by Lexie Ray
It surprised me that he didn’t suggest that I got rid of the child inside of me. It downright shocked me that he was being so nice about everything. Was he patronizing me about the marketing deal?
“Is this what your strange night is all about?” he asked softly—so quietly that I had to lean forward to catch the words.
“I guess it’d be more accurate to say that you’ve caught me in the middle of my strange life,” I said. “I’ve spent my whole life with people telling me what I need to do and getting pulled in all different directions. I don’t even know what I want anymore.”
I didn’t understand why I was telling him this—some customer I’d only just met. But with a girdle holding in my gut, which was physical proof that I was carrying an actual human being inside me, I didn’t know where else to turn.
Dan smiled, covering one of my hands with his larger one. “You know,” he said. “No one knows what’s best for yourself more than you.”
I wanted that to be true. I wanted to know beyond the shadow of a doubt that I was wise enough to make my own decisions. But I felt that this entire time, I’d been letting myself down.
I squared my shoulders and lifted my chin. “When’s a good time for you at the firm?” I asked, immediately rewarded with a beautiful grin from Dan.
“Can you meet me at this address about 10 tomorrow morning?” he asked, pushing a business card toward me. “I know it’s kind of short notice, but the client will be there, expecting something that I only just acquired a few minutes ago.”
That sent a thrill of nerves down my spine, but I smiled all the same.
“Perfect,” I said, plucking the card up and putting it in my pocket.
Dan shook his head, rubbing his mouth with his hand. “I don’t know how I could ever thank you,” he said. “I feel like someone just dropped you right in my lap.”
I blushed a little at his choice of words. “The feeling’s mutual,” I said.
“Then it’s meant to be.”
Chapter Six
Even though I’d only gone to sleep at about 5 in the morning, jittery with excitement and nerves, I popped out of bed at 8. The boarding house was silent, the other girls also having only gone to sleep a few hours earlier. I showered and styled my hair, trying it in a couple of different ways before giving up and slicking it back into a bun. I didn’t want to look like I was going out for a night on the town when I showed up at Dan’s firm.
Back in my room, nothing fit. I was going to have to spring for some bigger pants, it was apparent. I’d set out a pair of khakis, but there was no way I was getting them zipped and buttoned over my ever-growing bump. The girdle was becoming less and less help.
I finally chanced upon a pretty jersey knit dress that tied at the side, accommodating my increasing girth. I was pleased to see that pairing it with a light cardigan helped conceal the bump. I was even more grateful that it was so early that I was guaranteed not to run into Mama or anyone else.
I looked forward to the day when I wouldn’t have to hide the fact that I was pregnant. Most women were proud of it, buying cute clothes to show off their growing bumps.
I still wasn’t sure how I felt about it. Did I wish Jake were still in the picture? Of course I did. It was so hard to face parenthood alone.
But I didn’t feel as desperate as I had been feeling. Something about going to Dan’s firm—or maybe even Dan himself—had helped restore my faith in the situation.
I had a way out of Mama’s nightclub if everything went well today. That sent even more nerves fluttering in my belly, but I couldn’t ignore the possibility. This could be the way I’d start earning honest money, leaning on my artistic talent instead of my looks.
Keeping my makeup demure, I stuffed a tote bag with some pencils, pens, my sketchbook, phone, and wallet. I slipped on my most comfortable pair of wedges and looked at my reflection in the mirror hanging on the door.
A careful observation would show a pregnant woman, pretty but conservative. I wasn’t sure how graphic designers dressed, so I didn’t know if I looked like one. I was going to try to find out.
Even though it was still early, I left the building and hailed a cab. I didn’t want to make a bad impression by being late.
I showed the driver the card and sat back to relax and enjoy the ride, trying to forget my anxiety.
It was dangerously easy to get sucked into life at the nightclub. If all your friends were in one place already, there was little point of leaving. Back in the early days, I would go whole months without leaving the building. It could really warp a girl’s brain and alter her reality, making the life inside of the nightclub seem more and more normal until it was the only thing there was.
The ride across the city was nice. I might get out of the nightclub every once in a while to go to the store, or to the clinic if I was sick—or was supposed to get an abortion—but it’d been a long time, indeed since I’d explored the city. I saw places I hadn’t seen since I first got to the Big Apple. It filled me with an inexplicable longing for those crazy early days, when I was exploring both myself and the city. I might not have always had a place to stay in the morning, but I’d figure it out by the evening.
With a small stab of shock, I realized that life would never be like that again. As much as I might have enjoyed it then, I now had to think for two people: me and the baby within me.
Responsibilities just got a lot more real.
It was 9:30 in the morning when the cab driver pulled up outside of the marketing firm. Intimidated, I pressed my face against the cab window and looked up at the sleekly modern building, its outside covered in window after window of glittering glass.
“This is the address on the card,” he said.
“I know,” I said. “I just didn’t expect it to be so big.”
I paid him and got out of the cab, looking around. Everyone in this part of town was dressed extremely professionally. I should’ve worn a suit—if I’d even had one hanging in my closet. I was woefully underdressed and ill prepared. It was all I could do not to hail another cab and go back to the nightclub, where I apparently belonged. I didn’t fit in to this world.
