by M. E. Carter
I hate it.
Mostly I hate that I really like it. I like him. But I don’t want to get caught up in a man and lose myself again. I’m finally discovering things about myself I didn’t know before. Who knew I wasn’t a fan of reality television but enjoy documentaries about the history of ghost towns? Or that I enjoy looking through fashion magazines? And that I might want a second piercing in my ear sometime in the future? I didn’t know any of that until the last couple of weeks when I’ve had total control over my apartment.
I can’t stop thinking about what Liam meant when he asked if I really didn’t know where I like to eat or if Kevin just never bothered asking for my opinion. I fear Liam nailed a lot of things about me with that one question.
For instance, am I truly a nurturing person, or do I hide from disappointment by always putting others first? Am I just a run-of-the-mill people pleaser or is it in my nature to worry about other people’s opinions? Have I been too scared to try new things and what would I try now if I could?
An alert pops up indicating I have a new email. Quickly I flip screens. I’ve been crunching payroll numbers for one of our clients for several hours. My brain is losing focus.
It’s from Mrs. Welch titled, “Join me in giving congratulations to Peter Madden.”
Congratulations? What in the world are we congratulating him for?
Scanning the email, my jaw drops with disbelief.
As you know, we have been in the market for a new senior accountant. We are pleased to announce, after much discussion, Peter Madden has accepted our offer to fill that role.”
My breathing picks up, my blood boiling. I have been here longer than Peter Madden. I have more experience, a higher customer appreciation rate, a lower mistake percentage. I work any overtime Mrs. Welch asks of me without complaint and wear suits from the same store she purchases from.
That job was supposed to be mine. She told me as much over Easter brunch. But that was before Kevin and I broke up. Before she set him up on a blind date with another woman.
The realization literally knocks me backward in my chair.
The only reason she gave me this job, the only reason she considered me for the senior accountant position is because of him. Now that he’s moved on, per her request, that’s all over.
All those years of busting my tail, thinking I’m getting ahead because I’m good at my job and have a solid work ethic for what? To get overlooked for Peter Madden? I didn’t even get an interview. Is my current job in jeopardy, too?
My anger and disappointment are too high to worry about potential unemployment right now. I need to get out of here.
I push my chair back, then stop, Liam’s words running through my head again.
“Do you really have no preference or have you forgotten what you like?”
He’s right. I have forgotten. Things I’ve wanted to try, never even considered because they might be frowned upon. Places I’ve wanted to go, never to be seen because someone might want to go somewhere else. Conservative hair, conservative makeup, conservative clothes because the boss might give me a promotion.
Well, no more. As of this moment, I’m going to begin taking chances and living a little.
Quickly, I grab a pencil, because it’s always best to make notes with something erasable, and begin jotting down a list.
Ellery’s To-Do List
Create a social media account
Go to a BTS concert
Get a second piercing
Get a tattoo. Maybe.
I begin to jot down a fifth item when I remember I’m trying to seize the day, not plan for tomorrow. Instead, I pick up my cell, scroll for the number I’m looking for and make a call.
Five minutes later, I grab my purse and head out my door.
“I’m taking a long lunch,” I say to Brittany, the front desk receptionist in passing.
“Okay?” I can hear the confusion in her voice as I walk toward the elevator. I’ve never taken a long lunch in the over five years I’ve worked here. “Is everything alright, Ellery?”
I turn and give her a tight-lipped smile, not wanting to give anything away. “Just peachy.”
Thankfully, the door to the lift opens and I hurry inside, ready to get away from this place and work on myself for a little bit.
My drive is a little longer than normal with lunchtime traffic, but I have no desire to go back to work any time soon so I don’t care. I’m a woman on a mission.
When I finally reach my destination, I strut in, determination on my face.
“Hi, can I help you?” a pleasant woman asks at the desk.
Suddenly I deflate just a little. What am I doing? Do I really want to take this step or am I reacting in anger to the betrayals I feel at the hands of my boss?
I’m about to cancel my appointment when my stylist Jayden appears out of nowhere.
“Ellery! You made it!” She greets me with a hug and practically drags me back to her chair.
I haven’t been here in a couple of months, and long before my hair coloring debacle at home.
“How have you been?” She asks as she drapes the cape around me. “And who did this color? It looks amazing on you!”
“Really?”
“Truly. I absolutely love it. Are we touching it up today?”
I take a deep breath, trying to tap back into the anger and courage I was feeling a few minutes ago.
“I want to do something a little different.”
“Sure. Are we adding layers or maybe some streaks of something brighter?” She runs her fingers through my hair, giving my head a thorough exam.
“I want to cut it all off.”
Jayden’s fingers freeze. “What?”
“You heard me.”
“That is a pretty drastic change. Are you sure?”
I nod, feeling my confidence return. “I’ve always wanted to try a pixie cut but I’ve been worried no one would like it. But I played around online the other day with one of those apps that let you try out different haircuts and I think it’ll look good.”
