Fake It Till You Make It

by M. Ullrich

  She grabbed a pen from a small mesh basket she got at an office supply store and started her morning brainstorming session. Genevieve jotted down a few quick ideas in her spiral notebook, and as she dotted her final i, she knew she’d have to get a cup of coffee before she could do anything else. She grabbed the new mug she had brought with her and rose to find Dana standing behind her. She jumped, nearly dropping it.

  “Miss Applegate—”

  “Please.” Genevieve placed her mug back on the desk and moved her shaking hand over her racing heart. “I told you to call me Gen.”

  “Good morning, Gen. I’m sorry about startling you, but Ms. Davies would like to see you in her office.” Genevieve wondered if she had time to make coffee first, but Dana said, “Immediately.” Genevieve looked back at the empty mug on her desk and frowned, following Dana wordlessly.

  She wasn’t sure if she was more worried about Harper’s sudden beckoning or Dana’s ninja-like skills. Genevieve could tell from the start that Harper’s assistant was a spitfire and possibly the coal that kept Out Shore’s engine running.

  Once they stopped outside Harper’s office door, Dana abandoned her, leaving her to conquer the last few feet on her own. Genevieve knocked lightly and cleared her throat. Harper looked up from a stack of paperwork and smiled politely.

  “Genevieve, come in and have a seat.” Harper beckoned Genevieve forward and turned her attention to her bright computer screen. She squinted faintly and began to read aloud. “With inexperienced and eager eyes, I now see the world in a new light. This light is colorful, welcoming, and beautiful in its diversity. I cannot wait to see what it has in store for me.” Harper looked away from the computer and directly at her. “That’s beautiful, Genevieve.”

  “Thank you, I meant every word.” Genevieve tugged nervously at the cuff of her maroon cardigan.

  “I hope that’s true, which is why I called you in here.” Harper leaned forward and clasped her hands together on her desktop. Genevieve shifted nervously. “Genevieve, you’ve managed to do something not one other writer on my staff has done.”

  Genevieve’s mind conjured up a hundred different possibilities, ranging from fooling Harper to alienating the entire staff. “What’s that?”

  Harper’s gentle smile was the same one Genevieve had received during her interview and one she felt would accompany some of the happiest moments of her life. Happiest moments of my career, she corrected herself.

  “You wrote your very first article on your very first day. There’s usually a lot more trial and error involved.”

  “My first article?”

  “You’ll be published in this week’s issue.”

  “My article?”

  “Your article.”

  “My words?”

  Harper started to laugh. “Your article that is comprised of your words, yes.”

  Genevieve was, for once, speechless. She expected weeks of being treated like a newbie and writing about topics assigned to her before being given this opportunity. She was an employee for all of two days and was about to be published for writing something from her heart. What kind of dream world was this?

  She had to ask. “Are you sure?”

  “I’m positive. You hit the nail on the head with this first piece, and I think it’s exactly what this publication needs. We’ve managed to reach out to most of the community, but I think you’ll be able to really make a difference. Just keep up the honest writing. Think you can do that?”

  Genevieve took a breath as the weight of Harper’s words settled in her chest. Her jaw tensed, and she struggled to keep her expression neutral. Honest writing? Make a difference? She nodded absentmindedly. The pressure of writing a cover piece about the most recent pie bake competition had nothing on this. Finally she said, “Of course.”

  “Great!” Harper clapped. “I won’t keep you from your work any longer, but come back here at twelve. I’d like to take you out.” Genevieve’s eyes widened, and Harper was quick to amend, “To lunch!” Harper laughed nervously and rubbed the spot between her eyes. “I like to take new employees to lunch on their first day, but I missed yours yesterday.” Harper unbuttoned her cuffs and started to roll her sleeves to mid-forearm.

  “Oh, okay.” Genevieve forced a stiff smile and readied herself to leave her boss’s office. “See you at twelve.”

  She thought she had earned lunch for doing something no other employee had done, for being something special, but finding out the opposite had deflated her. Genevieve chalked her disappointment up to her tendency to overachieve and left the office as quietly as she had entered.

