by M. Malone
“Her pussy was special.” At my glare he holds his hands up. “Not trying to piss you off. I’m just saying. You wanted to get laid. You got laid. Now it's time to move on.”
“Maybe you're right. If I can't find her that has to mean something.”
“It does mean something. Clearly it was meant to be a one time deal. Maybe Casey was just dumped and wanted to have some revenge sex to make herself feel better. Maybe she’s a bored housewife who was using you for a thrill while her husband was away on business. Hell, maybe that’s not even her name and she’s actually an undercover agent with the FBI. Does it really matter? It wasn’t like you really knew her, right?”
His words poke at a sore spot inside that I don’t want to examine too closely. Everything he’s saying is correct. We spent most of our time talking in a loud, crowded bar and then the rest of it sliding our tongues over each other’s skin. Can I really pretend that what we had was some deep, spiritual connection?
She didn’t even get my name right.
I can blame that one on the crowded bar, but it’s probably a little crazy that I’m this upset over the way our night together ended and she doesn’t even know my name.
It shouldn’t bother me so much but it does.
Jason stands. “You had a great time and now it's over. Count yourself as lucky. Most guys have trouble getting rid of their one-night stands. Yours did the hard work for you.”
After he leaves, I sit for a while taking things in. I’ve been an asshole to everyone for the past week and I’m sure Jason drew the short straw on who would come in here and have a talk with me. This is a critical time for my company. We’re expanding from menswear and working to make ourselves a complete brand that sells everything for men and women, including accessories and even perfume. If there’s ever been a worse time for me to have my head out of the game, I can’t think of it.
I have to let it go.
7
* * *
Two months later…
* * *
“I am not having this conversation.”
I pick up my headset, completely prepared to ignore the inappropriate conversation happening behind me. I’ve been working as a receptionist at Mirage Advertising for two months now and as cheesy as it is, I feel I’ve finally found home. I can wear business-casual attire, I have plenty of free time to do the assigned reading for my online classes and the office manager, Anya Petrova, is quickly becoming my best friend. Even though she loves to make me really uncomfortable.
“Why not?” Anya puts a piece of paper down on the copier tucked in the corner behind me. “Seriously, I miss sex. Don’t you? When was the last time you got laid?”
“You want a timeline?”
She rolls her eyes. “That tells me you don’t remember. Which is a problem. We need to go out this weekend.”
“The only place I’ll be going this weekend is the refrigerator for more ice cream, not to some bar to pick up strangers. I’m staying away from men remember? It’s kept me out of trouble so far.” I adjust my headset and pull my chair closer to the desk.
Anything to distract myself from thoughts that it wasn’t too long ago that I got really up close and personal with a stranger.
And it was definitely trouble.
“Who said anything about a stranger? Friends with benefits is a thing for a reason.” Anya pushes another button on the copy machine. A second later there’s a crunching sound and a piece of paper shoots out wrinkled and torn.
“Damn this place! I told Law we need a new copy machine.” Anya grabs the sheet of paper and crumples it into a ball before throwing it in the recycle bin. “That man can’t see what’s right in front of his face.”
I wisely choose not to comment. Anya has a not-so-secret crush on our boss, James Lawson, which causes her no end of frustration.
“Friends with benefits only works if you have friends. I’m not exactly Miss Popular.”
I’ve always been something of a loner but since moving to the city it’s been even harder to meet new people. Sure, I could probably hang out with my roommate Ariana but I don’t want to wear out my welcome. It isn’t that she hasn’t been nice to me, she has. But I sometimes get a vibe that she’s not interested in hanging out or getting too close with me.
Plus, to be honest that girl is into some weird stuff. I cringe just thinking about some of the things I’ve come across by accident in the apartment.
Let’s just say I’ll never borrow clothes from Ari again.
“You haven’t met anyone since you’ve moved here?” Anya shakes her head like she can’t understand the concept. “Not even a hot neighbor walking his dog or something?”
The way she says it makes me feel like even more of a loser. Most of my neighbors work long hours. I only see them in passing as they come to and from work. The people I see at the grocery store and on the subway seem to change daily.
It’s such a stark contrast to Gracewell, where everyone knows each other and crime is almost nonexistent. The entire atmosphere of city life is different. My first week on the job, I thought everyone was talking to themselves until I realized they all had little bluetooth earpieces in. Some of the women in the office even wear them in the bathroom. I can’t think of anyone I want to talk to that badly.
It’s no wonder I have trouble fitting in.
Anya puts something on the desk in front of me. It’s an internal memo for the Preview Gala, a company event that showcases the agencies best design work for the past year and introduces our newest campaigns. It’s all the marketing executives have been talking about for the past few weeks.
“The Preview Gala is the perfect opportunity for you to meet people. Obviously Law doesn’t want us dating current clients but lots of our past clients come and they’re fair game. This will be a good chance for you to network. You know, now that you’re working with the marketing team.”
Recently, I’ve been given some marketing duties in the afternoon while Anya covers the phones. I still can’t believe it. This is the kind of chance I didn’t think I’d get until after I graduated. I’ll get to work on some interesting projects and gain experience for my resume. It also gives me a break from the tedium of being stuck behind the reception desk.
