moved to the bed, ignoring Kylie’s curious gaze as I placed it down and opened it.

  I felt Kylie step behind me, her head peering over my shoulder for a better look.

  “Oh! Is that?” Kylie gasped.

  “It is.” I smiled, reaching for the soft peach cocktail dress I had bought a while back. I wasn't sure why I had bought it, I had nowhere to wear it but the moment I saw it I fell in love with it. It was the most expensive piece of fabric I owned. “Do you think it'll be too much?”

  “I think—” Kylie started but was quickly cut off by the thudding sound of the apartment door slamming.

  “DEFCON 0? Really?! You girls are going to be the death of me!” Quinn said with an exaggerated flourish of his hands as he stepped into my bedroom. His gaze locked onto the dress within my hands, his eyes widening. “Oh my god! It’s perfect!”

  The squeal that came out of his mouth was enough to shatter glass. His fingers grazed the soft material. “Well?” He stared at me like I was freaking telepathic.

  “Well what?” I rolled my eyes.

  “Put the dress on! I need to see it.” He smiled, shooing me out of the room and back into the bathroom, but not before throwing my makeup bag at me. “Put your face on too. We need to get our asses on the road!”

  With a groan, I got to work, hoping like hell I wouldn't regret it in the morning.

  Thirty minutes, half a can of hairspray, a whole lot of boob adjusting and stomach sucking later, I was officially ready, according to Quinn at least.

  “Vogue should hire me.” He waved his hands in the air like it was sacrilege. “I mean, just look at the canvas I had.” He paused, spinning me around on the spot like I was fresh meat. “I turned you from frumpy Smurf to hot-as-hell-drop-down-your-boxers-and-screw-me Smurfette.”

  I cringed. What was the fascination with little blue people?

  I came to a quick standstill when I felt the urge to vomit from Quinn’s spinning. The moment I got my bearings, I stood with my mouth agape.

  “What do you mean 'look at the canvas I had'?!” I shrieked, shoving Quinn in the chest. Of course, he didn't move, only winked at my meek demonstration of strength. I threw my hands on my hips; even pissed at his canvas comment, I was intrigued to see what he had done.

  Rolling his eyes, Quinn grabbed me by the shoulders, thrusting me in front of my floor-length mirror. “Now...” He paused, giving me time to take in what I was looking at.

  My blonde hair had been styled in a way that would have cost me a good fortune at a hair salon. My hair finally had volume, a stark difference from the usual limp and lifeless mess on my head. My hands fell from my hips as I took in the flawless makeup. My bright blue eyes were framed with a smoky effect, created by Quinn with a dark grey eyeshadow. My cheeks had a shimmer of pink blush while my lips were coated with a thin layer of gloss. My gaze then descended down to the dress, the one I had bought with my very first official paycheck. It was stunning. The peach cocktail dress did everything to give me an hourglass silhouette and nothing to hide what I owned beneath it. The dress was short, so short I worried for anyone who stood behind me if I needed to bend down.

  “Tell me I’m not a freaking god,” Quinn finished, whispering in my ear. His gaze found mine in our reflections, a smile playing at his lips. “You look stunning, honey.”

  “Oh my shit, Pay!” Kylie squealed from the doorway, eyeing my dress. “You look so freaking hot right now!”

  I rolled my eyes. Kylie was the one with the looks. I was what you called average. Average boobs, average waist, average looks. Kylie, on the other hand, was more like a freaking siren. Her chestnut hair fell in flawless curls, delicately resting on her shoulders. Her makeup was minimal but enough to give her an edge. Her skin was a honey shade, offsetting perfectly against her mid-thigh black wrap dress.

  “You look hot, babe,” I said back. Of course, she didn't’t see her beauty like I did, like other men did. She shook her head, handing me a pair of heels.

  “What are these for?” I cringed at the sheer size of the heels. “No way am I walking in those.”

  I thrust the heels back at her only to receive a knowing look that said "if you don’t wear them I might throat punch you." I meekly pulled them back.

  “You'll be fine.” Her hands came to my shoulders, pushing me back onto my bed. “Foot.” I decided not to push my luck and gave her my left foot. “These have a platform on the bottom, so in theory they’re two and a half inches shorter than they look.”

  “I don’t think it works like that, sweetie.” Quinn chuckled as he added a coat of my gloss to his lips.

