Unraveled (Jersey Girls Book 1)

by Lisa-Marie Cabrelli

  “And?” Claire pulled her legs to her chest and leaned toward Sally. This was getting interesting.

  “He’s a painter, Claire. An artist and a waiter: my worst nightmare.” She laughed and Claire was surprised to see a huge smile on her face.

  “Oh my God, Sally, you’ve been at Tod’s, haven’t you?” she screamed. “You’ve been with Tod for the last four freaking days! I have been worried stiff and you have been getting shagged silly?”

  Sally stood, still smiling from ear to ear. “No, I haven't! It wasn’t like that, if you must know. Do you want a glass of wine? I haven’t had a drink in four days. Do you want to hear the rest of the story, or what?”

  “Yes and yes!” said Claire, knocking pillows all over the place as she scrambled up to join Sally in the kitchen.

  “Well, I followed Chris and he led me to this amazing loft down by the PATH station. I mean, maybe amazing is a generous word. It’s dirty and empty of furniture with just a bed out in the wide open, but it has paintings—mind-altering paintings. Tod’s paintings.” Sally pulled a bottle of Kendall Jackson out of the fridge and poured a glass and a half for each of them. “Tod was there, waiting for me. He ordered Thai food and took me around the loft, showing me every painting and explaining why he had painted it, what he was trying to express, what he had been feeling at the time..." Sally trailed off and shook her head. "What had been going on with his life, you know? Stuff I never thought about before when I looked at art. It was an incredible evening.”

  Claire pulled out a chair to sit with Sally at the kitchen table, but she then changed her mind and went for hummus and chips. “First of all, that sounds fabulous. Second, I’m confused. Didn’t you just say that you wanted to talk to me after that because you were upset? Why would you be upset about that? You had an incredible evening with a lovely man.”

  “I had a meeting story, Claire. I didn’t just have an incredible evening, but I had a meeting story with an artist and a waiter. That’s why I was upset! I’m supposed to have a meeting story with a stockbroker, or the guy from work who offers me a ride home in his BMW. I am not supposed to have a meeting story with Tod.”

  Claire started laughing. “You told me you didn’t get to choose, remember? I think it’s fate getting back at you for trying to be so controlling. You could do a lot worse than Tod, Sally—he’s a great guy, and maybe one day he’ll be a famous painter! You need to give the poor guy a break. I bet you have spent the last four days ignoring the poor soul, so you should call—”

  “He’s been painting me,” Sally interrupted, taking a huge gulp of wine.

  Claire stared at her, taking note of the smile that seemed completely and involuntarily frozen to her face. “He’s been what?”

  “He’s been painting me. That’s where I have been for the last four days. I haven’t been sleeping with him, oh, you of little faith. I have been sitting for him for hours—sometimes all night. We have been talking about everything from religion to politics to how many children we want. One for me, four for him, in case you wondered. Anyway, we didn’t even kiss until I left this morning. He let me have his bed and he slept on the floor, and I wanted to climb out and jump his bones, but I didn’t, because I didn’t want him to think less of me, and I didn’t want to mess up his painting, and oh my God, Claire, I think I’m in love!”

  Claire threw head and arms back dramatically, “Sally, that is so romantic that it is almost unbearable. Yay,Tod! I love Tod!” She sat forward and gave Sally a hard stare. “He’s an artist and a waiter, Sal, so you had better come to terms with that now. I don’t think poor Tod could withstand the tsunami of your affection followed by the heartbreak of your rejection.”

  Sally poured them another glass of wine and was laughing. “I’m to terms. What do I need a BMW for when I have a painting of myself hanging in my bedroom?”

  “Good,” said Claire. “I want to hear every detail.”

  By the time Sally had finished telling Claire the story of her dreamlike four days, they had migrated back to the couch and finished the bottle of wine. Claire was conscious of conflicting feelings in her gut, and out of nowhere, she realized she was going to cry. She was so thrilled for Sally, but she suddenly felt sad, and before she knew it, she was sobbing on her best friend’s shoulder. She blamed half of the outburst on the wine and the other half on the stress of the last week, what with Maureen, work, and Sally. Now she realized that, most of all, it was due to Satish, and her mind felt like it was going to explode.

