Wishful Thinking

by Evangeline Anderson

  Phil tried to put the doubt to the back of her mind but she felt a niggling apprehension as she drove on towards Starfish Cove. Well, she reminded herself as the wind whipped through her hair, whatever happened, the most important thing was to let Josh knew how she felt. Nothing else mattered.

  Starfish Cove was a quiet beach with spotless white sand edged by tall feathery bushes Phil didn’t know the name of. She was fairly sure that her nana would have known since she loved to garden and made a mental note to ask her. The bushes provided some privacy and formed little nooks along the beach where covered picnic tables and outdoor barbeque grilles had been erected. It was perfect for a gathering the size of BB&D’s, Phil admitted grudgingly. The last office beach party had been located at a noisy public beach.

  She parked in the sandy parking lot and got out, the scent of cooking hot dogs wafting through the air. Her stomach fluttered as she adjusted her bikini top self-consciously, grabbed her big straw beach bag, and headed toward the beach. She was hoping like crazy that Josh would already be there but she wasn’t too surprised that his Hybrid wasn’t in the parking lot yet—her best friend had never been on time for anything in his life that Phil knew of. Instead, the first person she saw was Kelli. She was wearing a bright yellow one piece suit with an electric blue towel wrapped around her narrow hips.

  “Hi, Kelli.” Phil waved, determined to treat her coworker in a professional and adult fashion despite the debacle in the HR review the day before.

  Kelli scrunched her nose and frowned. For a minute, Phil didn’t think she was going to answer. But then her talkative nature seemed to reassert itself and she greeted her grudgingly. “Hi, Philomena. How are you?”

  “Fine, thanks. How’s the party so far?” Phil asked, feeling that things were going remarkably well all things considered.

  “It’s all right. You know, I wasn’t going to talk to you today. Not after what you said about me talking too much in that HR thing, anyway. But I’m not the kind of person to hold a grudge.”

  Of course she wasn’t, not when there was a chance she could get someone to listen to her yap. Phil was profoundly glad she didn’t feel compelled to say that out loud, though, and since she was going to be working with Kelli for the foreseeable future, she decided it was better to smooth things over.

  “You know, Kelli, what I said in the HR review didn’t really come out the way I planned,” she began. “What I really meant to say was…” that we should limit our non-business conversation while we’re at work. To her surprise, what came out of Phil’s mouth was, “we don’t have enough hours in the day to catch up with each other.”

  “What?” Kelli frowned. “That’s like, so not what you said it in the meeting.”

  “I…I…know but…” Phil frowned. She was giving Kelli the wrong idea and if she didn’t get things straight her coworker would begin talking her ear off again.

  “I mean, I thought you said you thought I talked too much?”

  “I did say that and…” sometimes you do talk too much, especially when I’m trying to work. “And I was wrong. You don’t talk too much at all. I really enjoy your conversation, especially when I’m working.” Phil was horrified.

  “Really?” Kelli was staring at her.

  “I…I…” Phil shook her head violently, trying to make the words come out right. “What I meant to say was…” I hate the way you’re always talking about yourself and the trivial details of your life when I’m trying to work! Your constant yapping drives me insane! “I love to hear all your fascinating little stories while we’re at work. They really brighten my day.”

  “Well, isn’t that sweet. Come on, the party’s over here.” Kelli linked her arm through Phil’s, drawing her through the large feathery bushes and onto the expanse of white sugar-fine sand. “I guess you were just having a bad couple of days. Probably that time of the month—I know I turn into a total bitch when my aunt Gazelda comes to town.”

  “Aunt…Gazelda?” Phil asked hesitantly.

  “Oh.” Kelli gave a high pitched giggle that drilled through Phil’s head. “That’s what we used to call it when we got our periods. I have six sisters, you know, and we used to get into all kinds of trouble! The stories I could tell…” She gave Phil a sharp look. “But I don’t want to bore you.”

  Phil felt strongly that hearing Kelli tell about her six sisters would be the most boring thing imaginable but when she opened her mouth to say so (in a tactful way, of course) what came out was, “Oh, no please! It sounds fascinating.”

