Knocked Up- The Complete Box Set

by Lilian Monroe

  “We’ll find him on Facebook. What did you say his job was?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “What’s his last name?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Where does he live? Do you know any specifics besides Los Angeles?”

  “I don’t know!” I snap. “I don’t know anything about him! I know his name is Lucas and he lives in Los Angeles. I know he likes wine.”

  I sigh. I rack my memory, trying to think of other things. We talked about everything and nothing, about life and happiness and sex but somehow I don’t seem to know a single thing about him. Jess puts her hand on my thigh.

  “We’ll find him,” she says gently. “Don’t worry.”

  I look over at her and smile. Her dark brown hair is pulled up into a messy bun and she pushes her dark-rimmed glasses up her nose. She smiles at me and nods. “We’ll find him.”

  “Okay,” I respond with a sigh. “You’re right. No use getting all upset. It’s just… why didn’t I save his number right away! I always lose things! It’s so stupid! The one time I meet someone I actually like. The first time in months I feel comfortable around a man!”

  “Don’t beat yourself up about it, Rosie. It happens all the time to everyone. And it was only a scrap of paper. I’d be more surprised if you hadn’t lost it!”

  I smile. I know she’s only trying to make me feel better but it’s working despite my best efforts to be grumpy.

  “Come on,” Jess says as she gets up off my bed. “Let’s go do something to make us feel better. We’ll get a pedicure and we can start our Facebook stalking while we’re there. By the end of it all you’ll have sent him a text and you’ll have pretty toes. Win-win.”

  “That sounds nice.”

  The two of us get up and Jess gives me a hug. I’m so mad at myself, but I try to forget it as we head to our favorite nail salon. I’m starting to feel hopeful as we sit down and start getting our feet scrubbed and clipped and painted. Jess makes me laugh as we start looking online, searching every possible combination and looking through profile after profile.

  My heart starts to sink as Jess shows me yet another Lucas from Los Angeles that isn’t my Lucas from Los Angeles. I shake my head and Jess purses her lips.

  “Let’s widen our search. We don’t even know if this guy is on Facebook! He could be one of those private people. Which,” she glances at me. “Red flag, am I right?” I roll my eyes and laugh. Jess continues: "How about LinkedIn? You said he had files and a bag? He talked about work? Surely he’s got LinkedIn. Even old people in the workforce have LinkedIn. My uncle Bert has LinkedIn.”

  I nod, but it’s starting to feel hopeless. We’ve been looking for him online for over an hour. Jess can find anybody within minutes if you give her their hair color and their cousin’s brother’s name. She’s a wizard at looking for people on social media and she’s coming up empty.

  “I’m starting to wonder if he even exists at all,” I say as I start scrolling through profile after profile. “Maybe it was all a dream.”

  “Maybe,” Jess says absent-mindedly. “It wasn’t him was it?”

  She turns her phone towards me and I see an overweight old man who’s got to be at least 70. He’s holding a rubber chicken in one hand and a beer in the other. I laugh.

  “No, not him.”

  “Shame. I was going to high-five you. Might give old Lucas Miller here a message.” She shakes her head. “Imagine having that as your LinkedIn profile picture!! Has this guy ever had a job?!”

  “Maybe in 1929,” I respond with a grin.

  Jess laughs and nods at my toes. “Looking good! I love that color.”

  I glance down at the bright coral pink on my toes. “Thanks. Thought I’d branch out a bit. New year new me kind of thing.”

  “Post orgasm pedicure,” she responds.

  I can’t help but laugh. Even though we haven’t found Lucas, I’m glad I have a good friend here next to me. She reaches over and puts her hand on my forearm.

  “We’ll find him,” she says gently, as if she read my mind. My throat starts to close up and I struggle to swallow. I can only nod my head and she winks at me before turning to her own toes. She’s chosen a jet black color and she wiggles them proudly.

  “Dark, just like my soul,” she says.

  I laugh and shake my head. “Far from it, Jess. You’re a good egg.”

