Little Miss Lovesick

by Kitty Bucholtz

  As I ate, I tried not to think. At least not about this morning. I really can’t believe I was fired. I’ve never been fired before. But maybe it was for the best because…I couldn’t think of a reason yet.

  I ordered another chocolate croissant, deliberatelynotthinking about what my stress-eating was doing to my figure. What was I thinking fighting with Matt like that? Come to think of it, what washe thinking?

  For a split second I remembered something my mother told me in the fifth grade. “Boys pick on you because they like you.”

  Ha!That isso not true. I can’t even begin to explain how untrue that is. If that were true, it would mean Matt liked me, and he’d made it very clear he was totally over me.

  I wolfed down the rest of my croissant and licked my fingers. Embarrassed, I looked up to see if anyone was paying attention. I wassoupset, but with so many different emotions I didn’t knowhow I felt. Humiliated topped the list. Ashamed was a close second. And guilty because…because…

  Because it was exciting, said a Voice.Exciting to engage in a passionate exchange with him, even if it was a fight.

  I needed therapy.

  I finally got to the office just before eleven. There were a few people working at their desks, but it looked like the office was the usual Monday-Empty. That’s one thing about people who have no time clock to punch. They work around their body clock instead, which often means a few people are in very early, a few work very late, and a lot come and go during the day.

  Personally, I had really gotten to like it. I felt a bit like an entrepreneur. Every dollar I made was only because I really worked for it. No worky, no money. And since I was making a lot of money this year, I was feeling pretty pleased with myself. Until today, that is…

  I waved at Carmen, who was on the phone, as I walked in and nonchalantly strolled to my desk. From the corners of my eyes, I couldn’t see that anyone was paying particular attention to me. Whew. I set up my computer and got to work. GT wasn’t my only client. There was always plenty of work to do. Yeah.

  Around noon, Carmen stopped by my desk. “No flowers this morning. Think he finally got the message?”

  I blinked, trying to register what she’d said. She smiled at my blank look and turned to walk to the kitchen. “I will miss the irises, though.”

  I looked toward her desk at the front of the office. No new flowers. Huh.

  “It’s about time,” I whispered as I went back to work.

  Maybe this really will be a good day, said the Pollyanna voice.

  An hour later, a courier service dropped off an envelope for me. Inside was a typewritten note on expensive, personalized stationary.

  “Dear Sydney, I received your message last week about the flowers and candy. I thought about it and realized you were right — they are a waste of money. So I’ve donated fifty dollars ($50) in your name to Habitat for Humanity. I know that’s your favorite charity. You’ll receive an acknowledgement from them by mail. I hope you have a wonderful day. Love, Dirk.”

  “For crying out loud,” I whispered.

  What in the world was I supposed to do aboutthat?

  Ignore him, said a Voice.

  He’s just trying to get you back, said Another.

  Youcan’t tell him to not give to charity.

  Take his money, and ignore him.

  For whatever reason, I decided the last voice sounded the most reasonable. Habitat was going to be pretty happy that Dirk was trying to make up to me if this continued. I stuffed the envelope in my briefcase and went back to work.

  It was really hard to concentrate, though. I made it to almost four o’clock before I saw Perry come in. He went straight to his office without walking through the cubicle area, without even looking, in fact. I hurried to pack up my things and turn off my computer.

  Chicken! said a Voice.

  I just cannot deal with this right now. I need time to figure out what I should say. Then I can put a professional spin on it without resorting to lying. I hate lying.

  Bawk-bawk-bawk. Chicken clucking echoed in my head.

  Yeah, whatever. I’m outta here.

  I couldn’t believe my luck, but I managed to get out the door and into my car without anyone stopping or even noticing me. My nerves on heightened alert, I drove fast all the way home. As if Perry were actually going to follow me and specifically ask me about GT.

  I was standing in front of the open refrigerator door two hours later trying to decide what to attempt to cook for dinner when someone knocked on the door. I rolled my eyes and sighed. I couldn’t think of a single person I wanted to see.

