by M. Ullrich
Heads up. Baxter is fuming, and we’re heading back to the office now.
Lauren looked at the clock and calculated the ride and afternoon traffic. She had about twenty-five minutes to mentally prepare for her boss’s arrival. She typed out a response. Thanks for the warning. What is it this time?
Sally’s reply was immediate. You.
“Fuck,” Lauren said quietly to herself. She’d worked diligently and was obedient as far back as she could remember. She had been keeping her head down and herself out of Mr. Baxter’s way since the last time he lectured her. She had absolutely no idea what she could’ve done, or not done, this time.
After taking a deep breath, Lauren rushed about and made sure everything was where it needed to be. She’d reached the stage of self-preservation that enabled her to clean and organize at an impressively fast pace. She had boxes full, evidence together, and files put away just as the door to the building swung open.
“Sally, call the necessary parties and sort through today’s notes. Make sense of them and rewrite everything in a more legible manner,” Mr. Baxter barked as he walked in with Sally four steps behind him. “You,” he said with a finger pointing at Lauren, “start packing your things. You’re done here.”
“Whoa. What?” Lauren’s mouth hung open as she looked between Sally and Mr. Baxter, who was advancing toward his office at a much faster pace than she thought possible. “Sally, what the hell is going on?”
Sally looked at her with sympathetic eyes. “I think we confused our schedules again.”
Mr. Baxter reappeared with an empty cardboard file box. “When I tell you you’re to appear in court with me, I expect you to be there.”
She slowly realized Mr. Baxter forgot which paralegal he had assigned to court duty that day, again. And he was blaming Lauren, again. “Mr. Baxter, with all due respect, I wasn’t scheduled for court today.” Lauren walked to find her phone to pull up any schedule she had saved in her phone, but was stopped short when Mr. Baxter continued to yell.
“Pack your things. I want you out of here in the next hour.”
Panic flooded Lauren’s chest. She needed to work, and she really didn’t need a termination on her employment record. “Sally…” Lauren looked to her friend desperately.
“I’m certain I was scheduled for court today, Mr. Baxter,” Sally said timidly.
“Get to work on those notes. Unless you want to follow Lauren out the door.” Mr. Baxter left after his final threat.
“Lauren, I’m so sorry.”
Lauren held up her hand to stop Sally from coming near her. She was barely holding herself together as it was. One ounce of pity would push her over the edge. “I’ll be okay,” she said without believing the words herself. “I’ll talk to him.”
After a futile talk, she walked out of the law firm less than twenty minutes later with one box containing what few personal items she had brought into the office. Lauren stared at the darkening sky once she got into her car. She had no idea what would come next. She checked her phone and scrolled through her contacts in search of college friends who could possibly hook her up with a new job, but they were all people she never spoke to anymore. She came upon Jorge’s name and her chest tightened. What would she tell him? What if she couldn’t get another job quickly? He relied on her income. They relied on each other. The last bit of Lauren’s control slipped away from her emotions. Lauren started to cry, feeling hopeless and helpless, and petrified to go home.
* * *
Because of Lou, Berit had just dropped and broken a glass for the first time since the Dollhouse had opened. She’d kept to herself since meeting up with Lauren, so when Lou snuck up behind her on a busy Monday night and asked how her coffee date went, Berit lost her grip. She huffed at the small pile of glass and grabbed a small dustpan and brush tucked underneath the bar.
“Wow,” Lou said, shaking her head and watching Berit clean up. “Was it that good?”
“Grab me another glass and get back to work.” She hadn’t meant to sound so curt, but people were lining up for drinks and she didn’t want them looking at her foul-up. “I’m making a Cosmo for the woman on the end. The two beside her were next.”
“I’ll take that as a no.” Lou grabbed a towel off the counter, purposely smacking Berit in the side of the head along the way.
Berit watched Lou storm away. “It’s only a glass,” she told herself as she went about preparing a Cosmopolitan.
“What’s the matter, Berit? Leave all your Tom Cruise moves at home tonight?” a young woman Berit recognized as a regular said from across the bar.
