by Doyle, Mae
It wasn’t by his phone, which was face-down on his desk, obviously signaling to me that I was going to have all of his attention.
In fact, I had just about given up finding it when I saw what I was looking for.
He’d pushed it up by the base of his computer screen, and from where I was standing, I could only see a tiny corner of it.
But there it was. A pad of hot pink sticky notes.
Grinning to myself, I ripped my eyes away from the hot pink notes. Somewhere, locked deep in the great Dr. Nick Marshall, there was someone who had an appreciation for bright colors.
I was going to find him.
“What can I do for you?” I asked, barely able to contain my excitement. This was much, much better than looking in all of the doors on my hall. He’d hunted out these hot pink notes for a reason, and I honestly didn’t think that he would dig them out or go buy them just to leave me a note so that he could fire me.
“We need to talk.” He didn’t return my smile, and I sand slowly into the chair across from him. The look on his face made me nervous, like I was a kid who had just been caught doing something bad.
When I was younger and my grandmother gave me this look, I’d mentally run through the list of all of the things I’d done wrong to try to guess which one I was about to get in trouble for, but right now, there was no need for that. I knew what I’d done.
I’d just really, really, really hoped that nobody else would find out.
Chapter 11
I was silent, fully expecting him to launch into a diatribe of what I’d done, how I’d wronged him, and what I needed to do to fix it. Instead, he was strangely quiet, giving me the perfect opportunity to really look at him.
I mean, who wouldn’t, in my position?
He obviously shaved this morning. His face was smooth and stubble-free, his gorgeous eyes popping a little thanks to the light blue shirt that he had on. In the corner of the office he had a coat rack, and his jacket hung there along with a scarf and a winter coat.
I bet he looked really cute in a scarf.
The thought crossed my mind and I paused, wondering if I’d said that out loud. It was a really bad habit that I had, but he didn’t move, and certainly didn’t tell me to get out of his office for objectifying him, so I figured that I was good.
“What can I do for you, Nick?”
Besides turn in my letter of resignation, hand over my office keys, and move away so that I never have to relive the shame of only lasting five days at a job.
“I want to talk to you about Friday,” he said, leaning forward and steepling his fingers while he looked at me. His blue eyes were so bright and clear that it would be easy to get lost in them, but I had to focus on what he was saying. “That stew and mousse? They were delicious.”
“They were?” The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them, and he tilted his head to the side just a bit, looking at me like he was confused. “I didn’t try them,” I told him. “Not enough to go around and I didn’t want to take any that one of your guests would have wanted.”
He nodded. “Well, the food was a hit, but there’s a little problem.”
Of course there was. I waited, deciding to try to wait him out and make him keep talking instead of babbling on and telling him the truth by accident.
The problem was obviously that I’d lied about where the food came from. Right? Except he didn’t look angry. Instead, he looked…confused.
“What’s that?” I asked.
Great, so much for my self-control. One look into his eyes and the way he squinted a little while he looked at me, like he was trying to decide whether or not I was lying, and I was falling apart at his feet, completely unable to stop myself from babbling on.
I grabbed my left palm with my right hand and dug my nails in to help me focus.
“I spent all weekend looking up the catering company and I couldn’t find them. I know that you said they were new, but most places get a website or something put up right away so that customers can refer them out.”
“Oh, they do?” I didn’t know what to say. I was doing everything possible to keep my face as calm and unbothered as possible, but inside I felt like I was falling apart. If Nick had been a cardiologist, he might have recognized the symptoms of impending heart failure, but he was probably too busy focusing on the fact that my nose was crooked to pay attention to the fact that my heart was about to give out.
It was a soccer accident when I was four. Have you ever seen little kids play soccer? It’s not so much a game as an organized time for them to get together and run into each other like ping pong balls bouncing up and down the field. Honestly, I was lucky that I only walked away with a little nose damage.
Pair that with the fact that it had started out flat before the direct hit, and it was easy to see why I was a little self-conscious about it.
He nodded. “Sure do, so how did you find them? They don’t seem to exist online.”
“Um, my best friend,” I said, knowing full well that Tiffany was going to kill me. “I’ve been living with her and so she knows everything I’m going through, so she put out some feelers at work.”
The lie detector determined that was a lie.
“Well, we need to pay them, and I want you to hire them again for my next luncheon. Mark didn’t really like the stew, but he hates cinnamon, but everyone else loved it.” He wrinkled his nose a little like he couldn’t believe that Mark wouldn’t appreciate a good thing when it was put in front of him, and I raised my eyebrow.
This was not real life.
“They did?” Crap. Crappity crap crap. I couldn’t believe what was happening. I didn’t want to believe what was happening.
“Do you mind giving me the number for the caterer? This way, I can just pass it on to the people who asked.”
“I…don’t mind,” I told him.
Another lie.
“I just don’t have my phone with me.” To prove it, I patted myself down like I was trying to show him that I wasn’t carrying a gun or drugs. “It’s in my office.”