“I’m really excited about it. This is the first time I’ll actually get to use some of the stuff we’re learning in school. Hopefully I don’t screw up too badly.”
Anya waves that away. “Don’t worry. Mya is so cool to work with. I assisted her a few times before I got promoted to office manager.”
Mya is married to one of the other team leaders, Milo Hamilton. Tall with piercing blue eyes, he looks more like a model than an advertising executive, something that seems pretty common around here. I fidget and adjust the buttons on my new blouse. Since so many of my clothes didn’t fit properly I was forced to pony up the dough for some new ones. But sitting at the reception desk gives me a front row seat to what everyone else is wearing. What worked in Gracewell definitely doesn’t cut it here.
I need to step it up.
An hour later, it’s time for lunch so Anya comes back to relieve me. As I’m getting ready to leave, Mya stops by.
“Hey, Casey. I know we were supposed to start you on our next project but I think we should postpone it. I don’t want to throw you into the deep end right away and the client that’s coming in tomorrow is a little…difficult.”
“An asshole,” Anya mutters behind us.
When Mya turns to look at her, Anya drops her eyes back to her computer screen. “Figured I’d say what we’re all thinking.”
Mya sighs. “She’s right. This guy is not an easy client to deal with so usually Milo and I handle him together and leave the rest of the team out of it. There’s no reason we should all feel like shit.”
“That bad, huh?”
“Unfortunately, yes. He wasn’t always like this which makes it so weird. He’s a fashion designer so maybe it’s to be expected. Aren’t they always super demanding
and with diva-sized egos?”
I can’t pretend I’m not a little scared to start with a client from hell, but one of the major points of working with the marketing executives is to find out if I have what it takes to work in the industry. Watching how two seasoned professionals deal with a tough situation is valuable experience for me.
“If you don’t mind me being there, I’d still really like to help. I’m sure watching how you and Mr. Hamilton deal with a difficult client will be a great learning experience for me.”
Mya nods once. “Good point. I’m impressed. After lunch, I’ll bring you up to speed and give you some notes to review before tomorrow’s meeting. If you keep this up, you might be working here on our marketing team one day.”
Once Mya walks away, Anya gives me a thumbs up.
“Did you hear that? Or did I just hallucinate?” The idea that I might actually get hired on the marketing team is too much for me to handle. Mirage is an exclusive agency. They only handle high-end clients, usually Fortune 500 companies and celebrities. This is not the kind of place where you get hired straight out of school unless you’re Ivy League.
“I heard that,” Anya holds up her palm for a high-five. “You’ve got this in the bag.”
“Not quite.” I bite my lip. “But what I have is a chance. As long as I don’t do anything to screw it up. Which is a real concern. I have a long history of screwing up at the worst possible moment. And if this client is as bad as she thinks?”
“He is. I’m not going to lie. But there’s one good thing about the client from hell. He’s grade-A eye-candy. Seriously. You need to have a drool rag handy.”
“That good, huh? I thought you had your eye on a certain someone else.”
Anya purses her lips. “Maybe I do. Maybe I don’t. But that doesn’t mean my eyes don’t work. You’d have to be dead not to lust after Mr. Lavin. Trust me, you’ll understand once you see him. Just try not to make eye contact or you might turn to stone.”
I take a deep breath. I can do this. First, I’ll get lunch and then I’ll come back refreshed and ready to go. Once Mya gives me some notes to review about the client, I can spend this evening studying up.
Nothing is going to ruin this for me. Especially not some random asshole.
The afternoon passes quickly and by the time five o’clock rolls around, I’m worried my brain is going to explode. Mya is so patient and explains any marketing terms that I’m unfamiliar with but even with her help, it’s obvious that I’m completely out of my depth.
Not that I thought this job would be a cakewalk but I definitely thought the marketing classes I’ve already taken would have given me more to work with. Instead all I’ve discovered today is how much more I need to learn.
I trudge up the stairs to my apartment, ignoring the slight burn in my thighs. Ever since I moved in, I’ve been determined to keep using the stairs. At least I can make it without feeling like I need an oxygen tank now.
When I walk in, Ariana looks up from her perch on the couch and smiles politely. Oreo barks at the sight of me and then goes back to sniffing her butt.
Yup, that’s about how welcome I feel around here.
“Hey there. You’re home early.”
Ariana shrugs and then clicks another button on the remote. “I changed shifts with another nurse.”
She doesn’t volunteer any other information and I take that as a hint not to ask. At first, she was a lot more welcoming and seemed like she’d be a cool new friend. But over the past few weeks, she’s withdrawn a lot and I’m starting to wonder if she regrets allowing me to move in. Especially since she only did it as a favor to Mya, who was her previous roommate and her best friend.
I’m sure living with me is nowhere near as much fun as living with her bestie.
“Do you want me to move out?” I blurt before I can debate the wisdom of poking a sleeping bear.
Ariana looks up in surprise. “What?”
