Fake It Till You Make It

by M. Ullrich

  “Then I think I should tell you no one calls me Ms. Applegate.” Genevieve relaxed her shoulders and crossed one leg over the other. “Genevieve will work, but most people call me Gen.” Harper turned her lips up slightly, the motion barely qualifying as a smile, but Genevieve was struck by how her whole face softened.

  Harper finally took her seat behind the desk. Genevieve watched as she moved, noting the woman’s tall, slender build. The cut of her charcoal suit accentuated her broad shoulders, and the cobalt shirt she wore did wonders for her already captivating gray eyes. Genevieve looked away abruptly so she wasn’t caught staring. She looked at her own reflection in a decorative mirror set off to the side of the room. Her cheeks were rosy with a natural blush, and the dark rings of perspiration around the armpits of her shirt showed the pressure of the moment. Genevieve’s right hand flew to the crease of her left arm to assess the damage and cover it up. She cursed her choice of silk blends and a color that changed when dampened.

  “Genevieve?”

  “Hmm?” She looked back to Harper with wide eyes and embarrassment coloring her face. She could have fixed this by putting her jacket on, if only she hadn’t left it in the bathroom. “Damn it,” Genevieve said under her breath.

  “I’m sorry?” Harper looked on with obvious concern.

  “Nothing, I’m sorry.” Genevieve clamped her arms tightly against her torso and tried her best to feign a relaxed demeanor. “It’s warmer than I expected it to be today.”

  “It’s the windows.” Harper turned in her chair and motioned to the large panes of perfectly clear glass. “They let in so much sun on days like this, it tends to feel like we’re kept in a warming box. I can get you a bottle of cold water.” Harper started to stand.

  “No, I’m fine.” Genevieve waved off her concern and offer, but tried to keep her arms down. “Thank you.”

  “If you say so.” Harper sat back and looked at Genevieve silently for a moment before speaking. “I looked over your resume. You’ve been working at,” She looked at the paper in front of her briefly, “The Morning Sunrise for over five years now. You must’ve become quite the asset there.”

  “I wouldn’t say that.” Genevieve reminded herself she had to balance confidence and modesty. “But they knew they could rely on me and my flexibility.”

  “What made you look elsewhere?”

  Genevieve shrugged. “I grew tired of the same old, same old. I’m ready to spread my wings and see exactly where my aforementioned flexibility could take me.”

  Harper picked up a pen and tapped it against the hard surface of the desk. “What did you do before this job?”

  “I worked for my school paper and did some freelance writing. You’ll see on my resume that I’m very active with several different blogs of varying subject matter across the web.”

  “I noticed.” Harper dropped her pen and crossed her arms over her chest. When the silence stretched on, Genevieve’s nerves grew shaky. They looked at one another, and Genevieve felt distinctly like she was being evaluated.

  “Ms. Davies, I—”

  “We agreed on Harper, Genevieve.” Genevieve muttered an apology and Harper continued smoothly, “I have to be honest with you.” Genevieve’s spirits started to sink. “Your resume, though impressive in its own right, doesn’t necessarily scream Out Shore material.”

  “Then why did you call me in?” She tried to keep the tightness from her voice, but she still sounded curt.

  “Because that made you stand out from the other applicants. I’m constantly being told what other publications did and how other journalists and writers wrote about A, B, and C to help their employers succeed, but never once have I met an applicant so straightforward about wanting this job for their own personal gain. Your cover letter was about what a position here would mean for your own career growth. You believe Out Shore would do that for you?”

  “Absolutely,” Genevieve said without hesitation.

  “Out Shore Magazine is everything to me, and my goal is for it to become the premier LGBT publication on the East Coast, if not nationwide. I want to rival The Advocate and leave just as great a legacy behind.” Harper leveled Genevieve with a steely gaze that hinted at the seriousness of her plans. “It seems that you already know what we have to offer, so what can you bring to the table that’ll help make that happen?”

