“Okay, can we talk about the Masquerade Ball?” Cassie asks excitedly. Thank goodness they’re letting me off the hook.
“It’s more than a month away,” Liz says.
“It’s almost the end of July,” Cassie replies.
“Are you in charge of the welcoming committee?” Kayla asks me.
“I don’t know. That’s usually the CFO assistant,” I say.
“That’s you then,” Liz says.
“I may be back with John by that time,” I say.
“That’s not gonna happen. Unless Tony moves fast and conducts interviews, picks an assistant, and lets us do a thorough background check, it’ll take at least six weeks for someone else to take over your job,” Cassie says authoritatively. “And he’s moving at a snail’s pace.”
A look of dismay must show on my face.
“What’s wrong with you, girl?” Kayla asks. “One would think that you hate your job.”
“No, I don’t,” I reassure her. “I was just counting on… never mind.”
Liz turns to Cassie and asks, “Are you going with Bob from Accounting?”
I look at Cassie and smile. “Bob from Accounting? Are you keeping secrets?”
“You’re a tattletale, Liz,” she says.
“It’s not a big deal. We’re both part of this book club,” she glowers as everyone starts to laugh. “Ha. Ha. Okay, so we’re a couple of dweebs.”
“Oh, Cassie, you guys are so cute!” Liz says.
“Anyway, I’m at the welcome table and Bob is with I’m-not-sure-which committee. So we’ll just get to say hi and hello every now and then throughout the ball. It will still be fun,” Cassie says.
“Are you going with anyone, Livie?” Kayla asks.
“No. If I’m going to be heading the welcoming committee, I need to attend to it full-time.” As I say that, everyone bursts out laughing. “You guys, it’s a big thing. I can’t make a mistake.”
“Cassie, make room for Livie at the dweeb’s table,” Liz says and we all die laughing.
“All I know is that this is the only big social occasion on my calendar this year, so I’m going to splurge on my dress,” Kayla says.
“Ditto,” Cassie says. “Liv?”
“I was gonna wear the black gown from last year, but my friends have persuaded me to get something new. So I’m thinking of shopping at the fashion district,” I say.
The conversation then goes in all directions as we talk about hair, make-up, and other girly stuff.
***
I’m back at the office after the great lunch with the ladies. The one thing that I appreciate about my circle of co-workers is that we have a great rapport and we have each other’s backs. Today’s lunch was well overdue.
The FedEx delivery guy is waiting for me with a package in his hand. “For Mr. Antonio Avery,” he says, and I affix my electronic signature on his black box.
“Thanks, Kent.” I read the recipient’s name, but it’s been slightly torn. Since it required my signature, I figure it may be urgent so I go to Tony’s office to give him the package.
I push open the door, only to see the back of a tall woman with her arms wrapped around Tony’s neck, kissing him on the lips. I unthinkingly let out a gasp and promptly shut the door.
I dash to the ladies’ lounge. Liz is there, putting on make-up when she sees me come in.
“Are you okay?” she asks.
“Yes, I’m fine,” I force myself to say.
“Boss not yet around?” she asks.
“No, he is. Just needed to freshen up.”
“Okay, I’ll see you later,” she says as she leaves me alone.
I sit on one of the chairs, not knowing what to do. I wipe at the tears that roll down my face with the back of my hand. I take in a deep breath to collect my thoughts. You’re a fool, Olivia Harris. Did you really think you had a chance? That one night meant nothing. The kiss meant nothing.
I realize that it must have been his wife, Izabel. He wouldn’t be so brazen as to make out with another woman in his office, or would he? I don’t know anymore.
I go to the mirror to fix myself up, but the tear-stained eyes are a give-away. I bend over the lavatory to splash water on my face and, when I look up, I see Izabel come in, looking utterly beautiful and fashionably-dressed in a black and white shift dress.