  “A good egg with goth toes,” she replies. “Let’s get a manicure as well. I need a break from all that Googling. It’s hard work! I can have goth fingers as well, and then no one will know I have a heart.”

  I laugh and nod my head. “Fine,” I reply with a smile. She winks at me and once again I’m grateful to have her.

  15

  Lucas

  As the days went by I stopped checking my phone. The days turned into weeks and her silence went from a deafening roar to a dull ache inside me and now a distant memory. I didn’t know that I could care so much about a woman I knew for only a few hours, but the connection we had was different.

  At least, I thought it was. It was different for me, but obviously it wasn’t for her. She said she hadn’t been with a man in months and she played the part of a nervous, innocent young woman very well. It was obviously all an act. My bitterness has faded now, or at least it’s dulled a bit.

  Life went on. Allie is doing well at school, the launch was successful, I’ve been promoted at work. I’m now the managing agent for seventeen of the top twenty singers currently on the pop charts. Maybe if I prove myself I’ll be able to get the Assistant Director’s position. I’ve already told my boss Linda that I’m sick of all the travel. Life is good, or at least it should be.

  I haven’t thought of her in a while, until I’m walking down Melrose Avenue and I see a woman walking in front of me with the same curly red hair, the same tall willowy figure. My heart skips a beat. Why would she be in Los Angeles? Surely it’s not her. I find myself speeding up, trying to catch up to her. My feet take me closer and closer and her name is on my lips. I open my mouth, ready to call out to her just as she turns around.

  My heart jumps and I reach out, the smile already breaking across my face. Her head turns and all my hopes fall away.

  It’s not her. Our eyes meet for an instant and I see her frowning slightly. I look away, trying to shuffle past her without her noticing my disappointment. The woman is beautiful and young, maybe an aspiring actress, but she’s not Rosie. My heart drops and I shake my head, sighing loudly.

  Of course it isn’t her. What would she be doing here? Wandering the streets of Los Angeles hoping to run into me?? And even if it was her, why should I be happy!? I should be mad at her, upset that she ignored me. Her silence should tell it all—she doesn’t want anything to do with me.

  What would I even say to her? Would I try to be cordial, to have polite conversation? Should I get mad at her and let her know that I waited for her to call for days, no, weeks?

  I feel like an idiot.

  I stomp down the street without looking back at the woman that isn’t Rosie. I don’t want to see another red-haired woman again. They’ve lost their appeal to me.

  Truthfully, all women have. I don’t go out, I don’t notice the appeal to any of the glamorous, rich, successful artists that I manage. I don’t see any of it. It feels exactly like when my wife died. Life seems just a little bit more pointless, a little bit more empty.

  I knew this woman for one night. Get a fucking grip.

  I’m just stressed. It’s work, I tell myself. I’m just focusing on Allie, and on work. Those are the important things, not a one night stand I had when I was on a business trip.

  Still, sometimes I find my thoughts drifting back to that night. The way her body tasted, the way she looked in the dim light, the way her laugh would ring out and I couldn’t help but smile. I had so many questions for her. Where was she from? What did she do? How did she get those scars? What was her favorite food? Favorite music? Favorite movie?

&n
bsp; One night. That’s all I had. I didn’t ask any of it, but I still feel like I know her.

  After that night my whole mindset changed. I don’t see anything except Allie, and work. Work and Allie. Allie and work. It’s better this way. I can focus. There aren’t any distractions.

  I hail a cab and smile as I sit down, thinking of the way we met. I tell the cab driver the address of my office and he grunts in response before pressing on the accelerator. I push the thought out of my mind and sigh. Rosie is gone, and I have to put her out of my mind for good.

  The moment I step out of the elevator and into our offices, I’m hit with a barrage of voices.

  “Lucas! Lucas! Did you hear?”

  “Hey, Jake, what’s up?” I ask, shuffling my bag off and dropping it on a table.

  “McKinley and Lee, they’ve closed down!” My heart stops for the second time today. All the blood drains from my face and I turn to my second-in-command.