  “What on Earth is up with you?” Sally frantically patted her back and stuffed a napkin between her best Calvin Klein t-shirt and Claire’s mascara-loaded waterfall.

  “I think I am having an affair with my boss and he doesn’t even know it!” Claire sobbed.

  “You’re sleeping with Nick?” Sally pushed her away with force and Claire couldn’t help but laugh at the expression on her face.

  “No, not Nick! Satish! I think about him every minute. I try to find excuses to go see him. I talk to him on the phone every night—”

  “Wait, you are calling him?” Sally interrupted.

  “No, he’s calling me.”

  “He’s calling you?”

  “Sal, could you stop for a minute and listen?” Claire put her hand over Sally’s mouth and laughed at her saucer-sized eyes peering over her fingers. “I need to explain what happened. I was helping him with a… a problem a few days ago, and so I said he should call me at home that night, and he did. It just got to be a habit. He has called me every night since. That’s who I was talking to on the phone just now.”

  “Okay,” Sally said, grabbing another napkin and wiping under Claire’s eyes at the giant, black smudges. “First of all, we need to put waterproof mascara on our shopping list, because if Satish saw you looking like this, he’d be running. Second, what do you mean he doesn’t know you are having an affair? I mean, if he is calling you every night, he obviously has the same feelings, right?”

  Claire moved to the bottle and shook the dregs into her glass. “I don’t know, Sal, I just don’t. I was kind of the aggressive one, you know—I forced him to go out to breakfast one day when I was feeling down. He is such a nice man, and I’m not sure if he is just being polite.”

  Sally laughed, “Ooh, breakfast—that is aggressive, Claire! No man calls you every night to be polite. Are you talking about work?”

  “No,” Claire sniffled.

  “Well, then, it’s settled: he’s got feelings for you, too. Why don’t you bring it up?”

  “Are you insane?” Claire said, “He would probably die of embarrassment. He’s very polite.”

  “So you’ve said, Claire, but you can’t go on feeling this confused. Let’s talk through everything that’s happened and we will look for clues and figure out the best approach. I’ve gotta tell ya, now that my meeting story has happened, I am even more sure you’ve have had yours. Come on, start from the beginning.”

  Claire pulled a blanket off the back of the couch and spread it over their laps. She was feeling much more cheerful. Sally was here, and all felt manageable. “I am so glad you are home. I need your help on so many things. Wait until I tell you about Maureen!”

  16

  Satish

  The following Monday, Satish sat in his office, staring at the package on his lap. He picked at the strings tied tightly around the thick, brown paper and gave himself another pep talk. You will tell her, he thinks for the thousandth time. You will tell her, and you will end this. He stood with a sudden rush of strength, gripped the package, and strode forcefully out of his office. You will tell her in person. Today—now. You will not call her again tonight.

  The first night, he had told himself he was calling her because he needed her and the second night was because she had shared with him her concerns about Sally and she needed him. It was on the third night that he’d realized they needed each other. They could talk so easily and they laughed together. He’d felt the need to write a list during the day
of things he wanted to discuss when they spoke that night. He knew these were all signs of something unique. Could he be falling love with her? That couldn’t happen, and he had to tell her why. He was leaving on Saturday for India and would be gone for two weeks, which should give them plenty of time apart to get each other out of their systems, once they agreed that this, whatever it was, was a bad idea.

  He stopped abruptly outside her cube, feeling shocked. Angry, spiteful voices were coming from inside, and he had never heard Claire being either angry or spiteful.

  “What is wrong with you? It must be here somewhere!”

  “Nadia, I can’t find anything. This stuff all looks like work documents to me. Maybe it came via email and she hasn’t printed it out, yet.”

  “It’s too soon. She must have made the reservations. I need that flight number—keep looking!”

