Kittenfish: An Enemies-to-Lovers Romantic Comedy

by Brenda Lowder

  When I get to my desk, Blaire is already there. Sitting in my seat. With her feet up.

  “So what is it today?” I ask, plopping down in the side chair in my cubicle. “Will you be leading a three-ring circus? Or swinging from the chandeliers?”

  She throws her head back and stares at the ceiling. “God, I wish we had chandeliers!”

  I picture what Blaire might want to do on them and am really glad we don’t have chandeliers.

  “Blaire!” Troy bursts into my cubicle, completely ignoring me in favor of the incendiary brunette at my station.

  She sits up and sticks the end of a pen in her mouth—my pen—just so she can pull it out and say languorously, “Yes, Troy?”

  “I can’t believe you’re doing this.” His neck is red and blotchy and there’s a vein throbbing there. He’s breathing hard as if he ran to find her.

  Blaire puts her feet on the floor, and her eyes fill with tenderness. “It’s the only way.”

  Troy gives an outraged bark of laughter. “In what universe? Okay, I forgot. In your mixed-up, crazy, living-on-the-edge Blaire universe.” He scrubs his hands through his short hair, and it sticks up, giving him an even more harried appearance.

  “I’m so sorry I had to involve you.” She shrugs like it’s all out of her control, but her lip trembles, and I know she cares more than she’s revealing.

  “Involve me? Are you kidding? We’re getting married! I’m very much involved here.” He slaps a hand on my desk.

  I gasp. “You’re getting married?”

  “Thanks a lot, Troy,” Blaire says sarcastically. “Marissa’s my friend. I wanted to be the one to tell her. Besides, it was supposed to be a surprise.”

  “A surprise? What? A nice surprise like getting hit with an HR complaint?”

  Blaire complained about Troy to HR? I wish I had popcorn. She’s managing to achieve new heights of drama here. Ronnie should watch out before HBO scoops up Blaire and her brand of crazy.

  “I can’t believe you’re filing complaints against your secret fiancé,” I say. No one will believe it. Anyone who has ever met Blaire would know she’s the one who needs to be complained about.

  “She didn’t,” Troy says. “She forged a complaint from me accusing her of creating a hostile work environment. And guess what? Everyone believes it.”

  Oh, well, yeah. Of course they do. Because it’s totally what she does.

  “Ronnie is beginning termination procedures as we speak. She’s thrilled to be firing Blaire.”

  “And I’m thrilled to finally get fired.” Blaire lifts her chin and her smile is beatific.

  Troy jabs a finger in the air. “No, Blaire. You don’t get to be happy about this. This is ridiculous. You’re destroying us.”

  “Don’t worry, baby. It’s all my fault.” She strokes a hand down his strong forearm.

  He doesn’t soften, much. “Of course it is, damn it. But we’ve got to fix it."

  “Why don’t you just withdraw the complaint?” I ask him.

  They argue over each other at that suggestion. Troy eventually makes himself heard. “Because they wouldn’t let me. They already believe it. Everyone believes it. Ronnie thinks she’s protecting me from Blaire, damn it.”

  Blaire turns to me and leans forward. “Marissa, let’s not forget that I’ve been trying to get fired here. Don’t undo my good work. Everything’s finally paying off for me.” She’s obviously playing defense and offense at the same time.

  “At my expense!” Troy hits the side of the cubicle wall with his open palm, and I worry about its ability to remain vertical.

  “Oh, baby, don’t take it so hard.” Blaire rises and with a slinky motion leans against Troy’s chest. “Come here and let me aggravate your complaints.”

  He freezes and puts his hands in the air, refusing to touch her. “Blaire, I can’t even look at you right now.” But he gives her one more pained glance before stalking away.

  Blaire sinks back into my chair, and I shake my head at her.

  “What?” she demands.

  I scoot my chair closer. “At some point you’ve got to ask yourself if all the drama is worth it.”

  “You should tell yourself that there little nugget of wisdom, Giselle.”

  I gasp for the third time this hour. “How do you—”

  “Kya called me,” she interrupts. “I have to hand it to you, Marissa. I had no idea you had it in you.”