  “Hey!” I laughed, throwing the nearest thing I could find at his head, which happened to be a decorative cushion from my bed. “Paws off my makeup!”

  “Ooof.” Quinn spun on the spot, laughing as his eyes met mine. “If we didn't’t need to hurry our asses up, I would totally be tickling you right now.” He pointed, adding one more coat of gloss before smacking his lips and pouting.

  Oh god no. I hated being tickled. I usually snorted like a pig and it wasn't pretty.

  With a tap on my foot from Kylie, I was ready to go.

  I could only pray that I survived.

  “STOP IT!” KYLIE HISSED, batting my hand away from the offending hem line of my dress. “No one can see your vagina, leave it alone.”

  So, the peach dress? Yeah, bad idea. Even as we sat at the table of the cocktail bar I could feel eyes on my legs as I crossed and uncrossed them nervously. It wasn't like I was a total social misfit, more like I didn’t want everyone staring at me in case I fell on my face and showed everyone what I had hiding beneath my dress. Plus, I’d never live it down from Quinn.

  Knotting my hands in my lap, my gaze wandered the bar around us. Omega was a new upscale night club I’d never heard of. Of course, Kylie knew all about it so we had to go there. The walls were covered in a dark purple color, matching the purple lighting that illuminated the sleek black bar. The floor was an odd black color with flecks of what looked like silver confetti scattered within the sleek, polished floor. Around us were small seating booths. The place was like nothing I had ever seen before, it looked almost like a… futuristic fairy tale.

  I clearly needed more alcohol.

  “This place is amazing, woman!” Quinn squealed, throwing back another shot of… shit, I don’t even know but from the scent emanating from it I could at least say it was nothing short of rocket fuel. “How the hell did you get us in?” He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

  As far as I could tell, Omega was clearly pretty exclusive. You had to know at least a couple of high-ranking people to get in to a place like this. Although Kylie and I worked together, it was obvious she had been given many opportunities with some of Phil’s clients, giving her time to network with people you’d see in the weekly gossip magazines. Not to mention businessmen who could possibly own a place like this.

  “Phil got us in!” Kylie smiled, jumping from her seat. “Speak of the devil himself.”

  Turning in the direction which she was enthusiastically walking to, I noticed Phil. I must admit, it was kind of weird knowing we’d only gotten into an exclusive cocktail bar because of Kylie’s boss, not to mention how odd it was se
eing Phil in something other than his usual plain black suit.

  Phil was in his late thirties and had worked at Blue Stone PR for over five years. He was one of the more approachable account managers. His cropped brown hair and green eyes meant he stood out from the crowd.

  Phil embraced Kylie and I couldn't’t help but snort as he threw a wink over at Quinn. Quinn blushed. Oh hell. That was a whole kettle of fish I wasn't diving into.

  Phil joined us at the table, smiling at me warmly. I returned his smile, noticing the alcohol was going down far too well for my liking and I still wasn't comfortable in my short ass dress.

  “So I hear Kate gave you a client!” Phil smiled. It was clear Kylie had told him why we were out tonight, celebrating my don’t-fuck-it-up client from Shrek, my boss.

  I nodded, taking a large gulp of… ew. I had no idea what the hell I was drinking but it tasted like gasoline mixed with cold coffee and morning breath. Not that I’d know, obviously. “Yeah, I think I’m just as surprised as you guys.”

  Phil shrugged, leaning his arms on the table in front of him. “You must've done something right for her to give you the client, right?”

  I thought for a moment. Did she really give me a client because I had done something that didn't’t piss off the dragon lady? Then I remembered. Nope, she gave it to me because no one else could take it.

  “I don’t think so.” I decided what the hell and sucked back a more than a ladylike mouthful of the disgusting concoction. “She said everyone else had important clients to deal with tomorrow. I was the last resort.” I coughed as the liquid ran down my throat, holding back the gag.

  Phil paused for a moment, glancing over at Kylie for a second. What the hell was that?

  “Tell her,” Kylie encouraged, flicking her head in my direction with a knowing smirk on her face.

  I turned to Quinn, looking for some kind of clue as to what the hell they were talking about. He shrugged, although clearly interested in what was going on.

  “Honey, I don’t have any meetings tomorrow. In fact, half of the office will be on one of those dreary bonding sessions,” he said, rolling his eyes. “She gave it to you because you deserve it. She’s just too up her own ass implants to tell you that. You know as well as I do that a client comes before any kind of bonding session.”