Berit shot her a charming smile and said, “The night’s still young.” She winked and delivered the Cosmo with an apology. Berit double-checked the floor for any stray glass before wandering toward the back. She caught Dee’s attention and asked her to cover the bar for fifteen minutes. She needed fresh air.
When Berit stepped out onto the small back patio of the Dollhouse, she felt the promise of a hot summer brush against her skin. The air was slightly humid, and she heard the telltale chirp of insects over the murmuring of her patrons. A lightning bug lit up in the distance. Berit adored summertime, not because it was her busiest season, but because the whole world seemed more alive. She felt more alive. She jumped and turned around as hands gripped her shoulders.
“Jesus, Lou, you nearly gave me a heart attack.” She gripped her chest with her right hand, her heart beating hard and rapidly.
Lou was clearly proud of herself. “I’m a little sorry. You probably thought I was one of your groupies.”
“I do not have groupies, and who’s watching the bar?” Berit looked around Lou, but Lou stepped in front of her, blocking her view. “Move,” Berit said in her best demanding tone.
“The bar is under control. I wanted a minute to check in with my sis. We can take a break at the same time,” Lou said reassuringly. “The place won’t fall apart, I promise. Sit and tell me about your coffee date.”
Berit followed Lou over to a small table on the corner of the patio where she had a clear view of the bar in case more people came in. “There’s not much to tell. We were just two friends having coffee.”
Lou stared at her blankly. “She was serious about the friendship thing?”
Berit nodded.
“I think, as your sister, I should poke fun at you, but I didn’t think this day would ever come.”
“Shut up. We had a great time together, and Hugo really liked her. Maybe meeting a woman and just being her friend will be good for me.” Berit cracked her knuckles and lost herself in the satisfying pop. “She’s going to stop by Friday night, and we’re going to establish her type.”
“Her type?”
“Yeah. I’m going to help her find a girlfriend.”
Lou laughed.
“What?” Berit said.
“Nothing, that’s just an interesting turn of events.”
“Well, I know a lot of women, and not all intimately, right?”
“Most, but not all.”
Berit glared at her sister. “So I offered to help her find someone,” she said with a shrug. “I’ve been trying to think of a good candidate, but it’s hard when you don’t know what the other person is into.”
Lou’s mouth turned into a devilish smirk. “We know what she’s obviously not into.” She pointed her finger at Berit.
“Really, Lou, feel free to shut up at any time.”
“Hey, boss,” Dee called from the open patio door, twisting a dish towel nervously in her husky hands. Berit noticed her unease immediately. “You’re needed up front.”
Berit looked toward the bar and didn’t notice a crowd or commotion, so she didn’t stand right away. “What’s up?”
“Uh, there’s a woman here asking for you. She’s in pretty bad shape. We tried to calm her down but couldn’t.”
“Did you get a name? Does she look familiar?”
Dee looked at a loss. She held her hands up and said, “No, maybe?�
�
“Great,” Berit groused. She walked into the bar with her head held high, preparing herself for any scenario. But she couldn’t move once she saw a disheveled-looking Lauren at the bar, tearstains on her face. Her heart sank.
She rushed to her and gently took hold of her elbow. She led her to her office without a word, sat her in a chair, and knelt before her. “Lauren, what happened?” Berit felt an odd, protective instinct kick in. She cared for all of her friends fiercely and deeply, but she barely knew Lauren. “Talk to me, please.”
Lauren’s dark eyes swam beneath heavy tears. She opened her mouth, but no words came out. She shook her head and continued to cry. “It’s okay.” Berit reached out to place her hand on Lauren’s knee but stopped, unsure whether Lauren liked being touched when upset or at all. “Tell me when you’re ready.”
Lauren sucked in a deep breath and wiped at her face roughly, streaking her eyeliner across her face. Her navy blue blouse was untucked and wrinkled, and her khaki pants had dark spots where her tears had fallen. “I got fired,” Lauren squeaked out.