  I shrug. “Yeah. I didn’t really know I did either.”

  “The thing I don’t get, though,” Blaire says slowly, “is why Kya’s not more upset about it. You’d think she’d see it as a giant betrayal of her precious brother.”

  “Yeah. That’s been bothering me too.” I tap my fingers on my armrest.

  “My guess?” Blaire raises her eyebrows and gives me a shrewd look. “She’s got a big punishment planned for you.”

  My belly squirms. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

  “You know how much she idolizes Tarek.” She nods, an idea forming behind her calculating eyes. “She really laid the guilt on thick to get you to go rock climbing with her. Make sure she’s not in charge of your ropes. She’s going to get you, bad.” She makes a cutting motion with her hand. “Really bad.”

  I shiver. It’s going to be a rocky climb.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  I arrive at Brandon’s house five minutes early on Saturday night and wait in my car until it’s exactly six forty-five before walking up to his door. It opens before I even knock.

  “Hey.” Brandon’s mouth is set in a firm line. He wiggles through the partially open door without revealing an inch of interior environment behind him. At my quizzical expression, he says, “I saw you pull up. I’m all ready. What took you so long?”

  “I had to check my email.” I crane my neck to try to peer past him into his house and see what he’s hiding.

  He shuts the door firmly and narrows his eyes at me, obviously aware that I’m trying to spy. “We should go.”

  “Definitely. Those rocks aren’t going to climb themselves.”

  Brandon shoots me a look. I giggle nervously and unlock my car. I feel like I’m cast in the man’s role on our date here since I’m picking him up. For a brief moment I think about opening the passenger side door for him like a gentleman, but, no, that’s going too far. I get in and start the car.

  “Thanks for coming to get me.” He clicks his seatbelt into place.

  “Sure thing. I figured if I was making you go, the least I could do is give you a ride.”

  He glances at me sideways. “As long as I’m the only one you’re dating tonight, I’m good with it.”

  “What?” I ask, confused.

  “Nothing.”

  When we get to Adrenaline Altitude, Kya’s car is already in the parking lot. Although there’s an empty space next to her, I choose not to park in it because Kya’s been known to throw car doors wide unthinkingly and dole out door dings with abandon. I’ve seen it happen. And what intentional damage might she do now that she knows I’m Giselle? I shudder for my paint job.

  Kya and Chloe meet us at the door. “Hey! Glad you guys could make it!” Kya includes both Brandon and me in her excited smile, and I hope Blaire’s all wrong about the secret, violent revenge Kya is planning to take on me for being Giselle.

  “Me too. And this must be Chloe,” I say to the petite Asian woman with the pixie haircut. “I’m so happy to meet you. I’m Marissa and this is my, um, Brandon.”

  “Great to meet y’all.” Her thick rural Georgia accent is unexpected and sweet. I already like her more than Trina.

  Kya clasps her hands. “Should we get started?”

  We follow Kya over to the left side of the giant faux rock face where a wiry instructor waits to assist us into our harnesses.

  I glance back at the door, wondering if Tarek will walk through it, even though Kya promised she wouldn’t invite him if I brought Brandon. I don’t even know why I’m looking. It’s not that
I want him to show up. That would be awkward. I’m trying to avoid him, right?

  I’ve never been rock climbing before. I gaze up at the vertical rock wall and panic punches me in the ribs. Sure, it has bubble-gum colored hand and foot holds to make you think it’s so easy a kid could do it, but I’m not fooled. The rock face stretches up to the faraway ceiling. I’ll get a nosebleed and altitude sickness before I reach the top. If I even make it that far.

  I study Kya for signs that she’s carrying a pair of scissors or other cutting device that could sever my rope, but I don’t see anything. She’s chatting with Chloe and doesn’t seem to be giving me any thought. Unless that’s just a cover for the C-4 explosives she already planted.

  Brandon bends, puts his palms on the floor, and begins stretching. Then he jogs in place before doing some calf and arm stretches. He’s a warrior, gathering strength for the conquest. He catches my gaze and smiles, his eyes sparkling with the challenge. He rubs his hands together. “Let’s do this.”

