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Here to Stay

Page 3

by Adriana Herrera


  This was not a place I was going with them. I’d be damned if I showed them any sort of bias before I even started working. I cleared my throat, and went with the “this won’t hurt a bit” smile.

  “I can’t promise that I won’t make recommendations for some changes or cuts for the foundation, because it is a significant part of your budget. Almost double what other companies your size are doing in their social responsibility arms. But—”

  I held up my hand, conceding the point they were both about to make. “I realize this is an integral part of Sturm’s. I won’t take that lightly. I assure you.”

  They seemed to relax a bit with that. “We appreciate it and even believe you mean it, but we also know Phil is an asshole and a cheat.”

  I was going to stress again that I would not take sides, when my phone started vibrating on top of my desk and a text from Tariq appeared on the screen. Mitzy and Muffy took that as their cue and stood up in unison.

  “We’ve done enough damage to Phil for today and it’s getting late.”

  I chuckled at their disdain for the CFO and stood up to walk them to the door.

  “Ladies, rest assured we will look at everything before we start making our report.” They nodded and walked out, looking slightly less distressed than when they’d arrived.

  When I got to my desk, I saw that I now had a message from my sister and the phone was lighting up with a call from Tariq. I decided to take his call first in case anything had come up with the project.

  “What’s up, man?”

  “Did you RSVP? Dani and I are going home to change and then heading over there.” I rolled my eyes as I sat back down.

  “RSVP for what? I don’t know if I can go out tonight.”

  Tariq was one of the junior consultants on the team and sort of my mentee. He was sharp as they came and we’d become close since he’d started at Davidson’s over a year ago. He was also the friendliest guy on the planet. When we were on a project, Tariq could get the goods from staff better than the most seasoned veteran, because everyone loved him. Which was just one of the many reasons why I’d picked him to come to Sturm’s. Tariq was as sunny as the Honduran beaches he’d grown up on. I, on other hand, had the broodiness that could only be produced from five generations of mixing Woodside Irish with Corona Italians.

  Tariq helped me to not be such a scowling asshole on the job, which did help. Only downside was that no matter where we were, he was instantly the most popular guy in town. We’d only been at Sturm’s for a few weeks and he was already best friends with Dani Andam, one of the top marketing guys in the company and a bona fide Instagram celebrity. Still, I wasn’t up for socializing, especially after my little interaction with the twins.

  “My dude, check the email. I got a feeling you’re going to be up for this one.” I could hear the grin in his voice. It was impossible to stay pissed when Tariq was around.

  “Fine, give me a second,” I said, feigning exasperation, as I clicked to actually open the email this time.

  Gotham Exiles Club-Happy Hour

  If you’re an ex-New Yorker working at Sturm’s come have a cocktail and shit talk the MTA with me at Rose Dove Gastro Pub.

  Date: This Friday!!

  Time: 7:00-Who cares they got $5 Margs and it’s Friday!

  I was chuckling at the invitation until I got to the end and saw the name of the host.

  Julia Ortiz.

  I coughed, choking on the laugh that got stuck in my throat.

  “Julia’s organizing this?”

  I didn’t have to tell Tariq why I sounded flustered; his favorite new game was giving me shit for mooning after her.

  “That’s right, baby. Julia and a few others have been wanting to do some kind of ex-New Yorkers get-together since there are so many of us at Sturm’s. You know her and Dani are tight, so I got an invite and I hooked you up.”

  Great. I was going to crash her party too, like I wasn’t enough of a pain in her ass.

  “Riq, I don’t know man, it’s not cool to invite people to something you got invited to.”

  Tariq clicked his tongue, clearly running low on patience.

  “Just RSVP, Rocco. You know you’re dying to go.”

  I could lie, but what was the use?

  Shit. I should be more professional than this. I stared at one of the cuff links that my sister had given me for my birthday this year, the nickname my niece used for me engraved in it: “Unca Rock.”