It took Berit a minute to even understand the quiet words. Her eyes went wide. “You got fired? Why? What happened?” Berit winced when Lauren started to cry harder. She backtracked and decided to start with the basics. “Tell me about your job.” She reached around Lauren and grabbed a pile of bar napkins from a shelf. They weren’t as soft as tissues, but they’d work.
Lauren blew her nose and looked at Berit sadly. “I was a paralegal with a law firm in town. The least popular paralegal in the building, apparently.”
“And what happened today?”
“My boss, Mr. Baxter, had a bad habit of forgetting what tasks he assigned to whom. Usually we could easily work around that, but today the other paralegal, Sally, showed up in court with him, and he thought he had told me to appear. I tried to tell him, but all he heard was me blaming him for my unprofessional attitude and fired me.”
Berit could think of a few select, colorful names to call this Baxter guy, but she’d save them for later. This time she dared to place her hand on Lauren’s. “Did Sally say anything?”
“Kinda. She tried to defend me and explain the mix-up, but Mr. Baxter wouldn’t hear it, and he dismissed her. She wasn’t there for the rest of the conversation, so she can’t be a witness to how he twisted my words.” She looked at Berit with worried, wet eyes. “I can’t not work, Berit, and no one will hire me on the spot.”
“What about unemployment?”
“I doubt I’ll qualify because of his side of the story. Even if I fought it and won, I’m looking at weeks, if not months before I see a dime,” Lauren said, her voice growing panicked. “I have rent and bills to pay.”
Berit could feel the anxiety rolling off Lauren. “Do you have any family that can help?”
Lauren shook her head. “No, it’s just me and Mom, and my dad wouldn’t be able to send me money for some time.”
Berit considered the people she knew and the connections she had made, but not one stood out as an immediate fix. Unless… Berit looked up at Lauren with bright eyes. “I have an idea. It’s not perfect, but it’ll work.”
Lauren looked at her curiously.
“File for unemployment and fight for it,” Berit said, “and you can work here while you wait for the verdict. I’ll pay you under the table, and you can job search while you’re at it, too. I can’t pay you as much as you were making as a paralegal, but I’m sure it’ll cover your bills.” She waited for Lauren to answer, but all she got was a sad stare. “What do you think?”
“I don’t know the first thing about bars or serving people.”
Berit waved off Lauren’s worry. “We’re all great teachers.”
Lauren chewed on her dry lower lip and looked around for the first time. “Is this your office?”
“Yes. This is my very small office.” Berit took Lauren’s hand in both of hers. “Let me hire you and help you.”
“I don’t think us working together is a smart move.”
“Why not?” Berit said, trying to mask the disappointment in her voice.
“Because we barely know each other, and it could kill whatever friendship we do have. I could be a terrible employee. I was just fired, for Christ’s sake.”
Berit held Lauren’s hands more tightly. “How well do you think I know any of my employees when I hire them? I have one, maybe two interviews and then make a decision. I know you’re responsible, and you very clearly care about being employed. Those are two very important things for a boss,” she said. “Please, Lauren, take the job. Even if it’s just for a little while.” Berit’s wide and earnest eyes never strayed from Lauren’s.
“I’m a paralegal. I went to school to learn about law.”
Berit heard Lauren’s sound and solid reasoning, but she also noticed her resolve starting to break down; the tiny upturn of her lips was a dead giveaway. “I’m not offering a career change, just a temporary fix.”
Lauren nodded. “Okay,” she said with a growing smile.
“If you need to think about it—wait. Did you just accept the job?” Berit felt positively giddy.
“Even with all of my doubts, I think I’d be silly not to. I really like having a roof over my head and being able to buy food.” She raised their joined hands. “But this is still just a friend helping a friend, right?”
Berit laughed, happy to see a little of the Lauren she’d come to know return. “Just a friendly gesture, I promise. I actually have a strict no-fraternizing rule here.”
“You do?” Lauren’s face and voice were heavily laced with shock.