  “Not so fast, sport,” Tom, our action-figure instructor, says. “There’s the safety demo first.”

  Brandon’s enthusiasm is slightly dimmed, but we participate in Tom’s life-saving demo and are ready to go.

  The structure is big enough that the four of us could climb at the same time, but I’m nervous and want to watch Kya and Chloe go first. And test the ropes.

  Brandon and I watch them ascend, reaching for the holds, giggling and making eyes at each other.

  “Looks like they’re hitting it off,” Brandon says, reading my mind. The way he says it makes me wonder if there isn’t a trace of envy in his tone, and I think about whether I’ve given Brandon enough attention for being the person he is and not a stand-in for someone else.

  “How was work today?” I ask.

  “Good. Really good. In fact, I got a new program that…”

  He goes on to tell me more, and I zone out. It’s not that his conversation is boring. I’m interested in him and should therefore show interest in the things he likes and does. But I’d say this conversation isn’t my preference. I’d much rather be watching Outlander. Or reading the book. I think about Tarek reading the book, and then I think about Tarek doing other things and really forget to listen to what Brandon is saying.

  The motion of the front door catches my eye, and I pivot to watch the tall man with the brown hair and chest-outlining shirt amble in. My breath catches. Tarek. He’s here after all. A warm flush steals up my neck.

  The man approaches the front desk and turns. My thumping heart stutters. It’s not Tarek. It’s just some guy. Some guy who’s not half as attractive as Tarek.

  “That’s really great,” I say to Brandon about whatever he’s now saying.

  “Okay, you two are up.” Kya unstraps her harness and beams at us. She cuts her eyes to Chloe, and I think that Trina has been well and truly forgotten.

  “I’m ready!” I’m not ready, but Tom helps me strap into the harness. Now I have to go or completely renege on the night’s activity. Brandon gets strapped in, and I’m impressed by his lack of fear. Once the guy commits, he commits. Despite his resistance on the phone, he’s been downright gung ho to go rock climbing.

  We climb.

  It’s slow going for me as I look for the footholds, marked in green for beginners like me. But I’m keeping up with Brandon and soon we’re two-thirds of the way up Plastic Mountain.

  I feel pretty good. I’m going to make it to the top. My rope feels secure, and Kya doesn’t seem mad at me. Maybe I’ll even beat Brandon to the top if I just go a little faster.

  Then I slip.

  The harness supports me, but I hear a screeching rip of fabric, and I scream. I can’t see it, but from the violence of the tearing sound, my rope cord is hanging on by a thread. I keep screaming, regretting the nachos supreme I had at Taco Bell last night. The ounce or two weight gain might be the difference that will snap the remaining strands of the rope and plummet me to my death.

  Just when I know the rope’s going to break, and I’m going to smack my face into a concrete—okay, covered by a thick pad—floor, Brandon catches me. He has let go of the wall and holds me midair, arms wrapped around me protectively.

  I clutch him desperately, my body flooding with relief. I’m suddenly safe in his embrace, and there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.

  We’re lowered to the floor with the help of Tom and another Adrenaline Altitude employee—a girl who’s judging me with narrowed eyes like I didn’t just dodge death because of their faulty, unraveling—tampered with?—ropes.

  I’m breathing into a paper bag someone has handed me. It’s a minute before I can take in air without gulping. When my lungs have relaxed enough that I’m no longer dying, I try to make sense of the conversation.

  “We really don’t recommend this activity for people with extreme fear of heights.”

  Tom and judgmental girl are looking at me like I’m the problem and not their deficient equipment.

  “Extreme fear of heights? Excuse me, but it was your flimsy rope that tore enough that I would have been dropped to my death if Brandon hadn’t saved me.” I look around at Kya, Chloe, and Brandon for backup, but they’re all avoiding my gaze.

  “You weren’t going to fall to your death,” the mean girl whose nametag reads “Wendy” says.

  “The rope was breaking,” I insist with my chin in the air. “I heard it.”

