by K A Young
"Fine, come on, it's no big deal." Now I was praying that she had a normal name.
"Morning, Lizbeth. Morning, Phoebe. Did you both have a good weekend?" Pastry Girl was her usual pleasant self.
"Morning," I said, as cheerful as possible for a Monday morning. "We're happy our first week is over. You know how it is, manic, all systems go, getting into a routine." I was laying the foundation, letting her know we weren't rude, just busy. "In fact, we were so distracted last week that we didn't even ask your name." I crossed my fingers and turned my back on Phoebe; she hadn't moved an inch.
"Oh, that's ok. I'm Molly." She seemed genuinely thrilled that we had asked this tiny piece of information from her and I was relieved that she had such a nice name. I looked over at Phoebe and wasn't surprised that she had the same expression as me. "Are you having your usual?" Molly asked as she reached for the tongs.
"That would be lovely, Molly, thank you." She handed us our pastries and our coffees and we headed to our office.
"You did get that Molly rhymes with trolley?" Phoebe said from behind me, snickering to herself. We were so juvenile at times.
"Don't spoil it, Phoebs." I warned. I had, but I was able to push that aside, hoping that Phoebe hadn't realized it too.
The offices looked different today as we walked down the corridor. Everyone seemed to be buzzing around, a hive of excitement. I thought back to last Monday, thinking it must be a Monday morning thing, but I remember it being quite calm. Phoebe startled me by nudging me. "What's going on? Why the hype?" She asked me the same thing I was trying to figure out.
"No idea, Mr. Anderson isn't back until next week." Then panic hit. "What if he's back early?"
"No, he's on vacation. What could possibly be so important that you would fly home a week early when you could be lying on a sandy beach, sipping a cocktail while the sun is bronzing your nearly naked body... Liz, we need a vacay." I'd lost her to her beach fantasy again. I still don't get the whole appeal. Sand up your bum, sunburn, greasy men leering over woman in string bikinis. What's wrong with a comfy lounger in the shade by a nice pool, book in hand and a bar nearby? Now that is my kind of holiday.
Before we made it to our office the clique chicks, minus Sandra who were huddled by the break room, turned to pin Phoebe and me where we stood with their intense gaze. Shit, that Facebook idea was going to cost us.
Phoebe bolted toward an empty enclave and a second later I followed suit. “Did they see us?” she asked, a little out of breath.
“Uh, I wonder?” I rolled my eyes and was about to tell her how stupid her question was when we were joined by Mona, Nina and Mandy. I glanced at Phoebe, who was not crazy about our odds of two against three.
Phoebe reacted totally like, well, Phoebe. She slammed her back against mine and held up her hands like she knew karate, although one hand still clutched her pastry. “Listen up, I’m totally not in the mood to open a can of whoop ass this morning but I’ll do it if necessary.”
“What?” Nina took a step toward us.
Phoebe sliced her hand in her direction and shouted, “Judo chop!” Nina leapt backwards.
“Stop it, Phoebe!’ I scolded. It was obvious that the clique chicks weren’t here to brawl.
“Hey, listen, I just wanted to thank you both for what you did,” Mandy began. “It was killing me to know that I’d been cheated on but it was worse not knowing with whom. I can’t believe it was Sandra. She is no longer a friend of ours.”
“Perhaps we shouldn’t have aired it the way we did, but we really wanted to expose her. Cheating with your friend’s man…lower than low.” I smiled, wanting them to understand that we had truly come from a place of good intentions.
“You’re right and I’m glad it’s out there for the world to see. She needs to be ousted for the bitch she is. Anyway, thanks again.” They left Phoebe and me standing alone in the enclave.
“You’re proper mental, you know that?” I blurted before turning to stare at Phoebs.
“Yeah, I know.” She laughed and examined her nearly flattened pastry. “Looks like the clique chicks aren’t so bad after all.”
“We’re on their good side now, so no more judo chopping.” I laughed when the image of Phoebe slashing her hand toward Nina came back. “God, Phoebe, seriously. How many fights have you ever been in?”
She tapped her chin. “Counting my high school years?”
“Sure,” I shrugged.