  I closed the fridge. Ed McMahon would be nice, coming to tell me I won thousands of dollars, but I don’t think he even does that anymore. Arnold Schwarzenegger could rescue me: “Come with me if you want to live.” Complete with accent. Wait, was he still governor of California?

  I looked through the peephole and gasped. I tore open the door and shrieked, “Emily!” For a moment, I forgot all about the fact that she was mad at me, too. All I was thinking was “friendly face.”

  Emily laughed and we tried to hug each other. Her hands were full of bags, though, making it a bit awkward.

  “I come bearing the white bag of surrender,” she said, holding up the bags.

  “Chinese food?”

  “Only best for Sydney-friend, only best for best friend,” she said in a terrible Asian accent.

  “Come on in!” I said, imitating the announcer fromThe Price Is Right.

  We cleared off the coffee table in the living room (when Em is over, we never seem to eat in the kitchen) and laid out the feast. Then we sat on the floor to eat…and to talk.

  “So,” I said.

  “So,” she said, looking at her plate. Then she looked up. Her eyes were shining and she was smiling like she’d won the Lotto.

  “What?” I asked, a little alarmed, but crazy curious as well.

  “When I said I was surrendering, I meant it in a couple ways. First, I’m really sorry I haven’t been around much lately. You’re right, I was sort of keeping a secret. But here I am to tell you what it is.”

  She grinned like the Cheshire Cat. Her fork swirled patterns in sweet ’n’ sour sauce all over her plate.

  “What?” I was so not interested in food anymore.

  “I’m in love!” she shrieked. She fell back against the couch cushions and went all sappy. “He’s sowonderful. Andhandsome. Andfunny. Andwonderful.”

  “You said that one already. So tell me the truth. Do you really like him?” I teased.

  Emily sighed dramatically. “I’m done, Syd. I’m done playing. I’m done having fun. I’m done looking. This is it.”

  Emily hadnever said anything like that before. Never. I was shocked into silence. But I looked into her eyes and I knew it really was over for her.

  “Oh my gosh, Em. You’re not kidding. You’re really in love.”

  She sat up and smiled. I smiled back at her. Then she grinned and I grinned and she shrieked and I shrieked. Then we were hugging each other really tight and she was crying and that made me cry. And then she put her elbow in the sweet and sour sauce and we were laughing again.

  “Wow. I can’t believe it. So does he know? Is he aware that his life as he knows it is over?”

  Em blushed. And I knew. “Nooo. You’re not talking about getting married!”

  “He hasn’t actually asked me yet.”

  “But…?”

  “Yeah, I think we’re going to get married. And soon. We can’t stay away from each other.”

  “How in the world didthis happen? And when? It’s Geoffrey, right? I thought you just met! Tell me everything!” Because Emily is my dearest friend, there was no way I could not be happy for her. Supremely happy. No matter if my love life sucked or not. So we hunkered down with our food and went all girly and giggly.

  As it turns out, Geoffrey (yup, the one I met) is the reason Emily went AWOL on me. Ever since the 4th of July beach party, they’ve been going
fishing together and going for walks in the woods by Lake Dubonnet and all this other romantic stuff. At least it sounded romantic to me.

  And Emily certainly sounded likeshe thought it was romantic. Which is all that counts, I suppose. She couldn’t stop talking about him and how in love they were. I sighed in my head.

  Sorry, getting a bit droopy in the enthusiasm department. I’m really glad for Em. I am. I didn’t think she’d settle down for a long time. But it sure looked like she was ready. And that’s great. Really. It’s just that…

  “I’m really sorry, Sydney,” she said seriously, “that I stopped calling you so much. It’s just that…” She paused and looked worried.

  Great. It was going to be about me. I tried to smile. “Go on.”

  “Well,” she pushed some rice around on her plate while she talked. “It’s just that you have been so unhappy, and I was sooo happy, and I didn’t want to make you feel bad, but I…I didn’t want your unhappiness to bring me down either.” She looked up with a pained, guilty expression. “Please forgive me, okay?”

