by Blair Holden
I don’t really have the patience to sit on this and use the jibe at a strategic time. Good timing isn’t one of my skills, if you haven’t noticed that already.
“Yeah about that…you want to talk about it?”
“Not unless you do.”
“It’s not that I’m hiding something, Tessie, there’s nothing for me to hide. It’s just that I’m the idiot who keeps falling asleep on his gorgeous girlfriend.”
I roll my eyes but don’t deny that butterflies that flood my stomach. Yes, I may have changed out of my sweats, and yes, I might be wearing a top that shows off a sliver of the flat stomach I worked so hard to get. Somehow the small amount of skin showing is hypnotic to Cole, whose gaze refuses to budge.
“I’m an idiot,” he repeats.
“I won’t disagree.”
Because it doesn’t really do wonders for a girl’s self-esteem when she plans out so much for her boyfriend’s visit and he can’t keep his eyes open to see that she’s just spent an entire paycheck on lingerie. So now, Stone, you’re about to be introduced to delayed gratification. I duck away from his wandering hands as he attempts to take way too many liberties with my skirt.
“Oh no you don’t. I’ve got a meeting with Amy I need to get to and you should,” I pretend to look at my watch, “go check on your neighbors, because I think she was blowing up your phone while you were asleep.”
His face drops and I feel a little bad for rejecting him like that, but I’m not lying. I do need to go see Amy, and Melissa was calling him repeatedly. Of course my concern for little Lainey won over and I texted her to ask if everything was okay.
And her answer?
She wanted to know if Cole could swing by her mother’s place and get Lainey’s stuffed rabbit that she left there.
I don’t know about you, but I hardly consider that an emergency and worth calling someone so many times, especially if that person’s stayed with you the entire night at the hospital, caring for your child. I told her I’d let him know when he woke, and maybe it’s my imagination and inability to gauge someone’s mood from their texts, but I could tell that she was annoyed.
Tough luck, Mel.
“Tessie, it’s not what you think.”
“I’m not thinking anything. Right now, I’ve got to get to work. You can stay here, make yourself at home, check up and make sure Lainey’s okay. I have the event tonight so I’m not sure when I’ll be free. I can try to leave early and maybe we can—”
“I have a study group this evening.” He curses and I feel this weird sort of tension begin to surround us.
We have completely different schedules, lives, and I think that for the very first time they’re clashing and we don’t know what to do about it. It irks me, though, that he’s been keeping things from me, obviously carving out some time for two other people in his life, whereas he can’t find space in his busy calendar for me.
I don’t want to be that girl, I really don’t. I get that he has a life and I get that he has plans. My showing up is unexpected and he doesn’t know how to fit me in along with all his other responsibilities.
“Well, okay, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow then. You can order room service if you’re hungry, the company’s footing the bill.” I push past him to start getting ready for the evening.
***
“You seem a little distracted, is everything okay?”
Coming from my boss, it seems like a warning of sorts, better snap out of it, Tessa.
“I’m fine, sorry, but I’ve got everything you said.”
“I know you did, I can see you typing, but that’s not what I meant. Your heart’s not in it, I’m not getting those wildly spun ideas that you try to come up with and that I have to gently reject.”
I blush. “Right, I thought I’d sit back on this one.”
She looks at me with shrewd, understanding eyes and I don’t know how but she knows, she just knows.
“I usually try to stay out of my employees’ personal lives, especially if they’ve just joined my team. I don’t think it’s my place to give unsolicited advice, but in your case, I think you might need it.”
I’m wondering what the quickest escape route is through my boss’s hotel room. I could jump out the window but given that she’s on the fifteenth floor, it wouldn’t be my best idea. I consider asking her if I can use her bathroom and then hide in there forever. Hey, last night’s prawns could have been dodgy. But I sit still and prepare myself for her unsolicited advice, as she put it.
“That boy that was around last night…”
How does she even know? “Oh Leila brought it up the first chance she got,” Amy waves it away, “I don’t have a problem with you inviting your boyfriend up to your room. I’m your boss, not your nanny, but I have problem when it starts interfering with your work. I assume you know where Leila is?”
“Getting an exclusive, behind-the-scenes look,” I mutter ungraciously.
“Exactly, and you’re doing what? Sitting her pouting like a petulant child with your mind miles away. I know you can do your job, Tessa, but I can hire any halfwit graduate and they’d be able to take notes. That’s not why I hired you out of thousands of applicants.”
“Oh.”
We’ve never had this talk, the one where I found out what it is that made this company, this magazine that works with an industry that I know next to nothing about, hire me.
So I’m all ears.
“I liked that you weren’t cutthroat competitive like the rest of those girls. I liked that you focused on the story, on the human aspect, that you liked forming connections. I liked you because I thought you’d bring an entirely new reader base to Venus, ones who don’t exactly want to know what foundation works best for their skin but who’d like to tell us why getting out that tube of lipstick and putting it on makes them feel invincible even on bad days. I wanted you to dig deep and bring readers stories that they’ll relate to, stories that’ll make it look like we don’t just cater to size-zero white women. I wanted you to be the first to make Venus into something that every woman would be proud to own a copy of.”