Well, it’s already out there now so there’s no point in trying to walk it back. Maybe clearing the air will make things less tense around here.
“You seemed really friendly when I first got here but then less so over the last few weeks. If you’re regretting letting me move in, I’d rather know so I’ll have time to find something better than that scary motel I was staying in before.”
Ariana smiles, a genuine smile this time. “You don’t hold back. I respect that. Sorry if I’ve been a little bitchy.”
“You haven’t. Not really. But I feel bad that you’re not charging me market value for the room. You’re not even getting a profit for your trouble.”
“The money doesn’t matter. I wanted a roommate so I wouldn’t have to come home to an empty apartment all the time.”
That’s when it hits me.
“You miss her.”
Ari doesn’t look at me as she continues changing the channel on the television. “Yeah. But she’s happy so that’s what matters.”
Now I really feel insensitive. Of course she’s not warming up to me, she went from having her best friend around all the time to living with some random girl from nowheresville.
“You’re a good friend.”
Ari scoffs. “Not really. I’m just trying not to be that jealous bitch who begrudges her friend’s happiness. Anyway, what’s your deal? All I’ve seen you do since you moved in is work and sleep. Haven’t seen you with any guys or anything.”
The question shouldn’t surprise me considering how blunt Ariana usually is, but for some reason it takes me completely off guard. Probably because of the conversation I had with Anya today. It has me thinking about things I shouldn’t be, things that are much better left in the past.
“Are you blushing? Woo, does that mean you’ve been sneaking a guy in here while I’ve been busy feeling sorry for myself?”
“There’s been no sneaking,” I splutter, then put my hands on my cheeks, feeling the heat there. “I told you I don’t have a boyfriend.”
“Mmm, hmm. But there’s one you want.”
“One I can’t have,” I mutter under my breath.
Ari sighs. “I can relate.”
While I sit, stunned at the thought that a girl who looks like a supermodel can relate, Ari puts the remote down. “I’m going to order pizza.” She picks up Oreo, who looks annoyed to have her evening lick fest interrupted, and walks into the kitchen.
Now that we’ve broken the ice, we chat easily while we wait for the pizza. Ariana seems to be in a much better mood and flirts with the teenage pizza delivery boy, sending him away with a wink and a hefty cash tip. I can only shake my head at his perplexed but awed look. Ariana in flirt mode is probably more than most grown men would be able to handle.
After a few slices of pizza, I pull up my homework on my phone and do the reading for my class while giving Oreo the belly scratches she demands. Eventually Ari goes to her room and closes the door.
I blink at my phone when I see the time, then stand and stretch. I’ve been reading for more than an hour still wearing my work clothes. It’s definitely time to change into something comfortable before I attempt to tackle the rest of the client notes Mya gave me this afternoon.
In my room, I drop my oversized bag on the bed and unbutton my blouse. Since I’ve been here, I covered the bed with a purple comforter and stacked the bed with pillows. The furniture Mya left behind is good quality so I haven’t felt the need to do much other than put up some pictures.
My thoughts drift back to my earlier conversation with Ariana. This is a nice room, very homey. But it’s not home. Ari doesn’t talk much about her family so I’m not sure where they are or if this apartment is the only home she has.
At that thought, I pull my phone from my bag and hit the first speed dial. I tuck my phone into the curve of my shoulder so I can rummage through the dresser for some pajama pants.
My mother works the night shift at the Gracewell retirement home because the later shift brings in more money. Since I don’t feel comfortable makin
g personal calls during work hours, I’ve gotten into the routine of calling her at night before bed. By then most of the seniors have everything they need for the night and my mom is able to take a break and chat.
“Hi, sweetie. How are you?” She sounds upbeat but I can hear the exhaustion in my mother’s voice.
“I’m great, Mom. In fact, I got a small promotion at work. I’ll actually be working with the marketing team now instead of just sitting behind the front desk.”
“I knew it! Didn’t I tell you? Anybody can see what a hard worker you are and how smart you are. I’ll just bet they promote you again once you finish your degree. I’m so proud of you.” Mom sighs, the sound filled with contentment.
My mother never criticizes me or makes me feel guilty but I know her life would have been completely different if she hadn’t gotten pregnant and had to drop out of college. She works so hard all the time but never complains. The only time I’ve ever heard her cry is when I called to tell her I was dropping out of school. It feels good to give my mom a reason to smile again.
“I hope so. Maybe one day I’ll be on the marketing team and finally be able to help you out with the bills some.”
“Cassandra Anne, I am just fine. I told you I make more working the late shift at this place. They gave me a nice increase to steal me away from the hospital. They have a hard time finding nurses with the patience to deal with some of the older folks here. They can get a little ornery sometimes. I just want you to concentrate on your studies. I don’t need anything.”
“I know but you shouldn’t have to work so hard all the time. You deserve a break. Or at least to go back to the normal shift again.”
“But I don’t want to change shifts, baby girl. I’ve gotten used to this schedule and well, I have friends here.”
I grin. My mom almost sounds embarrassed. “Mom, do you have a boyfriend at work? Is it one of the other night nurses?”