She circles the chair and me in it, assessing my face from different angles. “Your bone structure will really come alive with shorter hair. But you have to be absolutely sure. Once I make the first cut, there’s no going back. It’s not like we’re just going to your shoulders and it’s easy to grow back.”
“I’m sure. Let’s do it.”
She moves behind me, picking up the scissors and a large chunk of my hair. Making eye contact in the mirror, she puts the scissors in position and pauses.
“Last chance.”
I take a deep breath before pulling my shoulders back. “Do it.”
The snip only takes a few seconds but the weight that feels lifted as my hair falls to the floor is tremendous. This is me taking control of my life. Trying new things and figuring out how I want to live. This is me saying “forget what anyone else thinks—it’s my life and I’ll do things how I want.”
This is me, finally freeing myself from other people’s expectations and working on being the best version of me that I can be. Whatever she looks like.
Once my hair is short, Jayden does a thorough wash and condition, spouting off information about how to take care of my new color. It’s welcome advice considering the color was such an impulsive move on my part, I hadn’t even thought about upkeep.
When I sit back in the chair though, she doesn’t let me face the mirror. I’ve already seen the beginnings of me with super short hair, but knowing she wants to surprise me with the finished product eases the nerves I feel and makes me excited.
“With hair this short, you’re going to need to come back every couple of weeks so we can trim the back,” she instructs as clippers graze the back of my neck. It tickles and I have to force myself to sit still. “Also, next time, let’s touch up your color so we can keep it looking fresh, okay?”
“Okay,” I say rather than nod for fear I’ll end up with a random shaved stripe on the back of my head.
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“It’s a lot to maintain, but this looks so amazing.” A dollop of some sort of product goes on her hands and into my hair. She rubs her hands to and fro until she’s finally satisfied that my hair is the exact right version of messy. Or sleek. I’m not sure yet since I haven’t seen it.
When she stands back to observe the final product, she gasps. “Ohmygod Ellery. You are stunning.”
I bite my lip as she spins my chair around and get my first glimpse of the new me.
I swear I stop breathing as I take in the beautiful woman in front of me. The very short, pixie cut has a bit of a purposeful mess to it. Somehow the length makes the color pop even more and my neck looks longer. Elegant. The woman in the mirror, she looks bold and confident, ready to take on the world. But there’s one thing missing.
“Can you hand me my purse?”
She does and I take out my other new indulgence—the cherry red lip color Lauren swears pulls my new make-up look together. Freshening up the application that wore off earlier in the day, I take another look at myself.
Perfect.
“Ohmygod Ellery,” Jayden breathes. “I knew this would look great on you but I had no idea.”
“Me neither.”
After a few more minutes of gazing at the beauty in the mirror, I check out and head back to my workday. I never did have lunch, but I can survive off the granola bars stashed in my desk drawer that I keep for unexpected late nights.
Making my way from the parking lot into the building, I notice the double takes I’m getting. There aren’t many, just other people who work in this complex, but it still gives me a huge boost to my ego. I went for it, tried something new, and so far, I love it.
It isn’t until I get on the elevator that I begin to question myself and the way I left. I stormed out after getting an email that hurt my feelings. I wasn’t professional and didn’t even consult the dress code before making a rash decision.
But then the doors close and I see my reflection.
I look professional and well put together. I look like a woman who can handle anything that is thrown her way. I look like a woman who can handle anything a client throws her way. My nerves calm as I remember that not only will I make an amazing first impression from here on out, I made great first impressions before. At minimum, I should have been interviewed for that senior accountant position. But I wasn’t bold enough to be memorable. Now, as I look at the new me, I realize bold is my new motto. My new goal.
Armed with that realization, I sashay my way into the office and past Brittany who almost drops the phone receiver as I walk by, and Mrs. Welch who just happens to be standing at her desk.
“I’m back,” I say and then add a quick nod in greeting to my boss as I saunter by.
Not surprising because of the complete look of shock on both their faces, they don’t respond.
Finally, in the safety of my office, I shove my purse into my desk drawer and pull out my phone to shoot off a text to Lauren.
Me: Meet me at the bar tonight. I have something to show you.
Pleased with myself, I get back to work. These numbers won’t crunch themselves and even if Mrs. Welch doesn’t see my value, I do.
I won’t let the client down no matter how mad I am about Peter Madden. I’m better than that. And I have no one to prove it to except myself.
Chapter Fourteen
Liam
“Who am I supposed to scrimmage with when you’re off the ice?”
Tucker Hayes, my teammate and probably closest friend continues to bitch about how hard my surgery is going to make his life. Not shocking. He’s a great guy but a bit of a drama queen at times.
“You’re not.” I’ve known him long enough to not be offended by Tucker’s uncanny ability to make any situation about himself. He’ll vent for a while before realizing what he’s doing and getting back on track. “You’re supposed to go on vacation, maybe visit your family. All those things you can’t do once pre-season starts.”
He swallows his beer with a sigh and continues to stare at the bartender he’s been crushing on for months. “You know that’s not me. I’m a homebody.”
“No, you’re not. You’re just still pining over a certain blonde who will never consider you more than just a friend.”