  Genevieve walked back to her desk in a daze, but each step along the way helped clear her head. She was two days into her new job and successful thus far. This thought on loop had Genevieve smiling by time she sat in her chair.

  “Don’t look now, but Clarissa is on her way over,” Maxine said gruffly. She sighed.

  “Someone looks happy after a meeting with the boss.” Clarissa leaned against the open desk space between Genevieve and Maxine, blocking the older woman from Genevieve’s sight.

  “I received some positive feedback,” Genevieve said. She wasn’t about to play games, but she also wasn’t eager to appear rude to her new coworkers by ignoring them.

  “I’m sure she told you how great your writing is and that you’ll help make a difference.” Genevieve looked up at Clarissa quickly. Her mouth fell open, but she had nothing in the way of a response. Clarissa let out a low chuckle that ended in her clucking her tongue. “You’d think she’d come up with better lines than that by now. I guess it’s true what they say about old dogs.” Clarissa pushed off the desk and started her retreat, but not without leaning into Genevieve’s ear and whispering, “Watch out, she really likes the innocent ones.” Genevieve watched Clarissa stalk away.

  “Don’t listen to Clarissa. She tells the same story to every woman that starts here,” Maxine said.

  “Why, though? What does she have to gain? I’m not after her job.” Genevieve looked out the window as she contemplated her own questions. The biggest motivator for a woman to act like that would be jealousy. “Does she have a thing for Harper?” Matthew’s loud cackle made her flinch.

  “Yeah, Gen,” he said. “Something like that.” He looked at Maxine, who shared the same conspiring smile. Genevieve sat wondering how much deeper she could get herself in one day.

  *

  “The coal-fired pizzas are good, but I highly recommend the Cuban sandwich.” Harper leaned across the small table and pointed to the side of the menu that listed sandwiches. “All of them are good, trust me,” Harper said with a wink. “I never lie about food.”

  “What about their salads?”

  “I wouldn’t know much about those. I only eat real food.”

  “Oh?” Genevieve’s laughter continued to bubble in her throat. “I’ll have to remember that.”

  “Good afternoon, Harper.” A young waitress approached the table and placed her hand on Harper’s shoulder before looking to Genevieve. “I’m Tammy, Harper’s favorite waitress here.” She gave Harper’s shoulder a rub for good measure. The small gesture did not go unnoticed by Genevieve.

  “This is Genevieve, the latest writer at Out Shore,” Harper said, gesturing toward Genevieve. Tammy’s hand never strayed far from Harper’s shoulder.

  “Welcome aboard.” Tammy smiled at Genevieve but returned her attention to Harper instantly. “What’ll it be today? Do not say the Cuban.”

  Harper hung her head guiltily.

  “She’s that bad?” Genevieve said, looking directly at Harper.

  “Worse! Last week she came in and—”

  “Okay, you two!” Harper raised her hands in defeat. “I’m pretty terrible, but I’m not that bad.”

  Genevieve picked up her menu again. “I’ll have the Cuban,” she said, and Harper grinned with pride. “And Harper will have whatever salad special you have.” Harper stopped smiling. “You know what she likes,” Gen
evieve said with a wink aimed at Tammy. “Surprise her.”

  “I like her, Harper. Give her a raise.” Tammy smiled broadly and collected the menus from the table, touching Harper’s shoulder again before leaving the women alone.

  Harper fixed her napkin on her lap and adjusted the rolled cuffs of her shirt. She looked at Genevieve and said, “Are you always this sassy with your boss?”

  Genevieve’s smile fell. She never saw the line until she had already crossed it. “I’m so sorry!” Genevieve covered her face with her hands. “I always get ahead of myself and act like everyone is my friend and I make things awkward!” She peeked between her fingers and added, “I’ll take the salad.”

  Harper sat still before she cleared her throat and repeated, “I don’t eat salads.”

  Genevieve squirmed in her seat, not catching the teasing lilt of Harper’s voice. “I know,” she said with a groan. “You said that and I blatantly disregarded it.” Genevieve covered her face again and Harper stopped her by gently grasping her forearm.

