“She was here and then… she just walked away,” I answered.
“Veronica, love, I’m so sorry but I just got pulled in to meetings for the rest of the day. I know you can handle it on your own. I’ll talk to Chloe and make sure she hands off everything to you.”
“OK,” I said, shell-shocked. I had gone from Caden supplying full reinforcements to no support.
“Thank you. You’re a doll,” he smiled and shut his door.
Looking through Chloe’s documents and emails, it became clear why she did not want to sit through a humiliating meeting with Caden and me. The timing of the launch was clearly compromised and there was no doubt that Chloe played a large part in screwing things up. She had not gotten the forecast in early enough to secure quantities at the US plant. The US had already launched and due to their wild success, were already out of stock, further putting our quantities at risk. The print creative had also been delayed because Chloe had not passed it by legal counsel and they were now uncomfortable with the ambiguous nature of the ad, claiming that people might misconstrue that it’s for their actual G-spot which may lead to improper use of the product. All in all, it was a mess.
I was nothing short of pulling out my hair and clawing out my eyes as I discovered one fire after another when Savannah stopped by my cube. She was sans Medusa head of snakes.
“How’s Gucci?” I asked.
“Gucci’s fine,” her expression remained stern.
“Oh, good. Did you call my parent’s vet?” I dared to ask.
“Yes, he was fairly competent.” I waited for her to continue but she didn’t.
“Well, enough about that,” she broke the awkward silence. I was relieved that my parent’s vet hadn’t inadvertently killed Gucci but I supposed that was the last I would ever hear of her pet.
“I was surprised by your Hot Girl Brand Ambassador proposal.” Savannah said.
“Oh?” I asked, holding my breath.
“Pleasantly,” she continued. “It’s not as horrible as I expected.”
I braced myself for her the onslaught of insulting feedback but instead she said crisply, “Approved.”
I wasn’t sure if I had heard wrong and blinked, stunned and bewildered.
“The state of your desk is unacceptable,” Savannah stated, observing the unusual disheveled nature of my desk.
Uh-oh. Here goes. “Chloe’s been pulled off the Gi-Spot launch so Caden gave it all to me. There are a lot of issues with it…so…yeah…”
“What!?” Savannah practically shrieked. I flinched, waiting for the inevitable beating. “What is he trying to do? Work you to death? I’m going to have a word with him!”
My mouth dropped open in shock as Savannah strode purposely in the direction of Caden’s office. Well, if the way to a bitch’s heart was through her bitch, maybe I should become better friends with Heidi and Jasmine to get on Chloe’s better side.
Savannah returned to my cube not more than five minutes later with a face that bore the look of compromise. “It would be good for your profile to keep the Gi-Spot launch. Caden has much praise for you —”
“He does?” I couldn’t help but interrupt enthusiastically.
Savannah paused and looked at me strangely. “Yes…about your work.”
“Really?” My school-girl infatuation continue to bubble from me like a just-popped bottle of champagne.
Savannah was now looking at me sternly. “Yes. I’m pleased that you are consistently competent.”
“What else did he say?” I rested my chin in my hand.
“I don’t know Veronica, would you like me to pass you a note at recess?” Savannah’s tone had fully assumed its familiar condescension.
I clammed up and shrunk back in my chair, humiliated.
“I thought that a fair compromise would be to get you some help,” she said, her voice losing a little of its edge. “Someone that you get along with.” I perked up. Maybe she got Stevie to help me! “So Sydney will be assisting you on the Gi-Spot launch.”
Noooooo!
“I’m sorry,” I said as Sydney appeared moments later at my cube, unimpressed. It wasn’t an apology to her. I really was sorry for myself that the one free hall pass I had gotten from Savannah was a wasted freebie. Sydney had the best work life balance of all Assistant Brand Managers and her reputation was such that she was very protective of it. “It’s a shit show.”
“I’d say,” Sydney was oddly composed. “Let’s see the damage.”
“Sydney, Chloe said an awful thing about Stevie. Is Stevie crashing and burning?”