Just then, Nicole’s live-in boyfriend, Kade, walks by and slaps her on the ass. She startles and then smiles lovingly at him and shakes her head.
“It’s never going to happen,” Tucker says wistfully before shaking it off and turning to me. “But you can’t blame me for still having fantasies about her.”
“I can and I do,” I say, pointing my bottle at him. “It’s been months since she turned you down. It’s time to move on and let those love birds be.”
“I know, I know. It would just be easier if we could meet some new people somewhere.”
“You mean like… on vacation?”
He scowls at me and gestures to Kade for another round. “I mean like here. We need to have a friends and family night or something. Get all the regulars to bring everyone they know so we can meet more quality people.”
I snort a laugh. “Sounds more like a barbecue social.”
He pauses, bottle halfway to his lips. “I could go for some barbecue, too.”
I laugh again because of course, he could. Like most pro athletes, myself included, Tucker loves his food. Even though he’s not a Texan, he sure has taken to the brisket like one. About every six months, I have to talk him down from buying a portable smoker for tailgating. The man has never gone to a tailgating party in his life and I’ve seen his barbecue skills. Add a truck with a tank full of gas and it’s asking for an explosion. And not the good kind.
“Speaking of food,” he continues because of course, he does. “What are you going to want to eat after the surgery tomorrow? Chicken noodle soup or maybe tomato with a grilled cheese?”
I’ve actually spent a couple of days creating a few meals and sticking them in my freezer so I won’t have to cook for a while. I’m not thrilled about the idea of not eating everything totally fresh, but it’s better than surviving off fast food for the next three months. And it beats the hell out of Tucker’s cooking skills.
“I’m having surgery not contracting the flu, grandma.”
“Listen, just because you’ll be sleeping your day away tomorrow doesn’t mean the rest of us will. I’m trying to plan ahead so I know what to feed us once you’re home.”
I shrug, completely indifferent to tomorrow’s menu. “Just make whatever you want. If I’m hungry, I’ll eat but who knows how it’s gonna go. Don’t wait on me.”
“Oh, I wasn’t planning on it. But now that you’ve mentioned barbecue, I may have to stop at that great little joint over by the rink on our way back from the hospital. Their smoked sausage is amazing. I wonder if they would sell me their recipe.”
I’m about to give him his bi-yearly reminder of why him smoking anything is a bad idea when the door opens and Ellery walks in. Only this isn’t the Ellery I know. This Ellery is sporting a shorter haircut that shows off her elegant neck.
I’m completely transfixed as I watch her rush to the bar before stopping in front of her girlfriends, who are causing a ruckus in response to the big reveal, and twirling around to show them her new cut.
She doesn’t just look stunning, she also looks excited. The way she’s carrying herself exudes confidence and poise. She’s owning it.
Before I even know what’s happening, I approach the bar. “Another something, Nicole,” I say holding up my bottle, having no idea what I was drinking. Everything before now is a blur, my eyes not able to leave the sight of the beautiful woman next to me.
Immediately upon hearing my voice, Ellery turns away from her friends to make eye contact with me, biting her lip like she’s nervous.
“You don’t like it,” she finally squeaks out after several seconds of silence.
I do. I really do. But I also remember the conversations we’ve had over the last couple
of weeks and I don’t want my thoughts to change the way she feels about herself. I’m not the important one in this scenario.
“It doesn’t matter if I like it. Do you like it?”
She hesitates, my opinion more important to her than she wants to admit. But I see it in her eyes. The beginnings of the fearless person I know she wants to be. And part of that boldness means being truthful to herself no matter what anyone else thinks. Me included.
“I do.” The smile that crosses her face with that admission practically glows. “I really like it. I think with the color and the makeup, I look like a new person. A take-charge person.” Her face blushes prettily and she looks down before peeking up at me through her lashes. “Fake it until I make it right?”
“There’s no faking it. You’re perfect the way you are.”
I ignore Nicole and Lauren making “awwwww” noises behind her, although briefly, I wonder why Kiersten isn’t here tonight before my attention goes back where it belongs. On Ellery.
I approach her and run the back of my hand down her soft cheek. “For the record, I love it. It gives me easy access to your neck.” I lean in closer and run my nose just under her jaw making her shiver.
“Holy shit, I think I just got pregnant watching this,” Lauren says making me chuckle, but I’ve got more important things on my mind.
“Wanna come home with me tonight?”
“You better say yes before he takes you on this bar,” Lauren interrupts.
Ellery giggles then nods and I grab her hand.
“Nicole, Tucker will close out my tab.”
“Hey!” I hear him yell in protest, but he deserves it for the number of times he’s done the same to me.
Nicole waves me off knowing I’m a man on a mission and if Tucker doesn’t pay up, I will next time I’m in. It’s not like they don’t all know where to find me.
Racing to the car, I have to remind myself to slow my steps so I don’t drag Ellery through the parking lot.
“Sorry,” I say as I hold back some of the pent-up energy I’m feeling. “I forgot you were wearing heels and can’t run as fast as me.”