by Trixie More
Their guest, for his part, looked pleased and a little awkward, as if finding himself out to dinner with the owner of Johansen Securities was more than a newly hired staffer could fathom.
“Dottie, I’d like you to meet Nathan, the newest addition to our marketing team,” her dad said.
“It’s lovely to meet you, Nathan,” said Dorothy. Marketing? That was her old position. She looked at the guy more closely. He looked familiar.
“Call me Nate.”
“OK, call me Dottie. How do you like your new position?”
“Oh, I like it very much!” His face confirmed the same. “I’m hoping that I can get up to speed quickly so that I can start adding value. The company has a lot of irons in the fire, so it’s pretty impressive.”
“Nonsense,” said her dad. “You added value the first day you took the job.” He turned to Dorothy. “Nate is the son of Tom Russel—his family owns Broader Developments—so having him on the team really gives depth to our network. The two families are very compatible.” Her dad looked like he just won first place at the fair. Now she knew why the guy looked familiar. His dad’s face was on every new subdivision billboard that ever went up in the state of Connecticut.
“Oh, that’s true Mr. Johansen and I’m happy to use my networks to forward the mutual agendas of the companies, but I’m more interested in adding value on my own merit. That’s why I didn’t want to start my career with my dad’s business. I want to build a name for myself.”
If anything, that reply made her dad’s smile even broader.
“That’s terrific. I’m sure my dad is glad to have you on board.” She turned to her dad. It was now or never. “And did you manage to fill my position yet, Dad?”
“Yes, we did.” He beamed and Dorothy’s heart fell. “As a matter of fact, that’s the job that Nate here has now.” Her father grinned broadly and patted her hand. “So no need to worry about the old man. See? We are going to be just fine. You just concentrate on your new job and making the most of it.”
“Oh. That’s, um, terrific, Dad.” Dorothy’s heart sank. She couldn’t do anything right, not even beg for her job back. She forced a bright smile. Maybe too bright, her mother, still seated, gave her a funny look. “Nate, I’m so happy you were able to step in. It sounds like the perfect fit.” Dorothy took a sip of water to give her hands something to do. “Excuse me. I think I’ll wash up before the food comes.” As she stood to leave she caught her mother looking at her speculatively.
She headed to the ladies’ room and washed up, the cool water making her feel better. After all, she did get to work with Edward, if only until Monday. Yes, she really wanted to do that. There was something about him that she liked. Not liked in a sexual way, that could not happen, liked in just a general way. Something about the powerful products he had assembled, the way he heated up when he talked about his company, attracted her. Yes, she liked him despite that exchange with the receptionist, or maybe because of it. She remembered the way he had been, big, wide hands splayed on the smooth glass desktop, jacket stretched over his wide shoulders and biceps. He had been focused intently and he certainly hadn’t minced words. She couldn’t remember the last time she had just said what she felt, when she hadn’t cared what she might need another person for, hadn’t been concerned about burning her bridges. Edward acted like he threw a match over his shoulder every time he left a room. She smiled at the thought and then sternly reminded herself that she did not need another ice king for a boyfriend. That was right out. Besides, she only had two days and she wasn’t going to be able to save his company. She was a third rate assistant on probation. He was going to hate her by the end of the day on Monday. Now that idea? She found very disturbing. She sighed and dried her hands. She had to get back to the table.
Dorothy’s return stopped what seemed to be an animated conversation between her mom and dad.
“Dottie, I was wondering how you are enjoying your new job? I was thinking how nicely you and Nate would complement each other’s work habits,” her mom said.
Oh no, her mom was trying to make everything great for everyone. It was her trademark habit. Somehow, she must have guessed at Dorothy’s concerns. Dorothy shot a quick glance at her father’s face to gauge his reaction. Confused was the best word to describe it. He loved his wife and respected her, so he wasn’t rushing to contradict her, but he clearly didn’t see where this was going.
“There might be an opportunity here to utilize both of you if you haven’t found your feet at CDP yet,” her mom said.