  “It’s okay, really,” Harper said. Her gentle laugh helped relieve some of the tension twisting the muscles between Genevieve’s shoulders. “I prefer having friendly relationships with my writers—teasing, hanging out, and sharing life stories, the whole nine yards.” Harper released Genevieve’s arm and sat back with a faux puff of confidence broadening her chest. “Hey, maybe it’s time for me to try something new.”

  Genevieve’s mood shifted instantly and she grinned. “I’m sure you’ll love whatever Tammy brings you.”

  Harper shook her head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Oh please!” Genevieve leaned forward and laid her hand on Harper’s shoulder. She was immediately struck by the firm muscle she felt beneath her fingertips. “She knows exactly what you like,” she said in a mock purr.

  “Of course she does, I’ve been coming here for years!” Harper’s defense was weak.

  “Hmmm.” She picked up her ice water and took a long sip, the clattering of the ice cubes the only sound at the table. She placed the glass back in its small wet ring. “How many times has she asked you out?”

  Harper’s initial response was a comical noise, something between a scoff and a squawk.

  Genevieve arched one eyebrow as she assessed her boss from across the table. “How many times, Harper?”

  Harper shook her head and rolled her eyes. “Four, maybe five? I don’t know. I wasn’t counting.”

  Genevieve opened her mouth and closed it immediately. She worried her lower lip between her teeth as she considered her response. She had already crossed one line, but her curiosity was gnawing at her. Her face twisted painfully.

  “Just say it, Genevieve.” Harper adjusted her napkin again and looked up at Genevieve through her dark lashes.

  “Have you ever accepted?”

  “And risk losing one of my favorite places to eat? Never.”

  They both sat back as lunch was served moments later. Before Genevieve had the chance to bite into her sandwich, Harper leaned forward and said, “That sandwich is worth turning down a date, I promise.” She sat back and prepared her salad, with a little help from Genevieve, and the two women fell into a companionable silence as they ate.

  Once Harper’s salad was half its original size and Genevieve had the chance to enjoy most of her sandwich with few interruptions, Harper started to talk business. She brought up key points of Genevieve’s first installment and mentioned what she’d like to see in future issues. Eventually, the topic melded with Genevieve’s personal life.

  “The more personal you get, the better.” Harper took a final bite of her food and chewed slowly. After she swallowed, she said, “If this becomes a steady column, your topics are limitless, really. I can offer you a lot of direction, but I need to know something first.” Harper wiped her mouth.

  “What’s that?”

  “Do you have a partner?”

  Genevieve froze mid-bite. “Partner?”

  “I’m sorry, I know some people don’t prefer that term, and since you’re not wearing a ring I’ll ask, do you have a girlfriend?” Harper waited for an answer, but as Genevieve chewed slowly, she continued. “Anyone you left behind in Pennsylvania?” Harper watched Genevieve continue to chew. “You’re a slow eater.”

  “It’s healthier.” Genevieve laughed stiffly. “No girlfriend, no partner.” She sat back and fiddled with the napkin on her lap. “There’s someone in Pennsylvania, but…” She looked out the large front windows and squinted slightly at the bright sunlight.

  Harper tilted her head. “But what?”

  In an instant, Genevieve had a newfound clarity. A feeling that had lain dormant, hidden beneath routine comfort, surfaced with a breathtaking realization. “But I think I may have outgrown it.” She had never admitted that to anyone, not even herself.

  Harper nodded. “Good.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Good for the magazine!” Harper grimaced. “That doesn’t sound much better. What I’m trying to say is that if you’re single, you can write about navigating the dating scene. Dating and relationships are always hot topics, and our readers will root for you. It’ll be like tuning in to their favorite TV show week after week.”

  Genevieve swallowed. “Dating…”

  “If you’re ready to date, that is,” Harper said with a sigh. “I’m sorry.”

  “For what?”

  “Pushing you like this. I just get a little excitable when something new happens at Out Shore. I just compared your life to a TV show.”