  “Well, then. There was this one time…” Kelli dragged her down the beach towards the BB&D party while Phil tried to figure out what was going on. This had to be due to her birthday wish and her fairy godmother’s maliciously lazy magic again. Would she now be forced to lie to everyone she met? Or was it simply that she was going to have to keep saying nice things she didn’t mean? It would probably tickle the FG’s funny bone (if she had one) to make Phil unable to say anything but insincere compliments after the way they had lambasted her yesterday morning.

  “…so glad I can talk to you because, you know, Mister Dickson has expressly forbidden anyone who wasn’t actually at the review to talk about it. On pain of losing our jobs—can you imagine?”

  At least Kelli’s prattle drew Phil’s attentions from her own problems. Apparently they had moved from her coworker’s childhood and back to the disastrous HR review.

  “Did he really say that?” she asked weakly, glad that her words came out as she intended.

  Her coworker nodded emphatically. “Oh, yes! In fact, I—oh, wait. Don’t talk about it now. Hello, Alison!” she cooed as their coworker came strutting down the beach. She was draped over the arm of Greg Hansford, who was generally acknowledged to be the second most eligible bachelor at BB&D. He was smiling broadly, apparently unaware that he had replaced Davis Miles in Alison’s affections only by virtue of his sexual orientation.

  “Howdy, ya’ll.” He grinned, showing big white teeth like tombstones. He was from the Dallas/Fort Worth area and he always reminded Phil of the Westerns her nana had made them watch when she and her sisters were younger.

  “Uh, howdy,” she said, trying to smile. “How are you, Alison?”

  “I’m just fine; don’t you worry about me.” Alison gave them a catty smile and pressed closer to Greg, rubbing her breasts against his arm. She was wearing a pink bikini so tiny it might as well have not been there at all. Phil had been of the opinion that she would never see a smaller or more revealing bikini than the red mesh one she’d tried on for Josh at RipTide the day before, but Alison’s outfit left it in the dust.

  Alison seemed to read her mind. “How do you like my suit, Philomena?” she asked, giving Phil an arch look. “Greg here just loves it, don’t you, Greggy?” She pressed her breasts against his arm again and Greg’s chest puffed up with pride.

  “Sure do, kitten.” He gave Alison a wide grin and his eyes took a leisurely visual tour of her skimpy attire. “I think it’s right pretty.”

  Greggy? Kitten? Phil felt like she might be sick. She would have liked to tell Alison exactly what she thought of her little pink bikini, but when she opened her mouth what came out instead was, “I think it’s lovely, Alison. Very tasteful.”

  “Really?” Allison gave her a surprised look as Phil struggled inwardly. Then it hit her—the way her wish was screwed up. Rory’s off-hand statement about Phil needing the exact opposite of her first wish had given their fairy godmother another loophole and now Phil was stuck saying the exact opposite of what she felt.

  Phil went weak in the knees. How could she go through the next month or however long it took the FG to get back from Patagonia saying the exact opposite of what she was feeling?

  “Philomena?” Kelli was nudging her. “Alison asked you a question.”

  “I’m sorry, what?” Phil looked up from her dazed contemplation of the sand around her flip-flops.

  “I said, do you really like my suit or are you just sayin
g that?” Alison demanded, her eyes narrowed.

  I think that is the single sluttiest suit I have ever seen. You ought to have more respect for yourself than to wear that in public. Not to mention the fact that it’s disgusting the way you’re hanging all over Greg Hansford just because you couldn’t get Davis Miles, Phil thought. But what came out of her mouth was, “It’s such a flattering suit, Alison, and it’s wonderful that you have the body to wear it out on a public beach. And you and Greg make a great couple, too.”

  “Oh, you do,” Kelli hastened to agree. “How long have you been together?”

  Alison’s mouth dropped into a round “O” of surprise but Greg Hansford just grinned. “Well since you ask, we just kinda hooked up today. Didn’t we, kitten?”

  “Um, yes.” Alison seemed to remember that she was supposed to be charming Hansford’s trunks off because she brightened her smile. “Yes, we did, Greggy-weggy. These office beach parties are so much fun because you get to see what everyone has on under their suits.” She stroked Hansford’s arm suggestively. “Turns out Greg here was hiding some pretty impressive muscles.”