Dorothy practically cringed at those words. Not finding her feet at her job was one way of putting it. That was just too pathetic sounding. Adam’s words came back to her. You require a lot of time Dorothy. You are too much work for us. Lord. Had she been too much work for her father too? Would bringing her back and finding a place to wedge her into the family business really just be a burden on them? Her mom was looking at her expectantly over the table, a mild, compassionate expression on her face. Kathy’s question came back to her. Wasn’t she tired of being saved? She absolutely had to think of something positive to say. She couldn’t just burst into tears here at the table in front of Nate and her father.
Dorothy mentally searched for something to ground herself with, something to say. She was a silly thing to let this news wreck a nice dinner with her parents. There had been a bright spot in her day after all and she latched onto it.
“Oh, Mom, that is a wild idea but right now I have a new client that I’m really excited about.” She looked sideways at her father and saw his face rearrange into the certainty that was his normal state. This he understood; a person in love with her work. “We have a terrific new client we met with today. His name is Edward Walker and he has a business with some really cool products that are all aimed at carbon reclamation.” Dorothy spoke excitedly about the products and couldn’t help extending the enthusiasm to Ed himself. She caught herself gushing once or twice and had to rein herself in.
By the time their meal was finished, she felt certain she had convinced her mother that she was fine. She let Nate talk through their dessert and coffee and was stunned to observe how astute he was. She had done the job he now held for years, and while she had always had plenty of good ideas, she didn’t think she had ever been at dinner speaking about how many actual results she’d brought about. Nate had already out worked her and his chair wasn’t even warm yet. The good feelings speaking about Ed had given her faded away. She really hadn’t been a good employee, even for her father.
There was no way Dorothy could ask for her job back after that. She knew how important it was for the company’s future to have strong ties to real estate developers, which Nate had in spades. Besides, her father had been so animated as Nate and he discussed the action plans that Nate had put in place. She hadn’t really expected them to hold her job forever. And if she really needed their help, there was no doubt that they would welcome her home with open arms. But right here, at this moment, her father was so proud of her and so happy with her replacement, admitting that she was about to lose her job was too humiliating. And if she returned home with her tail between her legs, didn’t that make her the worst kind of slacker, the adult child returned home to eat her parent’s food and watch cartoons on the couch, a disappointment all around? Dorothy left the restaurant with a knot in her stomach. How would she survive if she lost her job? She really had no idea, but she knew one thing, she wasn’t going back home. She wasn’t going to be that daughter.
Chapter 4
Outside the restaurant, the night was getting damp, and even though she adored New York, Dorothy had to admit, it could become a pretty lonely place. Her parents were right behind her, coming out of the double doors, her mother tugging on a light jacket.
“Thanks for letting me crash your dinner party, Mom.” Dorothy gave her mom a great big hug. She turned to her father and gave him a peck on the cheek. “Love you, Dad.” She reached out and shook Nathan’s hand. “Great to mee
t you.”
Nate grinned broadly at her as he shook her hand. “You too.” A few more pleasantries and her folks set off to retrieve their car. Nathan hailed a cab and offered to share it. Dorothy told them all she would walk and enjoy the fresh air. And just like that, she was alone. She turned and walked past the subway entrance and headed off down the street. The dinner had left her feeling kinda like a fraud. Like she’d aged into adulthood but hadn’t quite found the knack of it. She wished she had a car to drive; it would be so nice to feel in control of something.
She meandered along the streets, taking a route home that would eventually lead past the bar where her new boyfriend, Flynn, worked. This was what she needed to cheer herself up, and she smiled, thinking how glad he’d be to see her. Their relationship was still really new, just a couple of dates old.
By now she was nearing the bar where he worked. That was how they had met, she had stopped in for a drink one evening with Allie, and Flynn had been working. With a charming manner and those long dimples bracing his mouth, he had Dorothy eating out of his hand within minutes. So, when he asked for her number, she didn’t think about it long before handing it over.