  “It’s okay, Harper.” Genevieve let out a strangled laugh. Her plate was empty, so she pushed it aside and focused on Harper. She needed to deflect, and turning the tables on her boss seemed like the best way to do just that. “What about you? Also no ring.” Genevieve pointed to Harper’s left hand. “Single, or do you have a partner?”

  “I’m in a long-term relationship with Out Shore at the moment.” Something about the way she said it bothered Genevieve, but she couldn’t quite figure out why.

  “That’s surprising.”

  “Why?” Harper said with a smirk.

  “It just is,” Genevieve said, looking thoughtful for a moment. “You just don’t look like someone who’d be single often or for long.”

  Harper sat up taller. “Well, if that’s what we’re basing these things on, then I’ll say you won’t be single much longer.”

  Genevieve blushed and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

  “Can I get you anything else?” Tammy said from beside the table.

  “I think we’re good.” Harper looked at her watch, and her eyes widened. “We should be heading back. I may be the boss, but it’s bad business to keep people from getting their work done.” Harper paid the bill and waited for Genevieve to gather her things before making her way to the door.

  Genevieve spoke quietly as they walked back to the office. “Thank you for lunch. This whole transition and experience has been easy and welcoming.”

  “I’m very happy to hear that.”

  “Did you like your salad?” she said.

  “It was very good!”

  “You ate everything but the lettuce.”

  “Like I said, it was very good.” Harper chuckled when Genevieve rolled her eyes and started to walk away.

  Step Five

  Listen to Those Around You

  Genevieve was an instant success. Each weekly installment she wrote gained more attention than the last, which pleased both Genevieve and Harper immensely. Harper never shied away from sharing her outward excitement with Genevieve, whether it was by stopping at her desk to read a particularly shining email from a reader or acknowledging Genevieve’s numbers in an office meeting. The attention made Genevieve giddy. She just liked impressing her boss; that’s what she told herself, anyway. Harper Davies seemed like the type of boss who was quick to be proud of her staff, but equally hard to impress.

  She also made new friends. A few of he
r coworkers had made it a habit to invite Genevieve along to any and all of their planned shenanigans, citing both a fun night and guaranteed material for her next column. Genevieve would often decline, preferring to head home and put on sweatpants before opening a beer and working on a blog post or clearing out her DVR. She already had enough potential material thanks to the heart of her column being a lie.

  Genevieve sat back from her desk with a sigh and readjusted her thick-rimmed glasses. She stretched her back and rubbed at the tension brewing at the base of her spine. The enormity of her lie weighed on her shoulders every day, but Genevieve tried to focus on the positive. She was flourishing in her new role and she had managed to keep the extent of her lies to a minimum. She looked at her spiral notebook and scanned the ideas she had for upcoming issues. Near the bottom, circled in red, was the one idea that scared her most, but this topic was also the one that Out Shore and her readers would have to see eventually: Go on a DATE. She popped a gummy bear in her mouth and chewed nervously.

  Would that be so hard? Genevieve mulled the idea over. Go out with a woman and simply enjoy her company? They could have a few drinks and chat amicably about their lives. That didn’t sound like a difficult feat at all. Hell, Genevieve had always enjoyed the company of her girlfriends over the boys since childhood. Genevieve smiled as she remembered all the games of make-believe she’d participated in. More than once, she had insisted a household would be better off with two mommies anyway, so an innocent date should be easy.

  “It’s such a turn-off when they don’t breathe.” Genevieve heard Clarissa over the quiet music she was listening to through earbuds. She pulled one out in order to hear more clearly. “I mean come on, I’m looking for an orgasm, not to get you into the Guinness Book of World Records!”

  Genevieve turned her chair just enough to watch Clarissa’s movements out of the corner of her eye. Clarissa had draped herself across the corner of Maxine’s desk as they chatted amicably. Clarissa, as Genevieve had come to learn over the past few weeks, was friendly with everyone else in the office, and in charge of sex and relationships, something she reminded Genevieve of every time her column even touched on the topic. Genevieve couldn’t wait to write a piece about dating just to get under Clarissa’s skin.