  Genevieve’s head was spinning but her vision was becoming clearer than ever. Her surroundings came into focus, minute details of rainbow flags and Pride Parade centerfolds now front and center in those framed covers. Harper’s short cropped and perfectly styled hair, menswear fashion, and makeup-free face also made more sense. Androgynous, she thought. She’d read the word somewhere before and was finally able to put it in place. She kicked herself. But Harper was expecting an answer.

  “What I can offer is…” Genevieve looked beyond Harper, out to the sprawling landscape outside the large window. An eclectic city just waited to be discovered, and the promise of sandy beaches sat upon the horizon. She needed to make this move. Confidence and modesty, she reminded herself.

  “As a young lesbian from a small, conservative community, I believe I can offer readers a fresh perspective on daily life. This certainly isn’t Milan, Pennsylvania, anymore, and I do believe a lot of women and men can identify with this type of significant life change.” She spoke seamlessly, and when the words stopped flowing, Genevieve took a deep breath, hoping to steady the dizzy life changes scrambling her unsteady mind.

  Harper’s reaction was unreadable at first. The corner of her mouth twitched, hinting at a smirk. Genevieve waited patiently for the woman across from her to seal her fate, one way or another.

  “Well, Genevieve, when can you start?”

  Genevieve smiled brightly. “Right away!” Her enthusiasm must’ve been contagious because Harper’s grin matched her own. I did it! Genevieve thought as she stood unsteadily once she reached her full height. Harper escorted Genevieve back into the open office and she took stock again of her new workplace and each smiling face that greeted her politely. I really did it.

  Step Three

  Don’t Offer Up Too Much Information

  “I wish you would tell me more about this new job.”

  “You know how I feel about jinxing things, Jeremy,” Genevieve said as she directed him up the stairs. “I feel good about it. Really good.”

  “I bet you told Chloe all about it,” Jeremy said. His jealousy toward Chloe never ceased to amaze Genevieve. Yes, she had a tendency to share every detail of her life with her best friend first, but not even Chloe was privy to this.

  “It’s a cultural magazine that’s really making its mark amongst similar publications. That’s all I told Chloe, and that’s all I’m telling you.” Genevieve shoved Jeremy playfully, and he fumbled the box in his hands as he set it down.

  “Fine,” he said, raising his hands in surrender. “I think that’s the last one.”

  “Fifty small boxes. I could’ve done it in six large ones.” Genevieve surveyed the sea of brown cubes that filled her new small, one-bedroom apartment. She put her hands on her hips. “My mother insisted there’s a special packing technique I’m unaware of.”

  “Maybe there is.” Jeremy turned to Genevieve. He wrapped his arms around Genevieve’s slim waist and pulled her close. “Or maybe she just wanted you to take your time packing so you’d stick around longer.”

  Genevieve sank into Jeremy’s embrace easily. He was a husky man and stood at just over six foot three, which was a substantial difference from her petite, five-foot-two build. She felt safe with him. Comfortable. “That’s a devious plan.”

  “We’re all going to miss you.”

  “I’m five hours away,” Genevieve said as she pushed back from him. “It’s not cross-country.”

  Jeremy looked at his watch and kissed the top of Genevieve’s head. “That’s five hours I better start tackling now. I’m sorry I can’t spend the night with you.” Jeremy looked genuinely distraught
.

  “It’s okay,” Genevieve reassured him, fighting the relief and happiness she felt at having her first night to herself from appearing on her face. She hugged her boyfriend one last time before leading him to the door, where she stood on her toes to kiss him good-bye. She squealed in surprise when he lifted her off her feet and pressed her against the hardwood of her door. He kissed her deeply, and when he pulled back, a bright smile lit his boyish face.

  “I’m really going to miss you, Gen.” He kissed her again and set her back on her feet. “I love you.”

  “Love you, too.” She watched as he trotted to his truck.

  Genevieve shut the door quietly. Her slight smile faded as she thought about her preparations for the next day. In less than twenty-four hours, she would be a different Genevieve.