  I was here for them, and I could not get distracted by crushes that were going nowhere. But what would it hurt to go for one drink? Like my sister told me all the time, I had to at least try to have a life.

  “Did you do it?” Tariq was one pushy fucker.

  “Give me a second. I’m thinking.” I was very close to whining.

  “Damn, Rocco, you’re doing the most right now.” Tariq’s voice was tight, and I wasn’t sure if he was really irritated or just laughing at me, but before I lost my nerve I hit yes.

  “Done, you pushy son of a bitch.”

  The cackling on the other end told me he’d been laughing at me the whole time.

  “I knew you’d cave. See you at the parking lot in ten?”

  I nodded distractedly, still looking at the box on the screen that said, “Will attend.”

  I had no idea why my heart thought this was a reason to break out of my chest, but it needed to calm down, and talk to my dick while it was at it.

  “Actually, I’ll see you there. I want to check in on Sofia and Blue.” The mention of my sister and niece mollified him a bit and we ended the call. But instead of calling my sister like I needed to, I clicked on the little icon over Julia’s name that had a picture of her. I leaned in, getting closer to the monitor, and my breath hitched when I saw Julia Ortiz in her natural habitat.

  The photo showed her from the back. I grinned at the idea that, like me, she didn’t believe in putting out too much personal shit for any nut to look at. The cynical New Yorker stereotype wasn’t all bullshit.

  This was a different version of Julia from the one I’d seen. Her curly hair, which so far I’d only seen up in complex braids around her head or buns, was flowing down her back in a huge mass of curls. I stared at the screen, taking her in. She was on the boardwalk on the Brooklyn Bridge in a yellow sundress, showing toned calves and an ass I could write poetry about.

  A New York City girl.

  Her arms were above her head and it looked like she was just strolling along, enjoying the sun. I got a feeling that whoever took that photo only had eyes for her. I felt a pang of jealousy for that person. That she knew them well enough to trust them like that. Her back to them and her arms in the air, free.

  I imagined her turning her face over her shoulder to look at the camera, bright and happy. The way I hadn’t seen her yet. I had my face pressed so close to the screen I could feel the heat of the monitor. I felt a hunger to see this real-life version of Julia. The curve of her neck, those brown shoulders and hair streaked with gold. I imagined her laughing as she walked, and I felt the pull of something I thought I’d weaned myself off for good.

  Longing. A deep and unsettling want. I hadn’t wanted like that in a long time, and this was not the time to start indulging, or the woman to do it with.

  I shook my head and closed the tab with Julia’s profile. Maybe I was better off not going to this thing. This was a dumb idea, and I was already going down a road that could prove problematic. I was about to cancel the RSVP when my cell phone started vibrating on my desk with a call from my sister, Sofia.

  “Hey, sis. How’s you?” I tried not to immediately ask if something was wrong. I worried about her, but I could not take on all of my sister’s problems.

  “Hey, bro. You get some cowboy boots yet?” I could barely contain the exhale when I heard her sounding happy. No disaster on the horizon toni
ght.

  “Not yet, but I saw some little kid ones the other day and I almost bought a pair for Blue. How’s the baby girl?”

  She laughed at that. My sister wasn’t perfect, but she was a great mom to her kid. “Good, she loves staying at Unca Rock’s place.”

  I’d asked Sofia to stay at my place with Blue since I’d be gone for a few months. I had more space in Astoria and lived closer to the train than her little apartment in Rego Park.

  Sofia had gotten pregnant at nineteen when she’d been couch surfing at friends’ houses because she refused to live with our parents or me and was not making the best choices. She’d been on some bad shit for a while, but she got it together once she found out she was having a baby. She tried hard and was a good mom, but Blue’s dad was a fucking idiot and my parents were the opposite of helpful. Which meant that her entire support system was me.

  “Good, is everything all right with you?”