As Sydney paused in her deliberation, I heard a resounding yes through the cube walls. It was the first word that my cube neighbour, a financial planner, had ever uttered to me. I had never heard him talk before and had assumed he didn’t speak English. He was a slight, very shy Asian man and so silent he seemed lifeless, a financial-bot. Most of the time I felt like the cube beside me was empty. Sydney and I looked at each other incredulously and promptly got up on my chairs to check it out.
“Excuse me,” I said politely, as Sydney and I peered over the cube. “Were you speaking to us?”
He looked up at us slowly. “Yes. Stevie’s in trouble. You have to help him before he gets fired.”
“We’ve tried but he refuses our help,” Sydney answered, to my surprise. I wasn’t aware that she had also tried to help Stevie.
“What should we do?” I asked him. We were so desperate that I was now seeking advice from someone that I didn’t think even think was alive five minutes ago.
“How the hell would I know? I’m just here to crunch numbers all day,” he responded. “But could I ask you a favour? Could you please, for the love of God, stop obsessing over Caden? It’s painful to listen to.”
“Oh, ah, sorry about that.” We hastily got off our chairs.
“Does everyone know about my crush?” I whispered to Sydney.
“Yes,” he answered through the cube walls.
Shit, I worded back to Sydney.
“I told you,” she answered. “OK, let’s get this shit over with. What Chloe fuck-ups do we need to fix?” She sat down and crossed her arms.
“Are you really going to help me?” I asked in disbelief.
“Of course, and the faster we do it the faster we can help Stevie.”
“You go, girl!” We heard my cube neighbour voice again. Sydney and I made disgusted faces at each other. Great that my financial-bot cube neighbour finally found his voice but did he not know cube etiquette? It also appeared that he was coming out of the closet. This could get messy.
Sydney asked that I explain each problem to her in minute detail. I was impressed with her quick resolution of the issues and decisive division of labour.
“You’re good,” I said, unable to hold back my surprise. “We make a good team.”
“Of course, did you ever doubt me?”
“Uh…kind of,” I admitted before my apparently all-knowing cube neighbour could pipe up. Beware the silent ones. Maybe they weren’t so silent for their shyness but for their keen observation.
“Just because I work decent hours doesn’t mean I don’t work. It just means that I work very efficiently. And I’m OK if something isn’t 100%. Nothing’s ever going to be perfect.”
“Right,” I answered. Unless it’s for Caden. Then it must be as perfect as him.
“Look,” Sydney lowered her voice. “My oldest sister was a stock broker. She made it to VP in ten years but worked insane hours. She didn’t have a life – she was lonely and sad and constantly stressed. Eventually, she had a nervous breakdown. It was really hard on the family. Now she’s a struggling actress/waitress in L.A. and she’s never been happier – or healthier. Life’s too short. It’s just a job. We’re not saving babies.” Sydney shrugged.
“That’s beautiful,” we heard my cube neighbour say. “And we all thought you were lazy.”
“That’s enough,” I said, adding more sternness than necessary to my voice so my irritation would p
ermeate through the cube walls.
“Thanks for sharing that,” I returned my attention to Sydney. “I get why you act the way you do now and I’m sorry if I judged you. You’re right – we’re just selling mascara, not saving babies. Now hopefully we can convince Stevie of that.”
“Yeah! Go save your baby,” the now ubiquitous voice of my cube neighbour said. As if he could sense our annoyance, he quickly added: “I won’t tell anyone.”
Chapter 17: Swag
The Gi-Spot party was next week and I couldn’t wait for Caden to fall in love with me, I mean, with my party planning prowess. I intercepted him (or pounced, as Sydney later described) at the coffee bar in the hopes of setting up a meeting with him to share Sydney’s and my brilliant work in setting the party back on track.
“Just tell me that everything’s perfect and I trust you,” he smiled at me.
“It’s all perfect,” I responded, blushing and smiling shyly.
“Good, that’s my girl,” he winked.
“You’re welcome,” Sydney, who was standing beside me, added loudly.
“Sydney – wonderful that you can help out. We’re in good hands with you. Listen ladies, I gotta dash. I have a meeting with Klaus. I’ll put in a good word for you,” Caden added with a wink.
