“Better?” Patrick asked me once we had dinner and I nodded. I’d had a delicious meal and I felt so much better.
“A bit embarrassed, though. That was inexcusable behavior,” I said shaking my head.
“What? Having feelings? Yeah, I should fire you,” His words full of sarcasm I just smiled.
“C’mon Lucinda, you can’t believe that? You are allowed to have feelings,” He seemed relaxed. He had taken his jacket and tie off.
“Am I? Crying like that during work hours? I don’t think so, Patrick. I would fire myself,” Oh god, I surely would! How could I have done that?
“Tears are allowed, Lucinda,” He said in a way that made me feel more embarrassed, if that was possible.
“That’s not what I’ve heard,” I said looking down at my hands.
“There is a big difference between crying at your house for personal reasons than crying at MY office because you couldn’t reach a client,” he said annoyed.
“I heard it was not because of the client! I heard it had to do with how you asked her to contact the client,” I said smiling now.
“Does everyone know those stories?” he asked surprised “Yes, Patrick. I feel like someone is about to scream “Dead Man Walking,” when I am walking by the halls of the office,” I said laughing a bit.
“Well, they’ll be surprised,” He raised his eyebrows and puts his napkin on the table. “I am going to be in my office, no phone calls,” I nodded and saw him leave.
My first week was a mix of everything; I ran around the office at one time trying to collect signatures on a contract that Patrick needed; I ran around the street trying to get him a certain kind of espresso that he had once tried in a tiny coffee shop somewhere near the building just to end up placing 5 cups on his desk until he found the one he wanted; I flew to NY twice only to collect some papers he had to sign, I was awoken once in the middle of the night because he had the munchies and was feeling like having a milkshake that, of course, I had to make. By Friday I no longer had the feeling that everyone pitied me, I even knew some people were already scared as soon as I appeared through their doors. Some clients had the decency of learning my name after 5 calls and most of them already had put me in touch with their own assistants. Besides the hectic schedule and running around, I had fantastic dinners made by Miranda who had taken me under her wing and swore solemnly that she had never liked any of Patrick’s assistants as much as she liked me. She also said that I had taken so much shit from him in my first week that she knew I was going to last years on the job. I surely hoped so because I was really making friends. Harriet was a bit uptight but had her moments of brilliant sarcasm and I truly enjoyed them; Brian was amazing with HR stuff and made sure to sit on my desk at least once a day to gossip about the day’s occurrences. I’d also learnt that he was Patrick’s best friend which made sense since he took a lot of shit from Patrick; Miranda was the closest thing I had to a mom since mine was MIA and seemed to have forgotten how to answer a phone; Sarah was shy, too shy but I had fun talking to her during dinner. And…Patrick… Patrick was my boss but we talked about everything during the day and I even fed him some of the gossip I heard from Brian, the more the merrier. We had lunch every day and every day, as well, he reserved 15 minutes for me to come to his office to help him clear his head and thoughts. He always asked about Fish and even asked Miranda to buy some of his food for me to have whenever I wished. He truly seemed like a good guy, a bit eccentric, bossy during office hours and tough when it came to business but he was a genius and I was learning so much from him. This job had given me a life, it had already taken it away from me since I had no time whatsoever but I had people that cared enough to sit in my desk and gossip, or people that cared enough to put Fish in a bowl so I could take care of it. I decided, that Friday night, while sitting in the living room at the pool house, with a glass of red wine and my computer on my lap, that taking this job had been the best decision I ever made.
I heard someone knocking on my door; I put my computer and wine on the coffee table and went to open just to find Patrick standing on the doorway. It felt weird to have him in there but then again, it was his house. He had his tie undone and his hair sticking out in 10 different ways. He was stressed.
“I’m stuck,” he said going inside; as always any sense of privacy that I might want was not detected by my boss.
“With what?” I asked as he stood in the middle of the living room.
“My mother.” I had arranged this man’s underwear for a week, I had arranged every meal for him, I had even got him to change his socks in his office, TWICE, and still I had not heard one thing about his family.