  She took a second to respond, but when she spoke she sounded hurt. “Everything’s good. I’m just calling you to see how you’re doing. I don’t need to have a reason to call.”

  Now I felt like shit. “Sorry, and thanks for calling.” I did a lot better as caregiver than receiver, especially with my sister.

  “You’re welcome. I know you get all twitchy when anyone does anything nice for you, but I swear you’ll survive.”

  I laughed at her teasing and almost missed her asking if I was doing anything fun tonight.

  I coughed, my face feeling warm when I thought about Julia and the Gotham Exiles Club. I hesitated for a moment, but pretty soon I was spilling my guts. “I was thinking of going to this meetup thing. It’s for ex-New Yorkers that work at this company. I don’t know though, it sounds kind of dumb now.”

  “It sounds fun to me. I bet Tariq invited you, and you’re trying to figure out how to get out of it.”

  She didn’t miss a thing, my little sister.

  “Maybe I’ll stop by for a drink.” I wasn’t even sure who I was acting like this. It was just a happy hour, for fuck’s sake.

  “Do it. I want a full report when we talk Sunday.”

  I looked at the clock again—only five thirty.

  I clicked my tongue and gave a sharp nod as if Sofia could see me. “All right, Ms. Bossy. I’ll go. Kiss baby girl for me.”

  “Have some fun, bro. You deserve it.” I wasn’t going to read too much into the fact that my twenty-one-year-old sister, who was trying to raise a toddler on her own, thought I needed to loosen up as I ended the call. It felt like this day had been going on forever, but as I considered seeing Julia in less than two hours my heart sped up.

  Never mind I needed to figure out how to manage that there was a tug-of-war between the owners of this company, and I was the rag doll who would most likely be torn apart. Or the fact that my promotion and getting a bigger place for my sister and Blue depended on not fucking up this project. All of that felt small as I powered down my computer and felt my chest tighten, wondering if I would finally get to see Julia with her hair down.

  Chapter Three

  Julia

  This day had been an entire decade.

  Not only did I spend most of it planning three different program visits that I needed to set up with Mr. Quinn. I also had been a ball of nerves thinking about plans for the evening. I looked at the clock on my desktop monitor and confirmed I hadn’t been at work for ten years, and that as a matter of fact I still had more than an hour before I needed to be at the first Gotham Exiles happy hour.

  I was nervous.

  I’d taken a risk inviting people from the office, because if they all ended up snubbing me I’d have to see them on a regular basis, which would be pretty humiliating. But I was trying to stay positive and remember I was usually pretty good at this kind of thing. Which took my mind right to the one person who made me turn into a bumbling idiot, but I shut that shit down quick. I was not letting Rocco Fucking Quinn worm into my head again. I had enough to deal with already.

  Instead, I veered into getting-ready mode. I was thinking about going to the bathroom to fix my face and do my hair when my phone buzzed with a text from my best friend, Alba.

  Did you do it?

  Alba had decided improving the pathetic status of my Dallas social life was her new life mission. And was the co-creator of my very ill-advised plan to improve it.

  I did it. I am now officially an hour away from one last attempt at making friends at work that aren’t my boss. Although I’ve got a lot on my mind since that big and hot fucker they’ve got reviewing which jobs to cut is now my new official charge.

  Instead of a text, a call from Alba started flashing on my screen after a few seconds.

  “Can you explain?” Her voice was all business.

  I let out a long exhale and rubbed my eyes. “The consultant that’s here to get us ready for the IPO is going to look into the foundation’s programs, and I have to arrange visits for him to go to. I’ll just have to figure out a way to not get fixated on his perfect face and magnetic eyes the color of the ocean.” I wanted to sound mad, but I was sighing, and also thinking that it was Dazzling Blue. That was the Pantone color that looked the most like Rocco’s eyes.

  “Julia!” Alba’s sharp voice made me almost fall over.

  “Jesus, Albita. Chill.”

  “I was saying. Not to worry, ma. You’ll do your best and that’s all that matters.”