  Satish didn’t know what these two individuals were looking for, but he certainly wasn’t going to give them the opportunity to find it. “Is there something I can do to help?” he asked as he stepped into the opening. Inside were two women: one he didn’t recognize, who was on her knees in front of Claire’s desk, about to open the drawer of a filing cabinet, and Nadia Carlson. What was it that Claire had said about her? Nadia was thumbing through a stack of papers on the desk, licking the thumb of her overly-manicured hands between flicks. Satish hated that habit.

  Nadia started at his voice and turned with such a guilty expression that he knew they were up to no good. He could not imagine what it was, but he would put a stop to it at once.

  “I need a paper Claire borrowed from me,” Nadia blurted out as her friend leaped to her feet and turned bright scarlet.

  “Well, I think you might have an easier time finding it after she returns, don’t you?” Satish raised his eyebrows and looked Nadia straight in the eye.

  “Certainly, Mr. Bhatt. Come on, Trisha. We’ll check with Claire later.” Trisha scurried out of the cube like the Energizer Bunny, but Satish stepped into Nadia’s path and she pulled up short. She had regained her composure, now, and she gave him a bored, haughty stare.

  “You are acquainted with our company ethics policy, I would assume,” Satish said.

  “Of course, Mr. Bhatt. We all take the class, don’t we?”

  “Yes, we do. I’m glad of that, because that means you are aware that breaking any of our rules of ethics is a dismissible offense. One of those rules, as you know, is respect for the privacy of others.”

  “Of course, Mr. Bhatt.”

  He stepped out of her way and she glided past him on her four-inch heels. He didn’t like her. Satish scribbled a quick note for Claire to meet him in his office while wondering where she was—she was always here right before lunch.

  17

  Claire

  As Nadia stormed away from Satish, fuming and muttering under her breath about people thinking they are big shots and was there no such thing as paying your dues, anymore, Claire stood in front of Nick’s desk, trying to keep her composure. He was trying not to look at her—trying to appear nonchalant—but she could tell he was angry, and she wriggled with spiteful pleasure.

  So, the Global vice-president is so very happy with the work we’ve done on the project that he doesn’t mind the extended timeline. Funny! I wasn’t aware that we were doing any new work on the project.” He looked up at Claire when he said this, and his anger wiped away her smile. She needed to be careful, as she wasn’t entirely safe from his influence and power. “He has asked for an all-day review of the requirements with his top salespeople at the sales kick-off event next week. Since I can’t talk about requirements that I didn’t even know existed,” or could never understand, she thought, “you’ll have to go the sales kick-off with me. I am assuming you have a passport.”

  “Yes, of course I do,” Claire said, “but the sales kick-off is in Rio.”

  “Brazil, correct. Do you have a problem with that?” Nick tried to look absorbed in a paper on his desk, but she could tell he was steaming.

  “No, I… of course not. What do I do?”

  “I’ve added your name to the list of general attendees. They already made reservations, so they will have to add you onto the same flight as the rest of the team. You need to start working on a presentation of the requirements—one that these sales guys can understand. Bring it down to their level, if you know what I mean. Get me a copy of it, too, so I can give you my feedback.”

  “Sure, Nick, I will work on it today. When do I leave?” Claire tried to dampen her excitement about going to Rio.

  “We leave next Tuesday night.” Nick walked to the door of his office and gripped the handle. Claire headed toward it, assuming he was opening it for her, but he didn’t.

  “Claire, I want you to know I am disappointed in you,” Nick said. “I specifically asked you to recycle the existing requirements and not extend the timeline that I had committed to with the sales VP. I also told you not to involve Satish Bhatt. You completely ignored both instructions.”

  Claire felt a flash of anger, “Wait, Nick, Phil had jury—”

  “No excuses, sweetie, please. It worked out fine in this case, because for some reason, Satish covered my ass. The point is that I have lost a little of my faith in you. It will take some work on your part to show me that you are ready for this promotion—you’ll need to regain my trust. We can talk more about next steps in Rio, okay?”