  Phil eyed her coworker’s rather flabby midsection. I wouldn’t quit my day job to enter the Mister Universe contest if I were you, Greggy-weggy, she thought. But… “You certainly do look good in those swim trunks,” she heard herself saying helplessly. “Maybe you should take some time off work and enter some kind of bodybuilding competition.”

  Greg Hansford’s chest puffed up even farther. “Well, now, maybe I’ll just do that one of these days. What do you think of Philomena’s idea, kitten?”

  “I think I need to take you farther down the beach where I can admire your muscles all by myself,” she said. “Come on, Greggy.” She must have thought Phil had designs on her latest catch because she shot her a dirty look before tugging Hansford back up the beach.

  “Bye, Alison, see you later.” Kelli waved happily with the hand that wasn’t clutching Phil’s arm. “Whew,” she muttered under her breath as Alison and her latest prey made their way across the sand. “I thought you two were going to go at it hammer and tongs, Philomena! And, Omigod, if you had, I so would have been right there with you. Alison is such a bitch! And after what she said in that review yesterday…”

  So they were back to the earlier subject of conversation. “Hmm.” Phil nodded. She could see why both Dicksons would want to keep their nasty little secrets to themselves. “So you haven’t told anyone?”

  “Not a word. But I’ve been dying to talk about it. I mean, can you believe everything that came out? The cross-dressing and the porn, not to mention the fact that Davis Miles is g—” She shut up abruptly and when Phil looked up, she understood why.

  They had finally reached the site of the main party and BB&D employees were milling around barbeque grills where some hotdogs and hamburgers were roasting. Standing in front of one of the grills with a pair of tongs in one hand and lite beer in the other was Davis Miles. And directly beside him with one arm around his waist was a handsome man with blondish brown hair and pale blue eyes. The hand on Miles’s waist was very definitely more than friendly and as Phil watched, the man leaned forward and nuzzled against the lawyer’s neck, making Miles blush.

  “Stop that, Jonathan, we’re in public,” he yelped, but there was no real anger in his tone.

  “It’s a private beach and besides, you weren’t complaining last night,” the other man murmured, so low that Phil barely caught the words.

  “Well, I didn’t think… Oh, hello.” Miles looked up and caught Phil’s eye, giving her a friendly smile. “Hang on,” he told the man. “I just need to say a word to my coworker here.”

  He approached Phil, and Kelli made a quick excuse and melted into the crowd. Phil got the distinct feeling that she thought gayness might be catching.

  “Mister Miles,” she said, hoping her mouth would behave. “How are you?” There, that had come out okay, she thought with relief. Maybe she’d be okay if she just stuck to questions instead of opinions.

  “Ms. Swann…Phil, I just wanted you to know that I don’t care if you talk about what I said in the HR review yesterday. I know there was a memo that went out saying any discussion would lead to instant termination but I don’t feel that way. In fact I’m really glad what came out…well, came out.” Miles grinned and gestured to the man still standing by the barbeque. “Meet Jonathan, my partner for the last five years.”

  “Hello.” Phil nodded at the other man. Jonathan waved back and gave her a broad smile.

  Miles cleared his throat. “I, uh, don’t know what you did in there yesterday or even if it was you, but I never could have brought him here today if it hadn’t happened. I’m very grateful that I was outted.”

  Phil was at a loss for words which was probably a good thing. “Uh, you don’t say?” she murmured at last.

  “Yes, he does.” Jonathan came forward and put an arm around Miles’s neck. “And just for the record,” he said, winking at Phil. “He does look pretty spectacular naked.”

  Oh God—Phil had almost managed to forget the indecent remark she’d made when her birthday wish was first granted. I didn’t mean I really wanted to see him naked! she wanted to protest. It’s not like my biggest fantasy or anything. But she said, “I meant everything I said, you know. I really want to see Mister Miles completely buck naked—I fantasize about it all the time.”

  “Oh, er, really.” Davis Miles was looking uncomfortable but Jonathan seemed to find Phil’s statement hilarious.