“Are you alright?” she asks me in a pleasantly accented, melodious voice. She’s the second person to ask me that, so I must look really terrible.
“I’m fine, thank you,” I reply.
She just smiles and then proceeds to retrieve a compact from her purse. She pats her nose with the small powder puff. She looks at her face, turning left and right, checking for any flaws in her make-up. She’s perfection itself. How can anyone say no to her, especially her own husband?
I want to be alone with my thoughts, but the sight of her just makes me want to tear up even more, so I quietly leave the lounge. I have no choice but to go back to my desk. I just pray that he stays in his office till it’s time to go, but one look at his calendar and I remember that several people have appointments with him for the rest of the afternoon. So I put on a mask of indifference and get on with my work.
***
“Henry, it’s good to see you,” Tony says as I usher in Mr. Henry Stark, CEO of Stark Supplies and his last appointment for the day. I tidy up my desk, going through my to-do task list for the next week. I’ve managed to pretend all afternoon that everything is alright with my world, but I’m exhausted and I need to leave now. I must leave now. I don’t intend to linger and say goodnight.
I’m gathering my belongings when Tony and his guest leave his office.
“It was nice seeing you again, Tony,” Henry Stark says as they shake hands.
“Likewise, Henry. I’ll let you know, end of next week,” Tony says. I start walking towards the elevator, as well, but his voice stops me.
“Livie, can I have a word with you before you go?”
I turn around reluctantly and follow him to his office. He stands by the door and, when I’m inside, he gently closes the door behind him. I remain standing in front of his desk, but he motions for me to sit down and so I have no choice but to take a seat.
“I want to apologize for what you saw this afternoon.”
When he says this, I immediately stand up and say, “You don’t have to say anything. Your personal life is none of my business.”
He looks at me and continues as if he didn’t hear me speak. “Izabel can be rather…” he pauses and sighs.
“Please, there is no need to speak of this,” I say softly. “May I go now? I’m really tired.”
Once again, he stares at me in that indescribable way, but I don’t meet his gaze for long and I turn to leave.
“Livie…”
“Goodnight, Tony,” I say abruptly.
“Goodnight,” he replies gently. “We’ll talk again soon.”
***
We never talk again. Or, we do, but only about office matters. I sometimes have the feeling that he stares at me while my back is turned or that he wants to say something. But, I never give him the opportunity. Our primary mode of communication is through email and, for those times when I need a quick response, I’m in and out his office in a flash.
He still hasn’t gotten around to choosing an assistant but I’ve become wary of talking to Cassie about it. I’ve worked with him for two months now, and John has gotten tired of waiting for me so he’s hired someone from the temp agency to take my place in the meantime.
“Traitor!” I say to John over the phone.
“You’re blaming me? Every time I ask Margaret, she tells me the same thing. That Tony hasn’t chosen anyone. I’m starting to get the feeling that you’re no longer on loan.”
“Of course not. But you didn’t have to go replacing me,” I chide him.
“She’s a temp. My heart belongs to you,” he says laughingly.
“Sure it does.” I get it, though. Work was
piling up and he had no choice but to bring in someone else.
“What’s Tony saying anyway?” he asks.
“Nothing. I can’t talk to him about it because I got a dressing down last time. Margaret told on me.”
“What do you mean?”
“I was bugging Cassie and Margaret probably misunderstood. She told Tony, and Tony said I had no business following up with HR.”
“No way!”
“Yes, way.”
“Has he even interviewed any potential assistants?” he asks.
“Not that I know of. I’m here every single day, too, so I should know.”
“Hmmm. Well, I guess we just have to be patient?” he asks.
“Just wait for me. Don’t go hiring anyone on a permanent basis.”
“‘Kay. Talk to you later.” I put down the office phone when my own personal cell phone rings.
“Hi, Mark. How are you?” Mark rarely calls, so I’m curious about why he wants to talk to me.
“Not so good, Livie.” He sounds depressed so I probe further.