  Claire moved closer to the door and even considered touching him to move his hand from the knob, but she couldn’t do it. “I will continue to do my job, Nick. I am trying to stick to my principles and do what I think is right for the business. I think it’s important to stick to your principles, don’t you?”

  Nick stared at her hard. She knew he was trying to intimidate her, but she held his gaze. He pulled open the door and his voice boomed through the office, “Thanks for all the good work, Claire. I’m glad you are such a fast learner—or maybe it’s just my excellent coaching! Ha, ha, ha!”

  His fake chuckle echoed in the hallway, and heads turned in her direction as she floated back to her desk. Claire was not going to let that pig ruin her mood—she was going to Rio! She couldn’t wipe the grin off of her face. She would stop by and give Sally the good news before going straight to Satish to thank him for talking to the Global VP. Maureen had been right about the power of Satish, and she would have to thank her, as well, and tell her how gross Nick had just been. She would get a kick out of that story, since Maureen still firmly believed Nick would be stupid enough to hit on her. Claire hoped he wouldn’t.

  When Claire stuck her head over Sally’s cube, Sally shushed her before she could even get a word out. She gave a desperate and not-so-subtle jerk of her head, which Claire assumed meant she was supposed to follow her, and hurried off to the nearest stairwell. Claire followed, annoyed at the delay in her news, but slightly amused by Sally’s secret agent dramatics. When they got down to the first floor, her best friend yanked her into the closest conference room and slammed the door.

  “You are going to Rio! Woo..hoo!” Sally started doing a bizarre dance around the conference room involving a lot of shoulder shimmying and doing the limbo under an invisible bar. “At the Copa, Copacabana, music, and playing, and lights, and la, la, la. At the Copa, Claire and Satish fell in loooooove.”

  Claire jumped into one of the chairs and tried to roll it far away from Sally’s theatrics, pushing frantically with her feet. It wasn’t far enough, though, and a limbo went tragically wrong and Sally landed on Claire’s feet.

  “Ouch!” She gasped out between giggles. “You are nuts, Sal. They don’t limbo in Rio—and I don’t think Barry is singing about that Copacabana. How did you find out, and how do you know Satish is going?”

  Sally pulled herself up off the floor, rubbing her right hip. “Ouch is right! I think my limbo days are over before they have even begun. What a sad statement on my life. Where do they limbo, then, Hawaii?”

  “I think so. So?” Claire waited f
or Sally to plop herself into a neighboring chair.

  “So, I found out, because our dear friend Nadia is on the war path. She found out that someone added your name to the list and she is taking it as definitive proof that you are sleeping with Nick. We are going to need to pay very close attention to her, Claire. I don’t know what you did, but she is after your hide—tanned and stretched.”

  “Yeah, well, I might be able to explain that one. We had a little run-in while you were out.” Claire relayed the cafeteria scene blow by blow.

  “Way to go, bitch!” Sally gave Claire a high-five that made her hand tingle. “Anyway, you are right,” Sally continued. “I think you have really pissed her off. Now, hmm, what was your second question?”

  “How do you know Satish is going, you tease? Oh my God, Satish is going? What do I do?”

  “I know he is going, because I asked Stephanie, who is booking the arrangements. This is your chance, Claire. You have one night free on the agenda, so why don’t you ask if he will go to dinner with you? If he says yes, you’ll know there is something going on. If he says no, well, then we will have to come up with another plan.”

  “I don’t know, Sal. Isn’t that a bit forward?”

  “What are we living in, the 1950s?” She grabbed the arms of Claire’s chair and jiggled her violently. “What, you need a Sadie Hawkins dance to invite a guy to a friendly dinner? Get with the program, darling. He is a little too reserved, so maybe he needs some support from a modern, enlightened woman like yourself. You asked him to breakfast, didn’t you?”

  Claire held up a finger. “That was different. That was…I don’t know.”

  “Hey, it’s up to you,” Sally said, “but I think you should take the advice of a master of love and relationships. All you need to do is look at my desk.”