She seemed to be tallying them up. “None.” She left and I could no longer contain my laughter as I followed behind her.
When we reached our office Chrissi was on the phone chatting away with someone. She smiled and held her hand up. I leaned over to Phoebe and said, "I think she wants us to wait."
"Yes, sir, they're here now. Okay, sir, right away. I know, sir, it's exciting. I'm on it now." She hung up the phone and stood. "How exciting!" She lunged for us and hugged us, taking us both by surprise.
"Chrissi, what is going on?" Phoebe asked while prying herself out of Chrissi's arms. I too was attempting to release myself from her grasp, but instead she hugged me tighter and yelped. "Earth to Chrissi!" Phoebe was getting a bit impatient.
"Oh, I'm sorry I won't be here to see where this is going." She finally released me.
"What do you mean? Where what is going? Where are you going?" I asked Chrissi while looking at Phoebe and shrugging my shoulders. Phoebe made a swirling motion with her finger to her temple indicating that Chrissi was mad. I just nodded in agreement.
"I leave in a few weeks. I was only filling in for a few months to help out, but don't worry, you'll replace me. I’m going to follow my dream at becoming a country and western singer.” She smiled and I couldn’t help but notice a little tentativeness in her eyes. That was a big dream and doubts were natural, I guess. “I have scheduled the interviews for next Thursday afternoon." She was talking so fast that I missed half of what she was saying.
"Chrissi, take a breath. Come into our office and start from the beginning." I placed my hand on her shoulder and guided her in to sit at Phoebe's desk. "Now, slowly explain."
She blew out a breath and eyed the two of us as she tried to compose herself. "Okay. John would like to see you both at ten a.m." She clamped her mouth shut, eyes wide and it seemed like she was forcing herself not to say anymore. I looked at Phoebe but she had lost interest and was digging into her pastry. My attention turned back to Chrissi and she continued. "I'm leaving, going home to Nashville.” Ah, that’s where the country singer originated I guess. “I was only hired here temporarily, like John, until they were able to get the company staffed. I just didn’t think I was going to love it here as much as I do."
"Oh," I managed. I was disappointed; I quite liked her.
"You have applicants coming in for interviews Thursday. You’ll find someone great." She too looked a bit disappointed.
"And what did you mean when you said you'll miss seeing where this is going? Where what is going?" I hadn't noticed that I was now leaning in front of her with each hand on the arm rests on either side of her.
"Shall I shine a bright light in her face while you do the interrogation? Good cop, bad cop?" Phoebe snorted before shoving the last bit of pastry in her mouth. I stood up straight and looked apologetically at Chrissi.
"Please, Chrissi, I'm sorry. Go on."
"Yes, right. John would like to speak to you when the official report comes in." She stood and excused herself. I shot a look at Phoebe and now she was interested.
"They know." I said, panic-stricken.
"They do not! Chrissi said it was exciting. If they knew, that certainly wouldn’t be the fun exciting like Chrissi was exuding.”
"Trust me! They know! Let’s get out of here.”
“Are you serious, Liz?”
“Yes, don't make eye contact with anyone, head straight for the main entrance, walk as fast as you can without looking stupid and for God’s sake, don't fall over." We both tried to exit our office at the same time and
managed to get stuck in the doorway. Perfect! Once free we made a beeline for the corridor. "Go, go, go." I pushed Phoebe ahead of me.
"Where are you going?" Chrissi asked as we fled through the desks.
"Keep going, don't look back." I continued to push Phoebe forward.
"I'm going, stop pushing me. I've forgotten my other pastry." She slowed, wanting to go back for it.
"Are you serious?" I pushed her again, straight into Mr. John Thomas' arms. "Oh shit," I said a little too loudly as I came to a stop. Our getaway was foiled.
"Good morning to you too," Mr. John Thomas said while still holding Phoebe in his arms. I just stood there staring, mouth open, embarrassed as hell. "It's been a while since a beautiful woman has thrown herself at me." He smiled down at Phoebe, who blushed and quickly moved away from him. Any other time I would have laughed, but the fear inside of me was eating away at any humor. But then, taking a look at this whole scenario, he didn’t look mad. Maybe for once Phoebs was right. Glancing around again I noticed people were smiling at us. Mona gave us a thumbs up! "I was just coming to see you two." He was smiling too.