“No big deal. Just get me the number by the end of the day, and do call them again to see if they can help us out this week. I know that it’s short notice, but I completely forgot that I usually do a Thanksgiving lunch for top donors the week before the holiday.”
“Yeah, I’m sure they’d love to help,” I told him. My palms were sweaty, and if I kept digging my nails into my skin, I was going to have permanent half-moon scars there. “I’m so glad you liked them. It’s nice to find a fledgling company like that.”
So many lies. I was drowning in them, each one making me choke as I spat it out. There wasn’t any way for me to come back from this, I just knew it.
“Sure is.” He stood and reached out for my hand. “Get with Linda about cutting them a check, too. We don’t want them to think that they’re not going to get paid for everything, okay?”
Oh, God.
“Sounds great,” I said brightly, standing up and shaking his hand. His skin was warm and soft and I didn’t want to let go once I shook his hand. Was it my imagination, or did he hold on a bit longer than necessary?
“Don’t you worry about a thing,” I said, slowly backing out of his office. “I’ll take care of everything so you can focus on…changing lives.” I shot him a huge grin, hoping to distract him from the fact that I was falling apart.
“I do want that number today, okay? Thanks, Katie, you’re doing great.”
Was I, though? I shut the door behind me and took a deep breath. Was I doing great? I was pretty sure that, if forced to put my hand on the Bible and swear like I was in court, I would have to admit that I wasn’t doing great.
Sure, I’d mostly avoided Linda, so I deserved half a star for that. And I had plenty of snacks for later, so that was another star. I’d even done more than just lay eyes on Nick — I’d had a full-blown conversation with him.
So far, so good. 2.5 out of 4 stars with the chance to earn one more if
I could just keep myself from telling a lie.
And then it all fell to pieces.
All because I couldn’t stop lying to him. I was just grateful that my job depending on me being creative, not on promoting the ethics of the company, because whenever I was around him, I couldn’t stop lying.
After a moment, I noticed that I was still leaning up against his door, and I stood up, cleared my throat, and dusted off my skirt. The last thing I needed was to draw Linda’s attention, but that was exactly what happened when I walked by her desk on my way to my office.
“He call you in there to finally discipline you about your outfits?” She called out, a hint of glee in her voice. “I told him from day one that you looked like you stood on the corner when you weren’t working here.”
She did what?
I stopped up short, trying to remember that I didn’t want to engage with her during the day, but sighed and walked over to her desk. Everything was as neat and orderly as it had been my first day on the job, and I couldn’t help but wonder if she’d even moved anything.
That made me start to wonder what exactly she did at work, which felt mean, because obviously she helped keep things running as smoothly as possible. I didn’t want to admit it just because I didn’t like her. “That’s not at all why he called me in,” I told her. “He wanted to commend me for such a nice job on Friday.”
She scoffed, like it was the most ridiculous thing she’d ever heard, and I felt my back go up. Why this woman hated me was beyond me, but there was obviously something that I’d done to her.
Maybe she believed in reincarnation and thought I’d done something wrong to her in a past life. Ooh, maybe she had been a mouse and I’d been a cat and killed her.
The thought made me smile, that is, until I saw the sour look on her face.
“The entire office smelled like cinnamon and it made me sneeze all afternoon,” she sniffed. “I really hope that you’re not using the same caterer again, because you’ll turn this place into a health hazard.”
I felt a momentary surge of joy that was quickly tempered by the fact that there was no such caterer. She couldn’t ever know that it was me. I had to keep it hidden from her as well as from Nick if I was going to keep my job.
“Actually,” I said, choosing my words carefully and trying not to seem too overjoyed about her experiencing a little discomfort at work, “Nick wants that caterer back this week, for a Thanksgiving luncheon on Thursday.”
Her pupils narrowed and I had the uncanny feeling that I was looking into the eyes of a snake. “What?”
“Yep,” I said, nodding vigorously and forgetting for just a moment that there was no such caterer and that I was just digging myself a hole that I’d have to climb out of later, “he loved their food. I’m going to go call them right now.”
“You can’t.”
“Sure am. The boss man ordered it, so who am I to tell him he can’t have the food he wants?” I was going too far, and I knew it, but just like a little kid who has finally managed to get their hand on the leftover Halloween candy without anyone in the family knowing about it, I couldn’t stop.
“Please tell me that they’re not making that ridiculous cinnamon stew again,” she said, and I shrugged.
“I’m going to go talk to them now. Want me to put in a good word for you? Any requests?”
For the first time since meeting Linda, I had a bit more power than she did, and we both knew it. It wasn’t like I was overly powerful when compared to her, but Nick had listened to me and wanted me to take care of the catering.
Nevermind that the catering company was fake and I’d have to find a way to convince him that they weren’t the best choice. Right now I had Linda squirming and I didn’t want to give up that power.
“Oh, and he wanted me to remind you that we need to write them a check,” I told her, really rubbing salt in her wound. “So if you don’t mind, I’ll give you the bill and you can go ahead and write it out. Does that work?”