  What could I say? If I were in her shoes, I’d probably have felt the same way, done the same thing, tried to protect my newfound happiness any way I could. “Of course.” I leaned over to hug her and she hugged me back hard.

  “So, is it okay, I mean, do you mind…would you like to hear everything?” Her voice ended high and giggly.

  “Everything!” I said. “Don’t leave out a single detail.” She was my best friend, darn it. And I was going to be there for her during this monumental time in her life.

  We had a wonderful evening together. We ate way too much Chinese food and talked and laughed for hours. When she left, I cleaned up a bit and went to bed.

  And cried myself to sleep.

  CHAPTER 30

  I TOSSED and turned all night and woke up at 4:19 a.m. with a pounding headache. I got up and took some aspirin, then went back to bed. By seven, I was feeling a little better, so I got up and got ready for work.

  I should’ve stayed in bed.

  When I walked into the office, Carmen motioned me over.

  “Perry needs to see you, but you better get some coffee first. I got the impression it’s not good.”

  I couldn’t remember her ever looking so pensive. That didnot give me comfort. GT must’ve called Perry. I wondered what he said that got Perry so upset. Oh, I was not looking forward to this.

  I dropped off my things at my desk. In a desperate act to put off the inevitable, I plugged in my laptop and turned it on and unloaded my briefcase. Then I went to the kitchen for coffee.

  I stood at the counter for a minute. This was crazy. Yes, it’s my fault, but honestly, Perry knows GT has been extremely difficult to work with.

  Which has nothing to do with you yelling at Matt, reminded a Voice.

  Oh, boy, how was I going to talk myself out of whatever trouble I was in? No, you know what? I’m just going to face it. I’ll get it over with and the rest of the day is bound to be better by comparison.

  I straightened my shoulders in typical hero-going-to-the-gallows fashion and walked straight to Perry’s office. I knocked and went in.

  “Morning. I heard you wanted to see me?”

  Perry looked up. You’d never know that here sat a man who smiled almost constantly. My stomach twisted.

  “Close the door and sit down. Please.”

  I complied. At least he said “please.” That’s something.

  “I got a call this morning from an attorney for Jim and Lisa Carlton. You sold them a house at 219 S. Chestnut Street on January 19th this year. They said you told them they could put in a pool, but now they’re finding they can’t get a permit for one.”

  “I wouldn’t tell someone they could have a pool when they can’t. I don’t think I’d even know if they could or not.” I frowned.

  “That’s why it’s called negligence.”

  “No, I know. I mean, I don’t give that kind of advice. I offer lots of suggestions, but I always tell people they have to talk to the city about licenses and permits. That’s standard.”

  “Well, that’s not what they’re saying. According to the attorney, they passed up a home that had a pool because they liked this one better and you told them they could put a pool in later.”

  “So what does all this mean?” Good thing I had a ceramic mug, not a paper cup. I had a death grip on it.

  “I called my attorney and he’s looking into it. He doesn’t think they’ll win, but going to court will still cost us a lot of money, win or lose.” Perry looked at me hard.

  Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry.

  “Isn’t there anything else we can do?”

  “It’s possible we can settle out of court. That means the jackasses get paid just for raising a stink.” The swearing was an indication that he was mad at them, not just me. It made me feel a tiny bit better.

  “I’m sorry, Perry. I don’t know what to say.”

  “There’s nothing to say until we hear back from the attorney. I’ll let you know what I find out.”

  I took that as my exit and left.

  Holy shit, I was being sued.Sued.I’d never been sued before. I’d never sued anyone else either.And I hadn’t even done anything wrong. I was sure of it.

  I got to my desk somehow. My legs did their thing without me having to think about it. Then I just sat there, staring. I was numb. Then it hit me.

  Perry doesn’t know GT fired me.

  I slumped over and hit my head on the desk. I wished there was someplace to hide. I took a couple of deep breaths and tried to compose myself. I wiped away the wet streaks on my cheeks and went back to work.