  *

  8:49 am. Genevieve looked at the face of her watch for the third time in less than two minutes and back to the glass double doors before her. She believed arriving ten minutes early was an easy display of professionalism and made a great first impression.

  Genevieve started a mental checklist, reviewing the little details about her backstory in preparation for making small talk as a newbie. Never use pronouns when talking about relationships. Everything else can remain the same. She inhaled the clean September air deeply. Just don’t forget that you’re a lesbian now. She fidgeted with a thin silver ring on her middle finger, spinning it around and around as she controlled her breathing.

  “Are you going to stand there all day? Some of us have a job to get to.” Genevieve started at the sudden voice that barked from behind her. She turned and came face-to-face with a stunning redhead, though the woman’s natural beauty did little to soften her snarl.

  “I’m sorry.” Genevieve moved to the side and let the woman pass. Her apology went unacknowledged. When she looked at her watch again, she realized she’d only be five minutes early. “Damn.” She didn’t get more than fifty feet into the office before Dana greeted her.

  “Good morning, Ms. Applegate.”

  Genevieve smiled politely and adjusted the purse she had slung on her left shoulder. “Call me Gen, please.”

  “Good morning, Gen.” Dana didn’t miss a beat. “Welcome to Out Shore Magazine. I’ll take you on a quick tour of the office, making sure you know where all the important things are.” Genevieve found keeping up with the young assistant hard as she weaved around rows of desks. “Like the break room and bathrooms.” Dana pointed off to the left where a modest-sized room held a refrigerator, tables, and two coffee machines. Genevieve stared on with happy relief.

  Better than the instant they supplied us with at my last job.

  “Gen?” Dana looked at her expectantly before continuing the tour. “This way please.”

  Genevieve continued to follow and tried her best to not shrink under every curious and calculating gaze that followed her. She’d forgotten what it was like to be the new kid in town. Actually, she’d never really known that feeling. Even at her last job she had worked with friends she grew up with or their parents. Upon this realization, Genevieve’s palms grew sweaty and her breathing shortened as if she had run her way through the office. She was new, this was all new. No familiar faces or friends to fall back on. Just strangers. What have I gotten myself into?

  “This is your desk.” Dana pointed proudly toward a clean, organized workspace flanked by two occupied desks. “Maxine and Matthew will be your neighbors.” A middle-aged butch woman looked up at Genevieve and offered her a kind smile. Maxine’s dark eyes held a hint of unwavering youth, but her spiked salt-and-pepper hair and laugh lines gave her true age away. She offered Genevieve her left hand.

  “Nice to meet you…?”

  “Maxine, Matthew—this is Genevieve Applegate.”

  “Call me Gen.”

  Matthew shot Genevieve a blinding smile. “Another woman? I thought I told Harper to hire a hunk this time around.” He had naturally platinum hair, impeccably sharp style, blue eyes, and charm for days. “Where do I go to complain?” He shook Genevieve’s hand and followed it up with a wink.

  “I’ll make sure to put out a suggestion box just for you, Matthew,” Dana joked. She turned her attention back to Genevieve just as she settled in at her desk. “Ms. Davies is out of the office today, but she wanted me to give you your first assignment.” Genevieve swallowed hard. “She wants you to write,” Dana said simply.

  Befuddled, Genevieve raised a skeptical eyebrow. “What?”

  “She wants you to write,” Dana repeated.

  “Yes, I understand that, but write what?” Genevieve looked back and forth between Matthew and Maxine, who were both grinning widely, their amusement thinly veiled. “What am I missing?”

  “Everyone spends their first day writing everything and anything that comes to mind,” Maxine said.

  “Ms. Davies likes to have a sampling of your style as well as preference of topics. Think variety and quality. Turn in as many pieces as you can by five o’clock,” Dana said, turning away before Genevieve could ask for more direction.

  “I can’t decide if I’m intimidated or inspired by her.” Genevieve wondered the words aloud.