  “What?!”

  “They’ve closed down. It’s shocked us all! They just shut their doors and have liquidated their business. We’ve been trying to get Max on the phone but it’s disconnected. They’re saying he’s left the country!”

  My hand flies up to my forehead and I run my fingers through my hair. I blow all the air out of my lungs and look at Jake, shaking my head.

  “What?”

  It’s all I can manage to say. He lifts his shoulders up and lets them drop back down. “What are we going to do? We have seventeen active campaigns!”

  This is disastrous. We’ll drop off the charts and lose millions if we can’t keep pushing the artists’ advertising campaigns. Max’s agency was the biggest on the East coast, and now it’s just gone?!?

  “I’ve compiled a list of alternative agencies,” Jake responds, producing a paper. “The one at the top would be my choice. They got a new CEO,” he glances at the paper, “ uh, Zach Lockwood, he took over a few years ago. He’s turned it around and it was giving McKinley and Lee a run for their money. They’ll be the new big hitter in the market.”

  I grab the paper and scan the names. All the other agencies are second-rate, at best.

  “Get me a flight. And get me Lockwood on the phone!” I call out, heading towards my office. “I’m going to New York.”

  I close the door to my office and slump down on my chair. My head is spinning. Maybe Rosie wasn’t in Los Angeles this morning but I’ll sure as hell be in New York by tomorrow.

  16

  Rosie

  Two little blue lines. The second one is faint, but it’s there. I’m still sitting on the toilet, pants around my ankles, staring at those two little blue lines. The harder I stare the darker they seem to get, taunting me.

  I bring a hand to my stomach and look down. I knew something was wrong but pregnant?! Me?!

  The only time I’ve had sex was with Lucas! And we used protection! Sure, the condom slipped off the first time after we were done and I wasn’t exactly careful the second time before we started but surely that can’t lead to pregnancy!? Maybe it was defective.

  I stare at the two little blue lines again. They’re still there, still taunting me.

  I’m pulled out of my thoughts when someone barges into the work bathroom. It’s Harper.

  “Rosie!” She calls out, breathless. “Rosie!”

  “In here,” I say, putting the pregnancy test on top of the toilet roll holder and pulling up my pants. “One sec.”

  “Rosie, since McKinley and Lee have closed down we’re getting calls left right and center. Do you still have those drafts of the campaigns you showed me a few weeks ago?”

  I frown. “The ones I did because I thought their campaigns were garbage? For the pop stars?”

  “Yes! Get this! We’ve just gotten a call from the managing agent for seventeen of the top twenty charting artists. They want to move their whole portfolio over.”

  I open the stall door, frowning. “There’s no way we can handle that kind of workload!”

  “If you still have all that work done we can! You basically created full draft campaigns for multiple artists! Rosie! Zach said if they’re good, he’ll put you in charge of the whole portfolio!”

  My head is spinning. I see Harper’s eyes flick to the top of the toilet roll holder and then back to me. Her eyes widen until I can see the whites all around her irises.

  “Rosie…” she breathes.

  I grab the pregnancy test and hold it up for her to see. “My birthday,” I explain. She takes it in her hand and stares at the two little blue lines, just like I did.

  “Sometimes the tests are defective,” she says, shaking her head. “Take another one tomorrow.”

  “It’s the fourth one I’ve taken. I’ve already spent almost $50. Harper, I’m pregnant.”

  Harper’s mouth hangs open. She shakes her head.

  “No, Rosie, that’s not supposed to happen!” She looks at me, mouth agape. “I’m the one who had a surprise pregnancy! Not you! You’re the smart one!”

  “We used protection, I don’t know what happened.”

  I take the test back and stare at it again. I walk to the garbage can and toss it away. I turn back to Harper.

  “I’ve got like seven months to figure that out. When is this agent coming? At least if I have a shitload of work to focus on I won’t panic.” I pause. Harper’s face is drawn with concern. “…Yet. I won’t panic yet.”