  Don’t think. Don’t think about any of it.

  Okay, I need to accomplish something today. I need to get something done. If it kills me, I’m going to find someone a house.

  I went through the new listings looking for something that might appeal to any of my clients. My eyes caught a Mediterranean-style three-bedroom four blocks from the bay. It might be perfect for that hard-to-please older couple I was working with. Now that would be a good day: find the perfect house for difficult people.

  I looked up their number and gave them a ring.

  “Hi, Mr. Robertson. This is Sydney Riley from By the Bay Properties. How are you today?”

  “Oh, hello, Sydney.”

  Something’s not right, said a Voice.

  “I’m calling to let you know there’s a new listing for a home that might be perfect for you. It’s on Wilson Road and has a view of the bay. Would you like to take a drive over there today?”

  “Actually, we’ve already seen the house. My wife and I were driving by when the other realtor was putting the sign up. But thanks for calling.”

  Trying to get rid of me. Definitely not a good sign.

  “What do you think? Do you have some questions I can answer? Would you like to make an offer on it?”

  “The other realtor answered all of our questions, so I think we’re all set. But thanks for your help.”

  My stomach was working itself into a knot. I’d been working with this couple for a month or more.

  “Not what you were looking for, huh?”

  “Well, no, it’s fine. It’s just right, in fact. But we already did the paperwork. So…”

  I looked at the listing on my computer. Terry Adams. “Did Mr. Adams tell you that you don’t need a realtor?”

  “Uh, no. We asked him if he could help us since we were there, and he said he could. In fact, we’re not going to have to pay the full commission since he’s doing the paperwork for both sides.” There was a pause. “It’s business, not personal.”

  I took a deep calming breath. It didn’t make me calmer, though. “Mr. Robertson, I can understand your desire to save money when making such a large purchase. But it’s not just business; it’s about business ethics, too. Did Mr. Adams mention that taking another realtor’s clients is an ethical violation?”

  “Listen, we’re all
set here. Thanks for your help. Goodbye.”

  And then the evil sound of the dial tone.

  Once again, I found myself sitting speechless at my computer. I looked at the time in the corner of my monitor. Wow, and it wasn’t even eleven yet. What a day. What a freaking brilliant day.

  Picking up the phone, I dialed the number on my screen. I was so mad I wasn’t even thinking. Which is probably why I sounded so mean.

  “Hi, is this Terry Adams?”

  “Yes, it is, how can I help you?” He sounded nice, but I’m sure it was his cover for being an unethical creep.

  “This is Sydney Riley at By the Bay Properties. I’m the realtor for the Robertson’s.” I didn’t say anymore.

  Pause. Then, “Oh.”

  “Are you familiar with ethics, Mr. Adams? The unwritten code that realtors respect each other’s clients and don’tpoach them?”

  “Sydney, I’m sorry. I did ask them if they had a realtor. They said they used to have one, but not anymore. I suspected they weren’t being completely honest, but when I pushed, they said no.”

  “So you wrote up a contract and offered them a discount commission so you can sweep in and do both sides.”

  “I asked, they said no. I asked again because I’m an ethical guy, and they said no, they’d like me to draw up the papers. What did you want me to do? Call around town?” Now he was beginning to sound mad. And perhaps…understandably.

  I knew there was a reason I never liked that couple. I was still furious and had no one to lash out at. And no ice cream, either.

  “Sorry. I appreciate you trying.” I tried to force myself to calm down. “Good luck with them.” And good riddance.

  “Sorry about that. These things happen to all of us. I had a turn at being on the other side last year.”

  I sighed and said goodbye. These things happen. Yeah, and they seem to happen to some of us more than others.

  I don’t know how I got through the rest of the day. I was in such a state from the last twenty-four hours that I was afraid to do any important work. What if I wrote up some paperwork wrong? What if I forgot something? What if I put taboo information in the MLS database by mistake? A few months ago, Trent got fined because he put something in the wrong section. It’s crazy.