“Yes, she wants me to go to this gala, which I have to, there’s no getting out, but she wants me to take someone as a date. Someone she knows….” He says pacing on the living room while I sit down on the red leather couch I was before. He looks up to me and smiles, “I’ve never been here before.”
“What?” seems that’s all I am going to say tonight.
“Yeah, I built the pool house for my assistants. Never used it for myself and I never had the need to come,” He says still looking around “It’s nice… cozy,” He is complimenting his own house.
“So… the date,” I tried to bring him back to the conversation.
“Yes…. I don’t like this girl, Lucinda. She is annoying! And I HAVE to take her because her parents are friends with my parents so…,” He shrugs and looks at me with lost puppy eyes.
“Patrick, are you a mama’s boy?” I asked grinning
“Not funny, Lucinda! It’s just my mother values their friendship so much and I don’t want to be the cause of some fight or whatever…,”
“Why don’t you just go, endure one night of this annoying girl and you get over with that,” I said sipping my wine pretty amused with his situation.
“Can I have some of that?” he asked pointing at the wine in my hands.
“Sure, sit, I’ll get you a glass,” He sat on the leather couch while running his hands through his hair.
“Here,” I gave him a glass of wine.
“Thanks,” he gave a big sip “These couches are cozy too,” He said before another big sip “This girl has been trying to get in MY pants for as long as I can remember. I don’t want to give her the impression that going to the gala together is anything more than that. I REALLY don’t like her,” he sounds desperate and I try to suppress a laugh. It’s funny to see him like this.
“Ok, Patrick…. When’s this gala?” I asked.
“Tonight,”
“What? Patrick, how am I supposed to help you get unstuck you with such short notice,” I said exasperated.
“I forgot about the fucking gala, Lucinda. My mother just called me to let me know, hear this, let me know that I was picking up Stacy, that’s annoying girl’s name,”
“Ok…… I’ll go then,” I say placing my glass on the coffee table. He looked at me again with lost puppy eyes.
“You will?” he asked.
“Yes, Patrick. I’ll ride with you two on the limo or SVU or whatever you are taking and you won’t have that awkward moment and then during the event well, you need your assistant to take notes and shit, right?” I said nodding and Patrick nodded too. “There, problem solved,”
“Once again, Lucinda, you un-stuck me,” he smiled widely.
“Yes, good, that’s what assistants are for. Now, shush, I have to get ready “I said waving my hand towards the door.
“I need my gala outfit, Lucinda,” He says with sad eyes.
“Oh My God, Patrick,” I said walking past him, still on my slippers, and went to the main house.
“I told you I was difficult, didn’t I?” said Patrick following me up the stairs all the way to his room. He sat on his bed while I arranged everything in his walk-in closet. I had to crawl under his suits so he wouldn’t see me checking his shoes.
“Difficult doesn’t even begin to describe it,” I said coming from under the closet
with his shoes. “Anything else?” I asked him. He had a huge grin on his face, he seemed to be enjoying my bad mood.
“Would you fill my bath tub for me?” He asked and my eyes almost popped out of their orbits “Kidding,” he said and I just shook my head.
“I have to get ready to spend my night being an amazing third wheel,” I walked out of his room and I heard him laugh.
One hour later I found myself in the foyer ready to spend my night in a gala that I had not time to get ready for, mentally or outfit wise. I decided to put my hair up in a French bun and a red strapless, empire waist, formal dress. I was not wearing my favorite black and white for an unscheduled night where I would play the third wheel. Still, I wanted to look good.
“Lucinda,” I heard Patrick coming down the stairs.
“Ready?” I asked and he nodded.
“Give me two seconds to tell my mother I am on my way to pick up her protégée or whatever Stacy is,” He said sounding bitter and I laughed. In the meantime I decided I would have something to drink because God knew how long it would be before I had access to a glass of water. I went into the kitchen and the smell of something deliriously delicious hit my senses.