Maybe if I didn’t have a baby growing in my belly, I’d do it. But this was a chance at a new life, and I had to try to seize it.
The lobby area of the building was just as modern as the outside with smooth concrete flooring and enormous windows. It was bustling with activity—people waiting in an alcove of aluminum chairs, others walking quickly across the expanse. There were several coffee and snack kiosks positioned around the area.
I realized I didn’t know where to go until I stumbled on a directory display. It showed all of the businesses that the building contained. That comforted me a little bit. At least Dan’s firm wasn’t big enough for its own skyscraper.
Creative Marketing Solutions. Seventeenth floor. Bingo.
Happy that I was still early, I walked across the lobby to the row of elevators. The ride was too quick, I decided, as I stepped hesitantly out into another, smaller lobby on the seventeenth floor. My heart was pounding as I approached the glass desk.
“Hello,” I said, flashing a smile at the receptionist. “I’m afraid I’m a little early, but I’m supposed to meet Dan Fraser here at 10.”
“Name, please?” she asked, looking at me with interest.
I wanted to tell her Sandra Webber, but Dan wouldn’t know me by that name. I wasn’t even sure that I knew myself by that name. Was Blue enough?
“Blue,” I said, unable to come up with anything different.
“Oh, yes,” the receptionist said, tapping at something I couldn’t see on the other side of the desk. “He’s expecting you. I’ll go let him know that you’re here.”
She walked around behind a partition and I was left by myself in the little lobby. Compared to the receptionist, who was just wearing dark trouser jeans and an embellished T-shirt, I was overdressed. I resigned myself to the fact that I just wasn’t going to get it right
on my first try here.
“You’re already breaking the first cardinal rule of graphic designers,” Dan said, grinning as he entered the lobby and took my hand to shake it. Its warmth—and his good looks—were a welcome distraction from my nervousness.
“What’s that?” I asked.
“Never be early for anything,” he said. “Not for meetings, not for deadlines, nothing.”
I laughed. “I was nervous,” I explained. “I didn’t want to make a bad impression by being late.”
“I’m glad you’re early,” he said, his smile doing things to my stomach that I was certain weren’t nerves. “Gives me a chance to show you around. You look very nice, by the way. Much better than the slobs I have to work with every day.”
Dan was dressed in dark gray trousers and a blue button down shirt. He looked striking, but I expected one of the owners of a firm to be dressed in nothing but suits. I guessed I had a lot to learn.
I followed Dan behind the partition and tried not to look like a tourist. There was a maze of low cubicles throughout the space beyond, allowing for greater communication among the designers and other workers, I could only imagine. Dan kept a running commentary as he showed me through the office. The latest technology glittered on every surface—computers with monitors bigger than I’d ever seen, stacks of books and design magazines in posh bookshelves that crept along the middle of the wall, and an assortment of odd employees.
Dan and I were definitely the nicest dressed in the room that I could see. I suspected he hadn’t been joking when he’d called the other designers slobs. They slouched at their desks, at least one of them wearing torn jeans, and displayed all manner of knick knacks on every surface that wasn’t already occupied by computers or scanners or tablets. There were action figures, candy dishes, junk food wrappers, photos, boxes of crayons, balls of string, everything. It was barely controlled chaos.
“Guys, this is Blue,” Dan said, stopping in front of one grouping of four cubicles. “She came up with the concepts for the Sugar and Spice case.”
Curious heads swiveled around and up from behind those gigantic computer screens.
“Howdy,” I said, trying not to show how nervous I was.
“How’d you come up with that stuff?” asked one of the designers—a guy sporting a Batman shirt.
I shrugged. “Dan pitched me the new products, and that’s what I thought of,” I said. “I don’t know how else to explain it.”
This seemed to consternate everyone.
“Where’d you go to school?” another asked—another guy with thick-rimmed glasses and a scruffy goatee.
“Um, high school?” I asked lamely, knowing that wasn’t what he meant. “I didn’t get a chance to go to college. I was going to go, but something came up.”
They seemed even more agitated at that answer.
“What kind of name is Blue?” This question was from the only girl in the group, whose curly hair puffed out like a halo around her head.
Dan cleared his throat, his brows drawing together, but I headed him off quickly.
“It’s who I am—as well as who I’m going to be,” I said. “I left my slave name in Tennessee.”
The designers laughed at that.
“I always wanted to be called Thor,” admitted the one who hadn’t spoken up—a short, scrawny guy beset by pimples.
“Jemima,” said the girl.
“Master,” joked the guy with glasses.
“Roscoe,” said the guy in the Batman shirt.
“Thor, Jemima, Master, and Roscoe it is,” I said, shaking each hand enthusiastically.
“Oh, great,” Dan groaned, rolling his eyes. “Don’t encourage them, Blue.”
Everyone laughed again.
“Blue, these are the designers who were trying to find a way to satisfy our Sugar and Spice client—the adult novelty store,” Dan said. “They’re working on refining your sketches right now. The client gets here at 10:30. You mind taking a look at what they’ve got and giving them some feedback?”