  A smile breaks on her face and she extends her arms. I walk towards her and she hugs me tightly, cooing and whispering in my ear.

  “It’ll be okay,” she says. “I’m here, and I’ve been through it all. It’ll be okay.”

  It’s hard to believe her but it’s still comforting to hear the words. She squeezes me a bit tighter and then pulls away, putting her hands on my upper arms. She gives them a squeeze and looks at me with tears in her eyes.

  “This probably isn’t what you want to hear, but having Mary was the best thing that ever happened to me. I never wanted kids and now I’m happier than I’ve ever been.”

  I smile sadly. Harper is married to the CEO, Zach Lockwood. She’s had a baby and a wedding and met her soulmate. Somehow being a single mother struggling on one salary doesn’t really seem like the same thing, but I hold my tongue. All I can do is force a smile and nod. I blink back the tears in my eyes and try to ignore the prickling in my eyelids.

  Harper hugs me again and I let a tear fall down before pulling away and turning to the mirror to fix my makeup.

  “Okay, so what are the artists?” I say a little bit louder. “I have draft campaigns for six of them but they can be adjusted pretty easily. I think hitting social media harder than McKinley and Lee were is going to be more effective. We need to go where the customers are.”

  “Definitely. Don’t tell me, tell the agent. He’s landing in New York tonight and wants a meeting first thing tomorrow morning. Can you have a deck ready for 7am? Just two of your best campaigns, updated for current singles and albums.” Harper opens the bathroom door and we step out. “We’ll want to make the transition to our campaign as seamless as possible so you’ll have to explain how that will work, and how we’ll scale up the social media and scale down the traditional advertising.”

  “Right.” I pause. “Harper, I’ve never done this before. You know, lead something this big.”

  Harper stops and turns towards me, smiling. “You’re talented and confident and hard-working. Zach wouldn’t give this to you if he didn’t think you could do it. If I didn’t think you could do it. You’ve already done all the work and now you just need to show it off. And like you said, it’ll get your mind off the other thing.”

  I nod and take a deep breath. The strength inside me grows a little and I stand up straighter.

  “You’re right. Okay, I’ll have it ready for 7am.”

  “I’ve called a sitter so I’ll stay as long as you need me tonight. We have the rest of the team working on the financials and the bones of the proposal, but we need your content an
d your creative direction.

  I nod again and start walking to my desk. The pregnancy test is gone for now at the bottom of the garbage can. Between now and tomorrow morning I won’t think of the baby growing inside me. I won’t think of Lucas, or single motherhood, or diapers or cribs or anything except delivering this advertising campaign as well as I can.

  Harper’s right, this is a blessing in disguise. I get to my desk and glance up to see Harper looking at me from across the room. She smiles slightly and dips her chin down. I nod as well and can’t help but smile back. This is what I’m good at.

  17

  Lucas

  The wheels touch down and my heart jumps. I try to ignore the image in my head—the image of Rosie in front of me with her head back as I kiss her body from head to toe. I’ve seen it in my mind’s eye almost every day for the past two months.

  I’m back.

  I know I won’t see her—New York is a city of eight and a half million people. It was already blind luck to run into her once, it won’t happen again.

  Besides, it’s better this way. What would I even say to her? Show up at her house and just say: Got the message, you want nothing to do with me. Or maybe I’d pretend like nothing happened. Hey! What’s up?

  There’s no point thinking like this. I won’t see her, so it’s a waste of time anyways.

  I have bigger things to worry about. My client’s success and future hangs in the balance and is completely dependent on the deals I can negotiate with Lockwood’s firm. They must know that I need them. They’ll be able to charge me whatever they want and I’ll have to accept. All I can do is use the fame of my clients and bluff my way through these meetings.

  I make my way off the plane and I feel no less nervous than I did when I left LA. The next few days are critical for not only my clients but for my own career. I’m thinking about Rosie, and worried about what hypothetical me would say when I hypothetically run into her when the bigger problem is what I’ll actually say when I’m locked in negotiations for the next three days.