“No, not at all, but I can for you.” Berit dropped Lauren’s hand and held her own hands up to prove her promise of innocence. She almost yelped when Lauren pulled her into a tight hug. Lauren’s hair smelled slightly floral, a bouquet Berit wished she could examine longer, but Lauren pulled away a second later.
“Thank you, Berit, and I’m sorry I just showed up like this. You must think I’m such a mess.” Lauren ran her fingers through her hair several times, working out the knots. “I left work and started to head home, but the thought of the bills and of my roommate’s deadbeat girlfriend hanging around made me feel worse, so I knew I couldn’t go there. My friend Amber didn’t pick up, and next on my list was getting drunk and seeing you.” Lauren’s smile looked small and fragile, as if one more stroke of bad luck would destroy it forever.
Berit licked her lips and stood. She held out a hand for Lauren to take. “I don’t recommend getting drunk, but I do have the perfect drink to make you.”
Lauren stood slowly with Berit’s assistance. She let go of Berit’s hand immediately, much to Berit’s disappointment. Another moment of contact wouldn’t have been so bad.
“Is it strong? Please tell me it’s the strongest drink on your menu.” Lauren’s normally smooth voice had turned hoarse since her breakdown.
Berit led Lauren to an empty seat at the end of the bar closest to the stockroom and her office in case Lauren needed another moment to herself. She held Lauren’s upper arms gently as she guided her onto the stool. “This drink is definitely strong. I call it a Long Island Fuck It. It’s a Long Island iced tea plus bourbon.” Berit started collecting several bottles before returning to Lauren with an empty Collins glass filled halfway with ice. “A little bit of everything,” she said as she poured several different liquors onto the ice. “A bit of bourbon, stir it, and top it with a little cola.” With a goofy grin, she shot a spritz of cola from the bar’s gun.
Lauren laughed lightly. “What? No fancy organic pure sugar cane cola for your Long Island Fuck Its?”
Berit leaned over the bar and got as close to Lauren as she could, whispering, “It tastes just as good. I promise.” She pulled back and served the next few women in line. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught Lauren’s smile after her first tentative sip.
In between customers, Berit would swing by to check on Lauren, who wasn’t in a rush for a second drink. Sh
e looked considerably better than when she had come in. Her eyes were still red and puffy, but clear. Berit would make small, terrible jokes every time she stopped by, and Lauren would laugh with ease. Once, when Berit looked back, Lauren had tilted her head and caught the light from overhead. Berit was struck by her beauty. Her lips were swollen from forceful cries and a tiny trace of smudged makeup still clung to her cheeks. No one had ever captured her attention like that.
“Hey, Berit?” Someone pushed at Berit’s shoulder. “Berit?”
“Yeah?” Berit turned to find Bellamy staring at her with an empty tray in hand. “Sorry, did you need me?”
Bellamy’s full lips split into a salacious grin. “I never need you, but wanting you is a different story.”
Berit wiped her hands on her towel and tucked it back into her pocket. She used the move as an excuse to check on Lauren once more from afar. “I don’t know, Bellamy, I’m pretty sure you told me you needed me the other night.” Berit’s smile turned smug. “More than once, actually.”
Bellamy cleared her throat. “My table is waiting for three shots of Fireball and two Blue Moons.”
“Bottle or draft?”
“Draft, one with extra orange.”
Berit poured the shots and filled pint glasses with beer.
“Who’s your new friend?” Bellamy asked.
The steady stream of Blue Moon stuttered for a fraction of a second. Berit tilted her head casually. “That’s Lauren. She’s going to come work with us for a bit.”
“And she needed a drink right after the interview. Jeez, Berit, that’s harsh even for you.”
“Ha ha. She got fired and needs the money. So I gave her a job to fix her worries and a drink to drown her sorrows.”
Bellamy’s expression turned intense, and she stepped close to Berit. “Now you know why I keep ending up in your bed. You’re very generous.”
Berit blushed and watched Bellamy walk away, holding her tray high above her head and dancing to the latest pop hit that filled the bar. Bellamy never spilled a drop. She had incredible balance, a fact she had actually put on her résumé.