I stood swooning in his beautiful aftermath while Sydney rolled her eyes. “Why does he wink so much? It’s like he has a twitch.”
“Oh come on, he’s just being fun,” I said, still gazing adoringly at the direction in which he left.
“If by fun you mean inappropriately flirtatious then yes, I would agree,” Sydney said. “Snap out of it, girlfriend.”
I laughed at her poor imitation of Stevie. “That was a horrible Stevie.”
“I know,” Sydney laughed. “I just can’t do gay.”
“I say we have an intervention. He hasn’t RSVP’ed to the Gi-Spot party yet which is shocking. He better not even think of not coming.”
“Stevie would never miss an opportunity to schmooze. All the Gisele Canada executives will be there. And the US GiGi executives too, so it’s a good chance for you to get some face time if you want to go to New York.”
In my quest to land Caden, I had almost forgotten about my initial goal to be transferred to New York. “How did you know that?” I asked, taken aback.
“I have my own Tracker. Mind of a steel trap.” Sydney tapped her forehead. “I’m kidding. You used to talk about it. Don’t you remember?”
“No,” I said, frowning in slight bewilderment.
“Hey, don’t let a man make you lose sight of your goals, much less a man you have no chance in hell with.”
I grappled as to why I had forgotten about my New York objective. Was Caden distracting me from my ambitions or was I changing?
“I’m sorry, I couldn’t help but overhear,” the barista said, her face full of sheepish sympathy. “Caden hits on all the girls at the coffee bar, even me. It’s kind of his thing. I’d be careful with him.”
OMG, even the barista knows.
My heart plummeting down to the cute pair of heels I just bought, I changed the topic. “Have you seen Stevie lately? How is he doing?”
With the unsolicited blessings of my cube neighbour, Sydney and I recently ambushed Stevie in his office only to be shooed out by his Director who immediately followed us like a tracking device, a corporate version of the ol’ ball and chain.
“I don’t see him much anymore, only when I’m on the early shift. He runs in for a quick coffee-to-go. Poor guy.”
“This is ridiculous, we need to disarm his Director and stage a stand-in at his office,” I turned to Sydney.
“After the party,” she said. “One thing at a time. You still need to take care of the swag bags.”
“You’re right. A party isn’t a party without the swag,” I replied with my newfound infinite wisdom of party planner extraordinaire.
If I couldn’t resurrect Stevie’s superstar reputation among his peers, perhaps I could resurrect my relationship with my girlfriends. Now that the Gi-Spot party was under control, I could dedicate more time to making good for my bad behaviour. Also, enough time had gone by that I was no longer squeamish with embarrassment.
I called Calista, prepping myself to apologize profusely. Instead, she gave me a rather absurd and irrelevant lecture about a frog in boiling water.
“Am I the frog in this story?” I asked, unsure of whether I should be offended.
“Are you going to jump out or boil yourself alive?”
“This is very morbid,” I commented. “But the Gi-Spot party is in a few days. I’d love for you to come.”
There was a long silence on the line. “Hello?” I asked.
“Thanks, but I have no desire to go,” Calista replied. “Good luck though.”
“Are you mad at me?” I asked.
“I don’t get it. Less than a year ago you wanted to save the world and now you’re selling mascara that apparently gives people cancer.”
“Well, that’s not proven,” I pointed out.
“Yeah, well, I hope it works out.”
“OK, I’ll call you after the party and let you know how it goes.”
That was weird. I didn’t know whether it was the PhD that had inspired Calista into talking in mysterious metaphors and bad omens but it was a little bit of a downer. It probably was best that she didn’t come to the Gi-Spot party.
“We have a problem,” I appeared frantically at Sydney’s cube the day before the Gi-Spot party with a deja vu of my first Marketing Meeting we botched.
“Oh no. What else did Chloe eff up?” Sydney looked up calmly from her computer.
“It’s not Chloe. Well, maybe just her bad luck charm. The products for the swag bag were supposed to arrive two days ago but they’re held up at the border.”
Sydney remained unfazed. “Believe it or not but this happens a lot because we’re always so last minute. Try calling the customs office directly instead of going through FedEx.”