  “A balance of both, I assure you,” Maxine said.

  “And you’ll probably have a crush on her by the end of the week.” A sultry, oddly familiar voice spoke up from behind Genevieve’s chair.

  “Clarissa, meet Gen—the new hire,” Matthew said.

  “The roadblock is the new hire?” She was immediately speared by Clarissa’s predatory green eyes and flustered by her menacing smile. Clarissa swept a lock of auburn hair over her shoulder. She propped one hand on her cocked hip, still toying with the ends of her hair. “I should’ve known. You were obviously frozen in fear earlier. Let me guess…first job?”

  “No—”

  “I’m surprised. I’ll see you later for lunch, Matthew. I want to hear all about your date last night.” Clarissa was gone as quickly as she had come, leaving Genevieve shaken and annoyed.

  “Don’t let her get to you,” Maxine said. “She’s not all bad, she just makes it her mission to traumatize and embarrass new hires, especially the young and pretty ones. You’ll get used to it. Before you know it, she’ll target someone else.”

  “Great.” Genevieve looked at the clock. It was just after nine, and she felt as if she had lived an entire day already. Meeting new coworkers was exhausting, especially when you were there under false pretenses. She closed her eyes and took a deep, cleansing breath, listening to the noise of many keyboards around her telling stories and producing news for the masses. Genevieve was in her element. She was made for journalism, and she wouldn’t let one little detail derail just how good this opportunity could be for her, or how much her column could mean for readers.

  She stretched her palms out against the surface of her desk and let the coolness of the surface penetrate her skin. After balling her hands into fists and releasing them several times, Genevieve opened a new Word document and started to type. First, she wrote an article about weather predictions for the upcoming winter and deleted it immediately. Next, she did a nonfictional story about a breakup she had experienced secondhand through Chloe, but she erased that document shortly after lunch, once she realized making her mark as a relationship columnist would be a grave mistake given her lack of experience in the area.

  She and Jeremy weren’t an exciting couple; their relationship was more like a mending, two lives they’d lived together for so long, they just became one. Hardly a topic that would sell magazines. What could she write about that would help with the magazine’s success and consequently her own?

  Fiction isn’t your strong suit, Gen. Genevieve sat back with an exasperated huff and reached into her bag for a snack. She pulled out some gummy bears and started to chew one as she brainstormed. She had promised Ms. Davies—Harper—a fresh perspective. She’d led her new boss to believe her background coming from a small, conservative town would add a new spin to the magazine’s
content, but she wasn’t sure she could deliver.

  People buzzed around her in the office. Through the window, she saw couples walking hand in hand down the street outside her window. Every race and sexuality was present, and eccentrically dressed individuals and men in business suits mingled along the sidewalks. Everyone was so different from her, which was scary.

  Genevieve smacked herself on the forehead. The answer was so simple. All she had to do was follow through with the promise she’d made to Harper. She tossed the remainder of the candies aside and cracked a few knuckles. This time when she started typing, the words came effortlessly and honestly.

  A few hours later, after several revisions and edits, Genevieve walked along the boardwalk that night considering the article she had submitted. She was proud of it, simply put. The lulling rush of the ocean’s waves helped relax the tension in her shoulders. Though it had all started as a small lie, Genevieve was sure now this was the right move for her. She inhaled the sea air deeply, feeling it fuse with her spirit.

  She had just written the most personal article of her career, and with that came the promise of self-discovery and sharing a life as it blossomed. The cool breeze pushed her hair away from her face as she stared at the moonlight dancing along the ocean. Genevieve explained to the readers just as she explained it to herself. It was finally time for her to grow up.

  Step Four

  Make Friends

  Genevieve was less intimidated after surviving her first day at the office. She felt like she had found her role and was ready to settle into it. Even her desk felt more like her own when she added a few personal details, like the small cactus that had once decorated her desk at the Sunrise. The small, prickly greenery made Genevieve smile because it was the first plant she had managed to keep alive for longer than a week.