For a moment, I thought that she was going to argue with me, but she gave me a quick nod. “Make it snappy, Katie. Not all of us are getting by on our looks, you know.”
“I’ll email you!” I called out over my shoulder. Even her last little barb hadn’t struck home the way they normally would because I finally felt like I had a bit of the power in the relationship.
It wasn’t until I was back in my office, looking at my horribly bland walls and bag of snacks that were spilling out over my desk that I remembered one very important detail.
If she wrote the company a check, she’d have to have a place to send it. Tasty Foods Catering Company wouldn’t ever cash the check.
Crap.
For what felt like the hundredth time since taking the job, a wave of cool panic washed over me. I had a lot of work to do if I was going to keep everything from imploding, and it all started with figuring out how to convince Nick that Tasty Foods wasn’t going to be able to cater for him on such short notice.
Just one more lie.
One more little lie and then I could stop and everything would be okay.
Chapter 12
My snacks were supposed to be for later, but stress was twisting my stomach up in knots, and only a bag of bbq chips were going to help me calm down. As soon as the first hot bite of bbq hit my tongue I moaned a little, even though I was so full from my morning cereal that I didn’t think I could eat them all.
That was okay. I was honest with myself enough to know that I just needed a little dopamine hit to calm down from that encounter.
My computer powered up quickly, emitting a soft hum that I was starting to find comforting. I knew that it wasn’t true, but in my little office, it felt like nobody could come get me. I could be the infinite liar on my own without anyone knowing just how terrible I really was.
As soon as the computer was up, I ran my own search for Tasty Foods Catering Company. My mouse hovered over search until I clicked it, holding my breath until the results came back.
No hits for that exact search term.
But it didn’t have to stay like that.
I wasn’t sure how far down the rabbit hole I was willing to go, but I knew that I had to be willing to try to fix this. All I needed was a fake website and phone number to get Nick off my back. As soon as he could see that Tasty Foods existed then I could make sure that we never used them again.
I was falling deeper into my web of lies, but I didn’t know how to stop the inevitable march. It was like I was on this path of self-destruction, and there wasn’t anything I could do about it.
“How far do you want to go, Katie?” I asked myself, then fired off a quick text to Tiffany to let her know what I was doing.
It sounded crazy. Setting up a website and phone number for a fake company to hide the fact that I was a liar? My grandmother was spinning over in her grave, I just knew it, and the thought made my stomach cramp so hard that I pushed the bag of chips into the trash.
Before I could spiral into the guilt I was feeling, my phone dinged.
Make sure that you don’t link anything to your personal email.
Oh, Tiffany. She may not have approved, but at least she wasn’t going to let me go out on a limb by myself. I started to send her a series of emojis thanking her for her help, but before I could send them, another text came through.
If you’re going to do it, you might as well do it correctly or you’ll be living on my sofa for another three months!
That text was followed by a grinning emoji, a laughing emoji, and then a gif of a cat pulling a blanket up over itself on the sofa.
I was, obviously, the cat.
No worries. I have a college degree, so how hard can this really be?
There. My grandmother had paid good money and I’d worked hard for scholarships to get me a degree, and it felt like it was finally time for it to shine rather than just existing as an expensive piece of paper.
I was going to make a fake company.
And then kill
it.
A quick search showed me that, even though it was really easy to set up a website online for just a few bucks, it was still too advanced for my abilities.
But making a fake email account wasn’t.
We’d all made one in the past to sign up for online dating, right? This time, though, my handle wasn’t KwazyKatie, it was TastyFoods. With just a few clicks of the mouse, I had my new email address up and running.
Great.
The only problem was that Nick had wanted the phone number, not the email address. For a moment, the thought crossed my mind that I could just give him my phone number, because the likelihood of him ever calling me was so slim, but even I wasn’t that dumb.
I could see how that would all fall down around me the first time he wanted to reach out to them himself and my phone vibrated in my pocket.
“Okay, Katie, think,” I muttered to myself, resting my hand in my arms. “You need decorations for the party on Thursday, so you might as well get those.”
Sighing, I pushed myself back from the desk, then had a great thought.
Over the weekend, when I was still emotionally and mentally recovering from the stress of the Friday luncheon, Tiffany and I had watched Die Without Pain, a terrible action movie that also had a ridiculous spy subplot.
Most of the movie was a blur thanks to us making fun of it, but there was one thing that stuck out in my mind.
Burner phones.
I felt a new resolve rush through me, like when I’d finally decided that I was going to dump my deadweight boyfriend a year ago. It had taken me a while to get to the point where I was ready to do it, but when it was time, I’d stepped up to the plate.
Consider it a home run in the dating world, except for the fact that he would definitely try to charm his way into the life of another unsuspecting woman.
Tiffany had suggested making a website to let the world know that he was cheating scum, but I hadn’t gone that insane.
But that meant that she either knew how to make a website or who could make a website. Grinning to myself, I grabbed my purse, checking to make sure that I had my office keys in it so Linda wouldn’t have to let me in.