“Oh God I wish I could stay and eat whatever that is,” I said opening the fridge and taking out some OJ to pour in a glass.
“Oh Lucinda, darling! You look amazing,” said Miranda “Doesn’t she?” I heard Patrick’s voice and when I looked up from my glass he was leaning on the door in the kitchen.
“You are just saying that because you know you owe me big time,” I said while drinking the OJ. “Well that and the fact that it’s true. You look amazing,” He smiled and I just shook my head. “Let’s go, boss,” I say as I put my glass on the sink and he extended his arm for me to take “You still owe me,” I said taking it and we walk out to the Limo that is waiting for us.
“A Limo,” I say as I stepped into it.
“You gave me the idea,” he smiled and got in the limo after me.
“It’s comfy, I must say,” I confessed as I took my lipstick and mirror to re-apply it. “How long till we pick up Stacy,” I asked smacking my red lips together.
“An hour, more or less,” He said looking at me.
“Why do you live so far from the city when everything you do is in there?” I asked him curiously.
“I wanted to live somewhere with lots of land, where I could relax. New Hope seemed like the perfect place,” He shrugged and I nodded. Yeah, I got that, his place was amazing but the most beautiful thing about it was the land that surrounded it.
“Do I need to know anything in particular about someone at the gala?” I asked as I took out my phone from my silver clutch.
“Hmm, not really, but we could go over some of the people that might be there if you want,” I nodded and that’s what we spent the next hour doing. It was funny to get the nitty gritty about the socialite I was about to meet; it looked like Patrick hated every single thing about socialite life and its events. The ride to Stacy’s house didn’t feel long at all and before we knew it we were there. Patrick sent Mike to Stacy’s front door.
“What? You are not going to meet her at the door?” I asked in disbelief.
“I don’t want her to get the wrong impression,” He says in a bitter tone.
“It doesn’t matter, Patrick! I am sure your mother taught you better than this! You are a gentleman, go and meet her there,” I said outraged.
“Fine,” the 35 year old man sounded like a 5 year old. He got off the car and sent Mike back. I watched as the door to the house opened and a blonde, tall, woman, dressed in a silver dress appeared before Patrick. She was beautiful! I had no idea what was wrong with her; she had to have a horrible personality! They walked towards the car and Stacy climbed in. The look on her face when she saw me was priceless.
“Oh! I didn’t know we’d have company,” She said quite disappointed. “I’m Stacy,” she extended her hand and smiled sweetly at me. Nope, didn’t see what was wrong.
“Lucinda, Mr. Maynard’s assistant,” I shook her hand and there was some relief in her face. What? She thought we were on a collective date? This was not The Bachelor.
“Oh Stacy, I see you’ve met Lucinda.” Patrick was in a mode I had not yet seen, it was a mix between annoyance and…. Douchebagism…. If that is even a word.
“We have,” said Stacy smiling up at Patrick that was already by her side, and didn’t even look at her.
“How long have you worked for Patrick, Lucinda?” Stacy asked still sweet, still beautiful.
“Oh, it’ll be a week tomorrow,” I smiled politely I was really uncomfortable, I liked the girl well enough, I just wished Patrick wouldn’t be such an ass.
“Oh,” She said and realized we didn’t have anything else to talk about. I felt like crap, but it was not my place to make conversation with Patrick’s date so I just looked out the window hoping Mike would drive faster.
My wish came true since 10 minutes later we were at the gala. I took a deep breath and stepped out of the limo through the door that didn’t lead immediately to the sea of people that was out waiting. What the hell? You would think these were the Oscars. Why would you have press waiting for every guest? I waited for Patrick to go into the sea of photographers and then I ran to his side. He was in a horrible mood. I guessed it was due to the fact that he had been photographed with Stacy and had been asked if they were a couple. I rolled my eyes at his behavior and ran to catch up with him. He was all smiles, shaking hands in business man mode; Stacy was introducing herself shyly. I walked behind them since, really, I had nothing to do, and my job that night was being a third wheel. I felt guilty, the poor girl really liked Patrick. I saw Stacy introducing herself to a couple of the people Patrick was talking to. Ass! He wouldn’t even have the courtesy of introducing her! I kept on walking until we reached what seemed to be our table. A tiny detail, I was not included in this table plan. How was I supposed to be included if I invited myself one hour before the gala. I laughed to myself because I knew then that Patrick would have to spend time with Stacy alone.