“What’s going on?”
“I don’t know. I just need your input on something,” he says.
“Okay, what about?” I look straight ahead and I see Tony coming out of the elevator. Before Mark can say a word, I tell him, “Wait, Mark, now is not a good time. Can we talk later?”
“Livie, I really need to talk to you,” he pleads.
“Did you send back the brochure samples to Washington?” Tony asks me. I shift the cell phone away from my ear and nod. Then, I hear Mark’s loud voice saying, “Livie, are you there? I need you now!” I redden in embarrassment and I see Tony looking incensed. What’s he angry about?
I tell Mark, “I’ve got to go. I’ll call you in a bit, okay?” and then I hang up.
“Is there anything else?” I ask Tony in a dismissive tone since I see him still standing in front of my desk.
“No, you go ahead and attend to your boyfriend. He seems to be in dire need of your attention,” he says scornfully. Jerk!
I speed-dial Mark’s cell and scold him, “Why were you being such a baby? What’s the big urgency?”
“Alicia just told me that she can’t do the long distance thing anymore. It’s getting in the way of her job,” he says in a monotone.
“And?”
“What do you mean – and?” he says angrily. “Obviously, I want to find a solution to the problem.”
“Look, Mark. You’re not an idiot. If a woman says that, she means it. Right now, her career matters to her more,” I tell it like it is.
“I find that hard to believe. Perhaps she wants a commitment of some sort?” He sounds desperate and I just have to nip his illusions in the bud.
“No, Honey, it doesn’t work that way. You’ve known her only a few weeks. It doesn’t sound like she’s fishing for a ring. I may be wrong, but I don’t see it that way.”
The silence stretches on for a long time and then he says, “I thought she was the one. We had such a connection.”
My heart goes out to him. “You don’t know that this is the end. Things can change.”
“Please don’t give me that destiny crap,” he says.
“See who’s the jaded one here?” I say.
“Ah, Livie, you’re right. I’m a realist, you know that. If it happens, it happens. But I’m not going to wait forever,” he says with finality.
“I’m sorry, Mark.”
“Me too.”
After our conversation, I reflect on how different our emotional needs are. Mark’s hoping for the best, but expecting the worst. Melanie never allows herself to fall too deeply in love. Jen has been hurt many times, but still persists in seeing life through rose-colored lenses. As for me, I don’t know what I want… No, I lie… I know what I want, but what I want I can never have. The supreme irony is that he was mine for one night. And it would have been the most extraordinary night of my life for a reason other than the obvious one. But my memory is playing tricks on me, and what may have been unforgettable will never be an image I can look back to.
***
“Yes, Tony?” I ask without preamble as he buzzes me.
“If you’re done talking to your boyfriend, can you please come in? I need you to create a new spreadsheet for me.”
I don’t bother to respond. I put down the phone and go in to see what he wants.
“I’m preparing a report for the Board of Directors. This time, I want to do a trending analysis on the food items we’ve recently introduced in Europe. I want to convince them to roll out the same items here, starting with the West Coast. We’re going to compare like for like. For example, in Europe, our raspberry tarts are selling out. The equivalent here would be our strawberry pie. A comparison will show them what sales increases we should be expecting, if ever.”
“Okay, do you want me to do look at the item sales in all the European stores, or only in certain areas?” I ask.
“All of them,” he responds quickly.
“Is this going to be a to-date report?”
“Yes.”
I give an inward sigh, knowing the amount of work this report entails.
“Do you have a problem with that?”
“No. It’s just that not all the reports are in, so I have to literally send memos to every shop that hasn’t uploaded their data.”
“Then do that,” he says imperiously. Then do that, I mimic him mentally.
“When do you want the report?” I brace myself for the answer since I already know he’s going to give one of those photo-finish dates.
“Yesterday,” he says with the lift of an eyebrow.
I just look steadily at him, as in, ‘stop clowning around, I want an answer’.