  They show me the rope, which seems intact. I pull on it, hard. It doesn’t give. Did they replace it when I was breathing into the paper bag? A place like this is probably willing to do anything to avoid liability. They don’t want it to get out that their ropes are splitting left and right, and it’s only thanks to Brandon’s surprising agility that I’m not a smushed bloody stain on their blue-padded concrete floor.

  “Um, Marissa?”

  Kya puts her hand on my shoulder. “You tore your blouse, sweetie.”

  She fingers the lightweight, breezy cotton-polyester blend blouse where it’s split at my shoulder.

  “Must have torn when your harness caught you when you slipped.”

  I look at my shoulder and examine the tear in the light fabric which now reveals my pink bra strap. I don’t care about my torn blouse. I just escaped death. Plus, I’m wearing one of my pretty bras.

  “You were one foot off the ground that whole time you were screaming,” Wendy says in a condescending tone. “If you’d opened your eyes, you would’ve seen.”

  “We lowered you down,” Tom says. “You would’ve just had to put your feet on the ground.”

  “So Brandon let go for nothing? I thought he saved me.” I look to Brandon to gauge whether Wendy and Tom are downplaying the danger I was in, but Brandon’s expression is sheepish.

  “Well, maybe there was no physical danger,” he says, “But you seemed really distressed.”

  The sweetness in his face makes my heart turn over, and I run into his arms.

  “My hero.”

  ∞∞∞

  After my near-fatality, we go to a nearby spot for dinner.

  Brandon is the most relaxed I’ve ever seen him. I guess being my hero agrees with him. He’s laughing and joking with Kya and Chloe and fitting right in.

  We slide into a large, circular booth. I scoot all the way through and end up on the end, followed by Kya, then Chloe and Brandon. I’m not sitting next to my date, but it’s better for conversation since I can see him across the table. I order comfort food—chicken fried steak, mashed potatoes and gravy, with a side of fried okra and a Coke. I’m ordering what I want, dammit. I almost died, after all. Well, it felt like it. And as far as burning off calories with adrenaline goes, I’m sure it’s the same thing.

  Our waiter brings us water just as Kya’s phone rings. She rejects the call, but it immediately rings again. She stares at the screen, and I lean over to read the caller ID.

  Tarek.

  Kya catches me looking and rejects the call again, but, when it rings a third time, sh
e answers.

  Chloe and Brandon are talking about computers, so I listen in on Kya’s conversation without feeling guilty about not talking to Brandon.

  “What?” Kya answers. I look around the room at the other diners, pretending I’m not eavesdropping. Kya’s voice lowers an octave. “I’m out.” She listens for a sec. “Yeah. And with Chloe.” Kya glances at me, which I notice from the corner of my eye. “She’s got a date.”

  Aha. He is asking about me. A frisson of excitement bubbles in my stomach, but I tell myself not to get too carried away. I shouldn’t care that Tarek is asking about me. I don’t care, I mean.

  I wave at Brandon. He waves back and smiles before continuing with what he was saying to Chloe.

  “No way,” Kya whispers angrily into the phone. “You figure it out. It’s none of my business. I’m not—”

  She breaks off to listen for a minute, and I crane my neck in her direction without looking right at her.

  “Yes. Very interested.”

  Interested? In what? What was Tarek talking about? Who was he interested in? Or was someone interested in him?

  I’m looking straight at Kya now while she’s having her incomprehensible conversation. She turns to me and says, “Here,” and thrusts her phone at me.

  I recoil. “What?”

  She waves the cell at me, wiggling it in my face. “Tarek wants to talk to you.”

  I take it from her gingerly and glance at Brandon and Chloe who are still talking, waving their arms to describe whatever computer part they’re discussing.

  “Hello?” I pivot away from the group and swing my legs over the edge of the booth seat, ready to find somewhere private to talk if the conversation turns personal.

  “Hi, Marissa.” Tarek’s voice sounds like he’s confirming it’s me, kind of like he’s not sure I’d really be on the phone with him. Have I been avoiding him so much?

  “Yeah. Hi,” I say. The waiter delivers my dinner along with the rest of the entrées for the table, and Brandon notices I’m on the phone. I mouth the word “Sorry” to him, and he nods in understanding.