I’m not sure whether I want to cry or stand up and applaud the woman and her vision. That’s as passionate a speech as I’ve ever witnessed my boss make, and the fact that most of it is implying that I failed her doesn’t go past me. I hang my head in shame, feeling all of two feet tall.
“I…I had no idea.”
“Of course you didn’t. You were too busy playing games with Leila and feeling sorry for yourself that you missed the whole purpose of our trip. Yesterday when Leanne was talking about why she founded the brand, why she’s working so hard on making sure that beauty is never exclusionary and that the makeup world becomes more diverse, what were you doing?”
Feeling sorry for myself.
“I’m so sorry Amy, I…I promise I’ll do better.”
It’s miraculous that I don’t start stuttering. I’ve never done well with disappointing people, that’s because I try my very best not to do it. I was a good student, I like to think I’m a good daughter, sister, friend, girlfriend, but sometimes balancing it becomes difficult, for example, right now.
I’m the Squidward of this magazine, not exactly employee of the month material.
“You should, because I know you can. So, I’m just going to say this once. While we’re here, I’d like for your entire focus to be on work. What you do outside of working hours is none of business, but if I see that it’s interfering with your job?”
“My butt will be out on the concrete?”
“And you’ll have a very, very devastating letter waiting for you on your desk when we get back. Understood?”
Absolutely.
***
After my wonderful talk with Amy, I prepare for the evening with military precision. There’s no way I’m going to disappoint her. Nothing’s going to distract me today, absolutely nothing.
I put on a stunning, floor-length gold dress that has a rather risqué s
lit running up one side. Examining my image in the mirror, I realize that asking Beth to help me shop seemed like a good idea at the time, but when it comes to actually finding the guts to wear the kind of outfits she makes me buy? My confidence shrivels up like a prune.
But I hold my head up high and zip up the back, not that there’s very much fabric there as well. The off-shoulder straps and low back expose the whole expanse of my upper back and reveal the tops of my breasts. I’ve pinned my hair up so as to have my newly tanned skin on display and make sure to keep my makeup minimal, glossy and fresh, to let the dress stand out.
Moments like these, I don’t recognize myself, don’t know how I ended up here in the first place, but I think something about Amy’s speech stuck with me.
She sees something in me, believes in me, expects me to do a good job, and how do I repay her? I don’t allow myself to obsess over Cole or the faux family he’s formed here. I haven’t heard from him since I walked away earlier in the day, and maybe he’s at his study group.
Maybe he’s at home.
But he knows where I am if he’d like to seek me out.
After taking one last look at myself in the mirror, I slip on my heels and off we go.
***
“Don’t look now, but there’s a really sexy guy in a suit coming your way.”
I almost snap my neck with how fast I turn around.
No way.
How?
What on earth is he doing here?
“I’m guessing he’s the boyfriend?” Amy comes up to me and one of the girls from the brand that I’d been chatting to. The press event has been a success and I’ve had the best luck in the past couple of hours talking to people, listening, really getting to know them and their stories.
Stories I can do, people I can relate to, and now I know what Amy wants from me.
“I…I have no idea what he’s doing here.”
“Oh, I may have asked the organizers to save a seat for him.” She winks. “Good job today, I’m glad our talk worked. Now go have some fun.” She literally pushes me toward Cole, who’s walking right toward me.
I walk toward him as elegantly as I can, having not yet tripped or flashed anyone tonight.
I say yet because it’s very much a possibility.
And I nearly do fall flat on my face because Cole in a suit is something else. Cole, looking a little unsure of himself and eyeing me like I’m the only drop of water in the Sahara? He’s lucky if I don’t pounce on him right away.
“Hey.” I smile as he comes closer.
“Hey, Shortcake.” His eyes drink me in. “I actually don’t think I have words to tell you how incredible you look.”
My cheeks turn pink and I shift my shoulders, pretending to be cool about it, but there’s nothing but hot flames bursting inside of me, given the way he’s looking at me.
“How did you even end up here?”
He looks over my shoulder to where Amy stands, and I think he smiles at her.
“I pulled my head out of my ass for once and realized where I needed to be, so here I am, and there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”
“Not even when there’s a toddler emergency?”
His lips press into a thin line. “No.”
“Cole!” I shove his shoulder a little. “You’re not supposed to say that.”
He rolls his eyes. “Lainey’s grandparents have her for the weekend. As long as she isn’t with Mel, she’ll be fine.”
I’m sensing there’s more to the story there, but I don’t ask for it right now, because right now it’s about me and the love of my life and dancing the night away.
So, we may or may not get interrupted by Leila a couple of times, but I think it’s forgivable, especially since she comes around to say “hi” for the fifth time.
“Isn’t it funny how we met last night?” She laughs in that flirty tone of hers, her hands animated as she inches closer and closer to Cole, who, to his credit, looks incredibly uncomfortable.
“Actually, no, that was pretty embarrassing, and I don’t think I apologized enough for banging on your door like that.”