Thinking of seeing him again gave her nervous butterflies and she pushed into the bar feeling lighter than she had in hours.
Behind the bar, a recessed light shone down upon the register area and the familiar sandy hair. Flynn was leaning on the bar, his denim shirt sleeves rolled up his lean forearms. He had a cockeyed smile on his face and he was talking to a brunette with boobs the size of the balloons in the Macy’s parade. A flare of jealousy hit Dorothy but she quickly squashed it. After all, they’d only had a couple of dates and they hadn’t slept together yet. But yet was the operative word in that thought and she had every intention of eventually having a go at Flynn. She moved to the bar to stake her claim.
Flynn noticed her approach as she neared and instead of the smile she hoped for, a flash of irritation crossed his lean face. She felt her feet slow a little and rethought the stool she was headed for. Instead of coming up next to the brunette, she veered awkwardly away and sat down about four stools over. She settled herself and dug two ten-dollar bills out of the bottom of her purse. When she looked over at Flynn he was speaking softly to the other woman but he noticed Dorothy’s gaze right away and he gave her a quick look, this time appearing puzzled. For the love of … the guy should make up his mind. She leaned her elbows on the bar and flicked a ten onto the black polished surface, the belly to the bar equivalent of “you’re not here to take my money but who gives a shit?” Then she spun the stool lazily and took in the view of the rest of the bar. There were a couple of guys in jeans and untucked button-down shirts playing pool. Half a dozen tables had people at them and about four more stood empty. At the bar only three people were sitting, Dorothy, the brunette booby and some guy in his forties who looked like he was the world’s oldest skater. She swung back to the bar and this time, Flynn pushed away from his conversation and strolled over. It looked like two dates meant more to her than it had to him. Good ol’ Dot. Wrong again.
“How ya doin’, Dot?”
“Worst day of my life so far.” She shrugged. “Can I get a Bud?” As soon as she said the words, her mind scrambled for a way to undo them. After all, how could this be her worst day? Day number three hundred and twenty-seven had been the worst day of her life. Everything else, including today, was just gravy.
“Worst day, huh?” He bent down, not noticing Dorothy’s negative shake of the head, and came up with a long neck, flicking the top off with a hit to the bottle opener. “Why’s that?” The frosty brown bottle thunked into the bar top. Flynn pushed a bowl of peanuts toward her.
She took a long drink, the icy wet smoothness flowing down her throat. You can’t really cry when you’re chugging a beer. The crying comes when you stop drinking, she thought. So she’d better keep drinking. She relaxed her throat and let the beer pour down, concentrating on keeping her breathing smooth and everything relaxed. She plunked the empty down on the bar. “Again.”
At some point, a girl could just stop caring. Maybe drop a match behind her when she left.
Flynn’s mouth twitched down and his brow raised as if to say, not bad, and then he set another on the bar, picked up the ten, rang up the tab and brought her back a dollar.
“Sure you’re not stiffing yourself?” Dorothy asked and then she snorted, the double entendre there striking her funny. Flynn frowned and golly gee, Dorothy hadn’t even had to say “Get it?” She felt good again and laughed. “Or maybe you’re stiffing your booby, I mean buddy, there.”
She didn’t have to ask “Do ya get it?” for that one either; he got it all right.
“How much did you have to drink before you got here, Dorothy?” Behind him, she could see the profile of the brunette, her cheek flushed pinkly.
“Oops. I think I spoke too loud,” Dorothy said. She watched Flynn over the top of the bottle this time. The second bottle of Bud hit the bar empty after another run of smooth, long, swallows. Her head swam. She picked up the bottle and licked around the top of it, never taking her eyes off Flynn. She lifted her chin a little and hissed, “Another.” He hesitated and she added, “Please,” but her tone of voice was snide.
“Dorothy, this isn’t like you. I think you’ve had plenty.” He tossed the bottle in the trash and wiped his hands on the bar towel, glancing at the brunette as he did so. Dorothy couldn’t tell exactly what that look meant, but it was somewhere in the neighborhood of “Give me five minutes and I’ll be rid of this issue”.