  “You and me both, girlfriend,” he chuckled, patting Miles on the bottom. “You ought to see him when he does a strip tease for me. He starts out just wearing one of those crisp, sexy business suits and when he gets down to his hot little g-string—”

  “Jonathan, that’s enough,” Miles said sharply. “These are my coworkers, not a group of our friends on Margarita Tuesdays at Benji’s.”

  But Jonathan was on a roll. “Oh, and you should see him on Margarita Tuesdays, too. Get a few girly drinks into Davey here and he’ll do anything. And I do mean anything.”

  Phil was spared from making another embarrassing comment by a voice behind her.

  “Ahem. Philomena, I need to speak to you. In private, please.’

  Phil turned to see her boss Atwood Dickson Junior standing behind her looking uncomfortable. Predictably, he was wearing a bright orange Speedo that left little to the imagination. The vast, hairy slab of his belly overhung the garishly colored swimsuit and he appeared to have even more black, curly hair on his shoulders this year than he had the year before.

  “Hi,” she said. “Wow, that’s a great swimsuit. It doesn’t make me sick to my stomach at all to see all your body hair.”

  Dickson gave her a confused look, as though he was uncertain if he had been insulted or not. Jonathan stifled a giggle behind his hand. Davis Miles nudged his boyfriend sharply.

  “Ahem. Well then.” Dickson frowned. “As I was saying, I need to speak to you.”

  Phil nodded, afraid of what would happen if she opened her mouth. She allowed Dickson to lead the way around the main party and back toward one of the secluded little coves the high, feathery bushes made all along the beach. As she followed him, Phil tried not to notice how the hair on his back looked like a furry black jacket.

  When they were alone, Dickson turned to her. “Philomena, I wanted to speak to you about the review yesterday.”

  “Oh?” Phil asked carefully.

  “Yes. You left too early to hear the end of it or get the memo but it’s very important to certain, ahem, parties that what was said in that room remains there.”

  Phil tried to hide her grimace. Like she wanted to discuss her boss’s nasty furry porn habit with anyone she knew! He’s probably addicted to that kind of pornography because he’s so hairy himself!

  “Do you understand?” Dickson demanded.

  Phil wanted to simply nod, but her mouth opened its own accord and she said, “No, I don’t understand. Besides, I
want to discuss your addiction to Internet porn with everyone I know. I guess the fact that you’re practically wearing a fur coat made out of hair doesn’t have anything at all to do with your weird fetish.”

  “Why…I…You…” Dickson’s face began to turn red. He took a menacing step towards Phil.

  I’m sorry! she wanted to say. I didn’t mean anything I said just now. And I shouldn’t have said that I’d rather sleep with a goat than you the other day either.

  “I’m not sorry for anything I said,” she shouted, unable to help herself. “And I meant it when I said I’d rather have sex with a diseased billy goat than you.”

  “You little…I’ll have you fired for that! You’ll never work in this town again!” Dickson was looming over her.

  “Mister Dickson, I…I…” Phil shook her head frantically, but her boss was not to be appeased.

  “I don’t know what’s gotten into you this week, but I’ve had about enough of it!” he roared, clamping one meaty hand around her upper arm and pinching hard. “I don’t want to hear any more of your lip, you little bitch!”

  “Mister Dickson, please!” Phil slapped at him with the straw beach bag she was still clutching in one hand but there was no getting away from his punishing grip. Loose sand got into her flip-flops and she floundered helplessly.

  “Now, you listen to me, sweetheart,” he growled, yanking her forward so that they were nose to nose. Phil noticed distractedly that his coffee breath was worse than ever. Who drank coffee on the beach? “You’re going to apologize for all the bullshit you’ve been spouting and you’re going to swear to take everything you heard at that HR review to your grave or so help me God, I’ll—”

  “Or you’ll what? Ask your daddy to make you partner sooner because the paralegals have been talking behind your back?”

  Phil looked up to see Josh standing at the edge of the bushes that hid them from view. He was wearing the black swim trunks and his arms were crossed over his bare muscular chest. There was a frown on his face and his dark brown eyes held a dangerous glint which Phil had never seen there before.