“What?” he asked me. Wow! Bad mood.
“My name is not on this table, Mr. Maynard,” I said grinning.
“Since when I’m 'Mr. Maynard', Lucinda,” he asked annoyed and Stacy looked back at me, and I thought she was worried that I was in trouble or something, “You buy my underwear for fuck’s sake,” he said rolling his eyes. Well, Patrick was cranky.
“Fine! There’s no place for me at the table Patrick,” I said crossing my arms and tapping my foot.
“I’ll check on that,” he said and walked towards a brunette woman that I assumed was his mother. He hugged her affectionately, they both looked towards the table where we were standing and waiting, the woman waved at Stacy and she waved back.
“He must really like you,” Stacy said looking at me. She had to look down because, even in high heels, she towered over me.
“Excuse me?” I was distracted by my obviously short size. Although I’d prefer to to be called petite, thank you very much.
“Yeah, I’ve known Patrick for a long time. Our parents are very good friends,” She explained and I nodded. Why is he so negative towards her? “I’ve seen a lot of assistants in events and family parties.” What? Am I going to those too? Well, who cares, where else would I be? At the pool house, petting Fish? “And I’ve never seen any of them talking to him like that.”
“Oh! Well, he deserved that. He is in a foul mood,” I said turning to look at him still talking, animatedly, to her mother.
“That he is,” said Stacy laughing. I looked at her and we both laughed out loud. Poor girl. In that instant Patrick walked back to our table, still with a frown plastered on his face, and a few people were arranging the table.
“What the hell, Patrick?” I asked looking at him really pissed by then, “I didn’t mean for you to get me a place at the table,” I said putting my hands on my hips, “I just wanted to know where to sit. I’m yo
ur assistant; I should probably be sitting at the assistants' table.” It was embarrassing that he had his mother re-arranging the table sitting for me. “It’s embarrassing,”
“Oh! Grow up, Lucinda! Embarrassing for whom?” he asked. I decided I was not going to argue with him anymore.
“Don’t be embarrassed, dear,” I heard a voice from behind. I felt all the blood drained from me “Patrick is right, you should be in this table after everything he puts you through,” I turned and saw his mother all motherly and with a genuine smile.
“Thank you, Ms. Maynard,” I smiled, “I’m Lucinda Stuart,” I extended my hand and she hugged me instead, “It’s a pleasure to meet you Miss Stuart.”
“Lucinda or Lucy,” I heard Patrick said and both, her mother and I, looked at him. “She doesn’t like to be called Miss Stuart.”
“Ok, Lucy then,” she smiled and then excused herself, “Way to go, Patrick,” I said sitting down in the place where my name tag, scribbled in silver marker, was placed. Embarrassing. Patrick sat next to me and next to him was Stacy. At that point I would have loved to switch places with Patrick. I was fond of Stacy now.
“You are not a great third wheel, Lucinda,” He said once he was settled.
“You are an ass,” I said whispering.
“What?” he was taken aback by my revelation. I was sure that was not the first time he was called an ass.
“She is a great girl, Patrick,” I shook my head.
“She is annoying,” he was pouting. Again, the 35 year old acting like a 5 year old.
“She is not, Patrick,” and with that our exchange was over because table began to fill. It turned out that I was in the table with Patrick’s parents, Stacy’s parents and her younger brother. I could then picture it perfect. Stacy running after Patrick at age 5. Stacy trying to kiss and hug him and Patrick being annoyed by that. Was that it? Did he think she was annoying because she harassed him when they were kids? I rolled my eyes at my discovery.
Unstuck Page 7