"Oh, okay, Mr. John Thomas. What can we do you for? I mean, do for you?" I blundered.
"Let's go to your office." He gestured for us to walk ahead. We walked slowly like we were heading for the noose. Phoebe reached for my hand and we inconspicuously linked little fingers. We glanced at each other and just about managed a strained smile. We passed Chrissi, who looked at us confused. If this was such good news why were Phoebe and I clutching hands like we were dead chicks walking? I suppose our departure did look odd and I released Phoebes’ hand, who seemed to be thinking the same exact thing. Once in our office Mr. John Thomas closed the door and pulled another chair next to the one in front of Phoebe's desk.
"Is everything okay, John?” I was relieved when Phoebe spoke first. “Have we done something wrong?" Phoebe asked while sitting down. Of course there's something wrong—us. We're frauds and he's keeping us entertained until the police arrive. No, that couldn’t be the case. We’d technically done nothing illegal.
"Well, ladies, after you left on Friday I read through all of your replies to the problem letters and well, I have to say I haven’t laughed so hard in years." Phoebe and I reacted the exact same way and stared at Mr. John Thomas with our jaws hanging. "Then I did something unconventional." I had nothing. I was lost. What was he getting at? "I decided to add your column early. It's been live since Saturday morning." Still lost, I just continued to stare.
"And?" Phoebe squeaked, making me jump. I'd been transfixed to Mr. John Thomas since we sat down.
"And Phoebe and Lizbeth, thanks to The American and The Brit, according to our report we have an increase of forty percent in our subscriptions just from this weekend and ratings have gone through the roof." He was beaming. “We’ve also sold more advertising space and that is always a plus.”
"How do you know this was because of us? It could be anything," I asked, still in shock, not believing what I was hearing.
"We monitor everything. We have an entire team dedicated to ratings and trends. We received a massive spike in activity on the site after the issue went live, not to mention the increase in subscriptions. We've had nothing but a slow increase of subscriptions until this weekend. We only made one adjustment—that was adding your column. Plus, thirty four percent of the subscriptions were from women and on Sunday afternoon we had an influx of emails through the server, all heading to your addresses. So you see, ladies, there is no mistaking where our good fortune is coming from."
Phoebe and I looked at each other. I spotted a sparkle of hope in her eyes and she must have seen something in mine because her returning smile was electric. "Wow!" she said. I blew out the breath I'd been holding and slumped back in my chair. They liked us. I let that roll around for a few minutes. They really liked us.
"I'm taking you both out tonight for a celebratory meal. Anderson is thrilled and wants me to properly welcome you to Anderson Media. He can't wait to get back to see you both again. I don't think even he realized that this would happen so quickly." On that he left, leaving us gobsmacked.
Phoebe
Enter the Big Beautiful Bastard
“Holy shit on a stick!” I shouted and leapt from my seat after I had waited just enough time for John to make it back to his office. “They like us, Liz! They really like us!” Liz sat stunned in the chair opposite me. I clapped my hands in front of her face and whispered, “We have something here, Liz, and I finally figured out exactly what it is.” She blinked. That was the best reaction I was going to get at the moment so I continued, “Everything we’ve been taught about being polite and saying the appropriate things in any given moment is all wrong. People don’t want to hear the nice thing. They want the truth.” I laughed. “The hardcore, laugh out loud truth, and we’re just the ones to give it to them. Think about it Liz, our worst qualities are our best qualities in this line of work. That’s why this is coming so naturally to us.”
Liz nodded and finally spoke. “Because we’re assholes without a shred of compassion for the common man?”
“Exactly!” I grinned. She was finally getting my point.
“You really are an idiot sometimes, Phoebs.” Liz shook her head.
“I know.” I began bumping and grinding around the office. “An idiotic asshole that is going to be filthy rich!”
Liz was on her feet. “We are going to be rich, aren’t we?”
“Damn straight!”
“All we have to do is keep being our rude selves and people will love us!” Liz began dancing with me. “Arsehole power!”