After getting off the phone with the customs office and shamelessly promising the customs lady a shipment of our new Phat Lash mascara, I had to hand it to Sydney. She was really giving Stevie a run for his money. They were going to release the shipment first thing tomorrow morning.
To my relief, Stevie finally confirmed his attendance to the Gi-Spot party in person.
“Stevie, you’ve finally come out of hiding!” I exclaimed when he made a now rare personal appearance at my cube.
“Whatever are you whining about darling? Did you get my RSVP? I can’t remember if I sent it.”
“I didn’t get it but I assumed you were coming because otherwise I would whip your ass.” I pointed my finger at him in warning.
“Sounds like a good thing. Maybe I don’t want to go anymore.”
“Ew!” I laughed. Stevie’s humour wasn’t usually that crass. He sounded a bit like his horrible fiends Ruffian and Man Boobs.
“Put me out of my misery, what are you wearing to the party, my dear?”
“I think I’m going to wear that red DVF wrap dress I bought on our first shopping trip together. Remember, I wore it to the #1 Gisele party almost a year ago?”
Stevie looked horrified. “Wha – whaaaaat???” His voice rising to an alarming high pitch. “Are you sure you want to wear the same dress twice with the same audience?”
“No one remembers what I wore a year ago,” I said. “And if they do, I’m worried.” My response may have sounded confident but Stevie had planted the seed of panic in my heart.
“Well…at least it’s very environmentally responsible of you,” Stevie said, sounding unconvinced and mildly grossed out.
“Right. More like financially responsible. How are things?” I ventured to ask before he could convince me to invest in a new over-priced party dress.
“Swell, just super!” he responded gaily and with a tah! he was gone.
“He sounds fine,” I said out loud to convince myself more so than my cube neighbo
ur.
“When should I start freaking out?” I asked Sydney mid-afternoon when the products still hadn’t arrived. The Gi-Spot party was set to start at 7 pm that evening.
“Why?” Sydney was leaving work early to get ready and arrive a couple of hours before the party started at Berkley Church to help set up.
“The products haven’t arrived at the FedEx office yet.”
“What?!” I hadn’t seen Sydney this unsettled since I had mistakenly set up a makeup shrine in the wrong boardroom almost a year ago.
“How could you be so calm? You need to get on the phone with FedEx now!” Sydney’s eyes were wide with panic. “Forget it, I’ll do it.” Sydney dumped her bag and pushed me out of the way to reach for my phone.
“Sydney, relax,” I grabbed the phone from her. “I got it.” Why was everyone losing it on me? First Stevie, then Calista, now Sydney. “Seriously, I got it.”
She looked momentarily shocked at her uncharacteristic outburst and picked up her bag calmly. “Sorry, we put so much work into making this party happen, I just don’t want to screw up now. Just bring the swag straight to the church and we’ll pack the bags together. Here, take my car.” She handed me her car keys. “I’ll subway it.”
My mouth dropped open in disbelief. “Your Mini? Seriously?”
Sydney nodded.
“Cool! I’m totally going to be like Charlize Theron in the Italian Job, racing through the streets in my Mini!”
“Well, not exactly during rush hour,” Sydney pointed out. “The only thing that’s going to be racing is your blood pressure.”
“You’re such a buzz kill,” I pouted.
“Yeah, please don’t speed in my car,” Sydney advised me.
“You’re really cool,” I told her back as she left. It sounded sarcastic but I meant it. She turned her head and made a face.
Luckily, when I called FedEx, I spoke with a woman. All the easier to bribe her with makeup. The products were en route to arrive just before the FedEx office closed. I negotiated to keep the office open a half hour longer until 5:30 pm and raced over in Sydney’s Mini. Well, more like raced out of the parking garage and then within seconds crawled at an agonizingly slow pace, caught in downtown rush hour traffic. I could have walked faster in my three inch heels and tight pencil skirt. I tried to squash visions from the Italian Job of the little Mini shooting down sidewalks and alleyways before they became a reality.
Why I Love My Gay Boyfriend Page 14