Leila grins, Cole’s face turns a little red, and I begin to wonder what went down between the two of them last night. For all I know, Leila may have a thing for sleeping naked and my poor boyfriend stumbled upon the wicked witch in all her unclothed glory.
The thought makes me want to gouge her eyes out.
“So I heard you’re a law student?” She appraises him from head to toe, licking her lips once she’s finished. Okay, now I know she’s just doing this to mess with me. Why on earth would she be flirting so blatantly with Cole if that weren’t the case?
She’s not that evil, is she?
“Uh, yes?” Cole looks at me as if I’d tell him to tell her that in reality, he’s an escaped convict with ten counts of cold-blooded murder.
I’m tempted, but I just give him a subtle nod and grab his bicep. “Leila, if you’re done investigating, would you mind if we leave?”
She smirks, as if relishing the idea that I’m insecure about her, and maybe in another world she would have been correct. She’s any man’s wet dream right now, her lace dress so sheer that it’s almost see-through. I’ve seen the tongues wagging at her, men whose eyes nearly popped out when she walked by them, and have realized that she likes having this power over people, where she can control their strings like a Machiavellian puppeteer. I’m not scared of her, though; I’ve seen enough of her kind in my life to know the kind of insecurity and fear of rejection that lies beneath their strong veneer.
“I can’t believe you work with her.” Cole appears concerned as we walk away from Leila. I get why he’s worried, and it’s mostly because of my history with bullies. No matter what I do, I somehow always end up with someone determined to bring me down. But I’m far from the poor-little-me Tessa who cowered before Nicole.
“I got this; playground bullies can’t hurt me,” I assure him as we sway to the music. All around us people are walking about, dancing, laughing, having fun, and for a moment, I feel the need to be just like them, to just be Cole and Tessa with no worries in the world whatsoever.
I wonder how long that will last.
Chapter Eight: The Guy’s Still Got the Perceptiveness of Roadkill
Unlike the first crush of my preadolescent self, the one and only Troy Bolton, my head is definitely not in the game. I’ve been staring at the blank screen of my computer for a good fifteen minutes before a not-so-gentle shove pulls me back to reality. Lo and behold, Leila stands towering over me in her six-inch deathtrap heels and hands me the brown bag from our nearest deli. Today I’d had to sacrifice my pride and beg her to get me lunch because I couldn’t be bothered to move from my desk.
I feel sick, like really sick. My head and body feel weighted, my eyes haven’t stopped watering, and I’ve been through half a box of tissues to make sure I don’t have snot running down my chin. Worst of all, it’s as though someone shoved a dozen knives down my throat and they’re constantly scraping my skin. I’m not sure how I caught the bug or what I did to offend my otherwise impeccable immune system, but I’m suffering, and from the looks of it, Leila isn’t in the mood to be my Florence Nightingale.
“No offense,” she starts, sounding like she’s thoroughly going to enjoy insulting me, “but you look like shit.”
I do definitely look like shit, but it’s Friday and I dragged myself to work thinking that I could survive a single day before holing myself in all weekend, but I think I overestimated myself, given the amount of work I’ve done today.
“Thanks,” I sniff and reach for the soup she’s brought me. But even after handing my food over, Leila doesn’t move.
“So you’re just going to stay here till five p.m.?”
“That’s the plan.”
“You’ll stay here with your sick germs?”
My shoulders drop and I put my beloved chicken noodle soup aside, reluctantly turning toward her. “If there’s a poin
t you’re trying to make, please make it quick. I’m missing out on nourishing my soul right now.”
“I hate being sick and I try to limit the experience to about once a year, and that’s usually during the holidays so that my mom can take care of me. There isn’t any snow outside and no fat men dressed like Santa, so I refuse to catch whatever contagious disease you’re carrying.”
“It’s just flu—”
She cuts me off. “It might as well be the bubonic plague. I think you should go home.”
“Now listen here—”
“I think she’s right.”
My boss and the one woman who can put the fear of God into me with a single look comes up from behind Leila and looks at me with something akin to pity and a little bit of disgust in her eyes.
To be fair, my desk looks like where all the boxes of Kleenex go to die.
“But—”
“It’s almost the weekend and there’s nothing you’re doing that can’t wait till Monday. Go home and get yourself some decent cough syrup.”
On cue, I cough, and it’s a hacking, there’s-something-definitely-wrong-with-my-chest kind.
“Call the poor girl a cab and send her home, Leila.” Amy shakes her head and walks away, and my coworker wouldn’t move faster, even if someone told her there was a Manolo Blahnik sample sale.
***
“You sound like death.”
“I sure do feel like it.”
“Are you sure you don’t want us to stop by and check in?”
“God, no,” I tell my brother. I feel bad enough that I’ve got him stressed, but he and Beth are going back home this weekend and there’s no way I’m derailing their plans.
“Then why don’t you come with us?”
“I’ve got a lot to do here,” I lie, the truth being that I know why this trip home is so special for Travis and I’m not going to be third-wheeling.
“Look, I know what you’re thinking, and you being there is not going to be a problem. Beth would be angrier if I left you here alone when you’re sick.”