“Whoa! There you go, Liz! That’s the spirit!”
We were both fist pumping and dancing around the office like fools when my office door opened and our lives were changed forever. In walked a tall, dark, and beautiful as hell man with dazzling blue eyes and clean-shaven golden skin. I spotted him first and froze. It took Liz a second to realize that we had an audience. She was in the middle of her Hot Damn dance when she saw that I had stopped dancing.
“What the fu—” She began pointing at me then turned her head to see what I was starting at and modified her sentence. “Ollo.” Her face went instantly beet red. “I mean, hello.” Liz always became tongue tied when meeting good-looking men. It was as if her tongue became numb and she lost all motor function. Her speech slurred and she fought to gain control of her limbs. It was a sight to behold.
Mr. Beautiful just laughed. “Hello. I’m looking for the dynamic duo, The American and The Brit.”
After taking a second to gain my composure and straighten my shoulders I beamed proudly. “Well, you’ve found them.”
He shook his head. “No. It has been a few months but unless you,” he pointed at Lizbeth, “have lost twenty pounds and grown three inches and you,” he pointed to me next, “have shrunk five inches and have facial reconstructive surgery, neither of you are who you say you are.” I felt all the blood drain from my face in two seconds flat and the room started to spin a little. We’d had it all for about a total of five minutes before it all came crashing down. “So what’s the deal here, ladies?” The beautiful man who was starting to look like Satan himself, whose eyes I actually considered gouging out, inquired.
“Shit,” Liz whispered. “We really need to be going, right, Phoebe?” Liz grabbed my arm.
“Yes, we…er, have gynecologist appointments. We don’t neglect our pap smears,” I spouted and instantly felt mortified.
The man folded his arms across his well-pressed chest. “Uh huh. Both of you have gynecologist appointment on the same day?” I was really starting to hate this guy. Who was he to call us liars? He didn’t know us; he had no right.
“Yes, we do! Us gals have got to look after our fanjitas,” Liz said firmly. “Now get out of our way you, you…big beautiful bastard.”
His head fell back and a bark of laughter that was unlike any other graced our ears. Liz and I tried to maneuver around him but
he blocked our exit. A quick glance toward the window gave my next move away. “Okay, let’s not do anything that drastic,” Beautiful Bastard said.
“Fine.” I’d had it; I was tired of pretending to be those two ugly chicks anyway. “We’re not the real American and Brit. Well, not the two you’re thinking of. We are, however, an American and a Brit.”
“Phoebe!” Liz shouted.
The way I saw it is I had two choices. Either run, although he’d already foiled that plan, or tell the hard truth. Truth it was. I sat down on the desk, “No, I’m done with this, Liz. This asshat already knows anyway. If he wants to tell Mr. Anderson to dump us after the big rating jump we’ve achieved for this two-bit operation, then fine. So be it.” I may have let it get away from me a smidge there at the end, but as Liz would say, in for a penny in for a pound. “We’ll just take our column to another company. And this time we’ll go in as The American and The Brit because we are the new and improved version that have the faces as well as the talent.” Oh holy effing shit, I had no clue what the hell I was saying but I couldn’t make myself stop. Picking up the phone I asked, “What’s your name?” I didn’t wait for an answer. “I’ll need to tell John that you are responsible for us leaving the company and—”
“Wait!” he commanded. I held my breath with the phone to my ear. I didn’t dare glance up at Liz; she knew me too well and would know that this was all a giant bluff. Beautiful Bastard shut the door. “Listen, you two were my recruits, or at least The American and The Brit were. No one else has met the other team and since the paperwork with their legal names has been corrected, you two are in fact The American and The Brit. And, quite frankly, the surprising rating spike has me held in much higher esteem by Gary and that isn’t something easy to come by.” Slowly I set the receiver down and felt a glimmer of hope. Perhaps we weren’t losing everything after all. I turned around to face him. He looked from me to Liz and blew out a breath, “Okay look, I don’t really care who the hell you two are as long as there are no skeletons in your closets that can come out and bite the company in the ass. There aren’t any, are there?” He narrowed his eyes and leaned closer as if trying to see within the depths of our souls.