“I need it by the end of next week. The board meeting will be on the twenty-second,” he says.
That’s just great! Another Saturday spent at the office. I unconsciously sigh.
“If you don’t think you can handle it, just let me know,” he says challengingly.
Oh, I can handle it alright. You think you can intimidate me, think again! Outwardly, I give him the sweetest smile and say, “No problem. Piece of cake.”
“Really? So why am I getting this feeling that it’s an imposition?” His expression is contemptuous, but his tone is light.
“Not at all, Boss. I will have it ready before the twenty-second,” I promise him. I realize I’ve committed to more than I can handle, but my pride just won’t let me back down.
“Very well,” he says, though he may as well say “you’re dismissed,” like the autocrat that he is.
I’m at the door when he suddenly says, “Your boyfriend, was he the gentleman who paid you a visit last time?”
I slowly turn on my feet and gawk at him like a child lost for words. Where did that come from?
“Excuse me?” is all I can say,
“Just curious,” he says without explanation.
“I don’t think that’s any of your business,” I croak.
“No, you’re absolutely right, it’s not… But, is he?” he asks again.
“Why do you ask?” I say weakly.
“Just wondering what kind of a knobhead would leave his girlfriend on the dance floor and not even care that she’s having it on with another man?”
I feel my face getting red and my temper rising to volcanic level.
“You don’t have the right to talk that way. Mark’s a friend, nothing more. And even if he were my boyfriend, so what? You know nothing about him or me, so just back off!”
He stands up and quickly moves towards me. He touches my arm and whispers, “I’m sorry, Livie. I just thought that you and he…” He looks away hastily.
“He and I what?” I toss my head and look at him unflinchingly.
His shakes his head slowly and goes back to his desk. He looks unsure, shocked at my strong reaction. “I apologize for my rudeness. I don’t know what came over me.”
I don’t know what he’s trying to say
or do, but I’m done with him. Without another word, I hurriedly walk to my desk, take my purse, and run to the elevator. It’s three in the afternoon, but I get into my car and drive away. I am seething. That’s what he thinks of me? Someone who ‘has it on’ with strangers while my boyfriend’s elsewhere? You know nothing, Tony Avery. Nothing at all.
I put down my window and let the breeze blow through my hair. I drive around, to nowhere in particular, my thoughts going every which way. I feel free and exhilarated. Human Resources has probably already received a notice of my termination. I don’t freaking care! Tomorrow I’ll worry again about my mom, the rent, and the bills. Right now, I just want to feel the wind on my face.
CHAPTER 8
I just had a quick shower and I’m now hanging out in the kitchen on a Thursday morning at nine AM. I pour myself a cup of tea, put a teaspoon of honey in, and squeeze some fresh lemon into it. I bring my cup and a package of madeleines to the small dining table. I prop up my tablet and turn it on so I can read the news. So this is what it feels like to be home on a weekday. I smile to myself. Not bad at all. The voice at the back of my head is telling me stop acting like a child but I silence it.
I take a sip of my tea and see Jen running to the door. “Late again?” I ask, knowing the answer.
“Oh my God, you startled me!” she says. “Why are you here?” she says with a look of concern. “Are you sick?”
“What? Like I can’t take a day off?”
“No… but you never do. What’s going on?”
“You’re right. I’m not feeling good. It must have been something I ate.” I have no choice but to lie. I really don’t want to talk about what happened with anyone. Not yet.
“You’re not feverish, are you? I could run to the drug store.”
“No, no. I’m okay. I just need to rest. Go! You’re already so late.”
She runs to give me a quick hug and says, “Want me to bring chicken soup at lunchtime?”
“No, thanks. I’ll just have toast or something. Please go!” She blows me a kiss and leaves. Jen is a junior web developer at a start-up company up in Northridge. They’re very lenient with time, so she shows up at work at half past nine or ten and they don’t mind at all.
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