  “There’s not really a choice. I have to.” I sighed again, feeling the weight of that whole fucking fiasco.

  “I’m going to change the subject, because we have no ability to change your visits with the hot fucker, and I want to know about tonight. I feel very good about this plan. Salome told me you sent her an invite. It’s still happening, right?”

  “I think so. And yes, I sent her one. I’ve been too scared to check if anyone has canceled, but last time I saw there were like six yeses.” I refused to put the app on my phone, because I knew I’d be checking all day at work. “I picked a stupid name.”

  She balked at that. “Gotham Exiles Club is a fucking brilliant name.”

  “Okay, fine. It’s a great name, but enough about me. What are you up to tonight?”

  “Welp, we were going to go to a trivia night, but it’s raining and I just washed my hair. So instead we’re making lasagna and binge watching something.”

  “Are things still going well with Nicole?”

  “She’s great.” Super vague, on brand. Alba had started seeing Nicole, another student in her master of architecture program, a few months ago, and so far her usual evasive maneuvers seemed to be on hold. Alba was pretty much allergic to anything that even sniffed of domesticity, which was why I found the dinner-and-a-movie-at-home scenario intriguing. I was about to probe more, but she spoke before I could start “getting serious” on her.

  “Back to you though. Babe, you’ve been there for a few months and you didn’t get off to the best start. It takes time. Awesome women like us need to get the lay of the land before we find people that suit us. We’re not just picking up friends randomly, especially if you work with them, because if they suck you’re stuck with awkward lunch room scenarios on the regular.”

  I nodded at the empty room. “True. True. If only we were basic bitches who could just be friends with anyone, life would be a lot easier.”

  Alba made an affirmative sound on the phone. “Alas, we want people who come preloaded with good taste in wine, books, music, and at least a conceptual knowledge of black feminist theory.” By the time she was done listing our preferred friend features, she could barely talk she was laughing so hard. “You’d think it wouldn’t be that hard.”

  “You’d think!” I answered, laughing just as hard. “Seriously though. I hope awesome people show up.”

  Sturm’s was one of those workplaces where everyone seemed to be too cool for re
al life and made me just a bit insecure. But so far, most people had been nice. I just hoped whoever showed up didn’t just come to laugh in my face and call me a loser.

  I had to get out of my feelings stat or I was risking an Alba pep talk, but I knew how to distract her. “The saddest part of not making any friends will be not having anyone to share the amazingness of having a two-bedroom apartment with two and half bathrooms.”

  I knew that would make her laugh. “Wow, that really has been life-changing for you, huh?”

  “You know how New York City apartments are, Alba. You live in one. I have three functional toilets right now.”

  “Yes, it’s remarkable.” I snorted at Alba’s consistent disinterest in my magical bathroom situation. “Back to the meetup, I’m sure people will show. You know the New Yorkers at that company are as desperate as you are to find other people who use the word ‘fuck’ as a noun, verb, adjective, and adverb...in the same sentence.”

  “My fucking peoples,” I said, with a lot more longing in my voice than I intended.

  “Check to see if anyone else responded.” I sighed, but obliged because I knew she was not going to get off the phone until I did.

  Three more RSVPs and two cancellations. “I have a total of seven people. So maybe I won’t be sitting alone at the eight-person table I reserved.” I felt slightly better about the situation as I clicked on the profiles of the newcomers. One was Dani Andam, a fine-as-fuck Ghanaian slash Cuban marketing executive at corporate. Dani was bomb and hailed from somewhere in Manhattan. He was also very popular in the office, so having his seal of approval would give me some street cred.

  “The Insta famous guy I told you about is coming.”

  Alba grunted, “Oh, Mister Product Placement. He gives off mad fuckboi vibes in his photos, but if he’s cool with you I’ll give him a pass.” Alba was also on the Instagram hustle, but was still building a platform. Dani, on the other hand, had like a million followers and counting.

 

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