Out loud he said, “Do you want me to call you a taxi?”
“No,” she said. “I want another beer.”
“Well you’re not getting one, I’m cutting you off.”
“For what? Being cheeky? Maybe I should moon you so you’ll know what cheeky really is.” She laughed.
“Time to go, Dorothy.” He stood there, behind that bar, judging her. He was a bartender. She was … well, she was an advertising intern who was too much work to have around. Maybe she shouldn’t be flinging matches.
“Flynn,” she said softly. “I thought we were dating.”
He looked at her in amazement. “We went to the movies. I work in a bar.” He shoved his hands into his jeans pockets. “Look. I work in a bar. I meet new people, new women, every day. Every day.” He looked at her expectantly. Dorothy folded her arms on the bar and laid her head on them.
The long suffering sigh that rang out from Flynn said it all. “You didn’t think we were starting something?” she asked from behind her folded arms.
“You have had way too much, Dorothy. You’re a nice girl. I’m calling you a cab.”
Oh Lord. Not only was she too much work to have around, now she was a “nice girl.” Would this day never end?
He came out from behind the bar, calling to the only waitress to watch the shop and he stalked out to the curb with Dorothy trailing behind him. He hailed the cab and bundled her into it, pausing only to ask her address and relay it to the driver. The door shut and he was gone.
The cab smelled stale and Dorothy’s stomach protested the movement, the smell, the beer, all of it. Frankly so did Dorothy. She was kidding herself in every part of her life. She wasn’t an accomplished marketing professional. She was a drain on resources. She sniffled to herself in the back seat of the cab as it rolled down the block. She wasn’t Daddy’s best little helper, she was a spoiled child who hadn’t understood that she needed to work much harder. And she wasn’t a woman with a boyfriend named Flynn. She was a desperate, lonely and slightly delusional girl fooling herself about her situation. By the time the cab got to her door, she was also a weeping, self-pitying wreck, too far gone to be embarrassed as she paid the cab driver and headed upstairs.
Allie found her on their sofa about thirty minutes later.
“Hi, Dottie,” she called as she came in the front door. “Sorry about this morning.” Dorothy could hear Allie kicking off her shoes and ditch
ing her coat. Then the soft sound of bare feet on wood and she could feel that Allie was in the living room. Dorothy didn’t move. She stayed lying on her back with an arm flung over her face.
“Dottie?” Allie came closer and touched her arm. “Are you OK?”
There was no way out of it, so Dorothy sat up and blew her nose hard. “I had a bad day.”
Relief crossed Allie’s face. “Bad days we can handle right here,” she joked. “No nine-one-one call needed.” She turned to head to the little kitchen. “I’ll get us a glass of wine and we can discuss it.”
“No! None for me—just water.”
Allie returned and settled into the extra-large chair with her legs pulled up beneath her. “So, what is this all about?”
Dorothy explained her mess of a day, leaving out any mention of the morning’s events in the hallway, and ended up sniffling again when she got to the humiliating episode with Flynn. “I don’t know why I acted like that. I just feel, I can’t do anything right, I don’t have anyone to help me, I’m going to be out of work and then I’ll have to leave this place and I don’t know … just all of it.” More tears dribbled down her cheeks and she wiped them away angrily. “And on top of all of it, I have no right to feel sorry for myself whatsoever!”
“Well you’re right about that,” Allie said. Her face was compassionate but not alarmed. “You have more help and resources available to you than three quarters of the people out there.” She smiled a little. “What makes you think you can’t do this? Sounds like you have until Monday to pull together a presentation for this company and then, if you get the job, all your problems will be solved.” She paused. “Except for Flynn, but he’s replaceable.”
Allie grabbed her cell phone off the table. “What was the name of this company again?” Dorothy told her and she proceeded to look up Ed’s company. “Hey, these are some pretty cool products. Maybe you can do this.”