I went around to each computer, checking out the work they’d done. The naked lady in the middle of being drawn by a crayon looked especially nice on the screen. Her outline even looked like it had been done in crayon, while the crayon looked as real as day.
“I love that texture around the outline,” I said, pointing at the screen. “Gotta love technology. What if that crayon was one of the ones they were looking to market? You could slap one of the naughty names on the side, couldn’t you?”
“Love it,” Thor said. “Love it.” His hands started flying over the keyboard and mouse, adding boxes and text to the picture until the crayon read “Nipple Pink.” For added measure, he continued the outline of the lady to her nipple, and positioned the point of the crayon right at the little bud.
“Perfect!” I exclaimed. “That looks better than I could’ve imagined.”
“We can execute anything in your imagination,” Dan said. “Sometimes, though, it’s the imagination that’s the most trouble.”
I went around to each computer, offering suggestions and tweaks to what the designers had going. All of them were extremely enthusiastic and open to my thoughts. It was rewarding, even if I thought I didn’t deserve it. All I’d done was scribble some things on an order ticket at a nightclub.
“You’ve got an untapped gold mine with Blue, Dan,” Jemima said.
I laughed, shaking my head dismissively. “I think maybe you guys had just been staring at the case for too long,” I said. “All I had to offer were fresh eyes.”
“You gonna hire her?” Thor asked.
Dan grinned. “Maybe. She’s on a freelancer fee right now.”
Master sucked in air. “Keep freelancing,” he said. “Otherwise Dan will put you on salary and work you to the bone.”
“Do you work these poor people to the bone, Dan?” I asked in mock admonishment.
“I’m a real slave driver, let me tell you,” he said, chuckling. “Maybe these guys would do better work if I were.”
“Sugar and Spice is here, Dan,” the receptionist called from the front of the office.
“Excellent,” he said. “I’ll meet everyone in the conference room—you too, Blue.”
Feeling like I was part of the team, I joined the designers in the conference room. It was as sleek and hip as the rest of the office. They set up a slideshow on the console built into the glass table as I watched in astonishment.
“There are so many things I want to learn,” I said, trying not to let my mouth hang open.
“You’d make a hell of a designer,” Thor said bravely. “Who knows where you would’ve ended up if you went to school?”
“Shut it,” Roscoe said. “She’s ours now, school or not.”
The client meeting was fascinating. I took my sketchbook out and took notes, just like the other designers did, on everything that happened. Dan did the pitch, and I was gratified to see how excited the clients were.
“This is exactly what we envisioned,” one of them, a man in a business suit with an acid green tie, said. “This is really inspired stuff.”
Dan had never looked more pleased. When he turned that smile on to me, I melted. He made me feel so important and special with just a simple look.
“I think we’re ready to move forward,” the female client said. She was wearing a low-cut blouse, showcasing what had to be plastic breasts. “Let’s talk format.”
It was hard to keep up with all of the different options Dan presented them with, but I understood what brochures, business cards, and posters were. It was now a matter of deciding how to display the concepts I’d helped come up with.
The meeting was over soon, everyone walking out with smiles on their faces. The designers went back to their desks, but Dan took me gently by the elbow, keeping me at his side.
“Gotta hand it to you, Dan,” the man said. “We were kind of worried that we hadn’t hammered down an approach yet, but this really hits it out of the ballpark.”
“Just had to bring in a fresh set of eyes to the project,” Dan said, looking down at me. “This is Blue, the freelancer behind the concepts.”
Both clients shook my hand.
“I’m sure we’ll be seeing a lot more from you,” the man said. “This is going to be huge.”
“Thank you,” I said humbly. “I’m pretty excited.”
The thrill of a meeting gone well was palpable. All of Dan’s designers on the Sugar and Spice case congratulated me, hugging me and shaking my hand.
“Enough patting ourselves on the back,” Dan said, even though he couldn’t hide his own smile. “We have serious work to do.”
He turned to me and I wondered what my role in all of this was going to be.
“Would you do me the honor of joining me for lunch, Blue?” he asked. “I would consider it a privilege.”
“You would not believe how hungry I am,” I admitted. I’d skipped breakfast at Mama’s nightclub, not wanting to risk getting sick on my big day.
“Are you in the mood for something in particular?” Dan asked as we walked out of the office.
My stomach growled thunderously, startling us both.
“I am in the mood for anything and everything,” I said. “Guess I didn’t realize eating for two would be so hard.”
We walked to the nearest eatery. Several dotted the area, which had to be convenient for people working in the surrounding buildings.
“We have a cafeteria inside the building,” Dan explained as we were seated, “but I like this place a little more. Gets me away from the office, helps me come back refreshed.” He leaned forward, conspiratorially close. “Sometimes, I have a beer.”
I laughed. “Well, don’t let me stop you,” I said. “I, of course, won’t be imbibing today.”
“I’d rather have a water,” he said, raising the full glass in front of him. “To Blue, who saved our asses today with the client. I was starting to suspect they’d go with someone else, but your work was incredible.”