“So CJ, how long have you lived in New York?” I ask, folding my arms on the table.
“Almost four years now. It’s so much different than things are in Kentucky, that’s for sure,” she answers.
“Do you get homesick?”
She shrugs. “I mean sometimes, but I video chat with my family and friends back home at least twice a week to keep up with them,” she says with a small smile.
How lucky is she?
I wish I could still call my friends back home. I haven’t even really spoken to my parents since I’ve been here. You never know how lonely life can be until you’re truly alone and isolated. It’s a hard thing to deal with.
“May I start you with something to drink?” a short Chinese woman asks as she tapped her pen against her notepad.
“Water is fine for me,” I say.
“Sierra Mist,” Shayla answers.
“Mountain Dew if you have it,” Carrie Jo says. The woman scribbles down our drink order and rushes off to the kitchen, shouting something in Chinese.
“So,” I start, leaning forward on my elbows. “Are you two in relationships or what?”
“I am, but I don’t know for how long,” Shayla mutters as she checks her phone. “Speak of the devil, he’s calling now. If the waitress gets back before I do, order a beef lo mein and two spring rolls for me. I’ll be right back.”
She excuses herself from the table and walks toward the bathroom just as the waitress returns with our drinks, placing them in front of us.
“Do you need a few more minutes to look over the menu or are you ready to order?” she asks, her tone flat and dry. I glance back toward the back of the restaurant and see Shayla pacing back and forth as she speaks on the phone, her face reflecting what I assume is fear and anxiety. What in the world could her boyfriend be saying to her to make her look that way?
“I think we can go ahead and order. Do you know what you want, CJ?” I ask her.
She nods and closes her menu. “I’ll take the Kung Pao chicken, please,” she says, handing the waitress the menu.
I scan the menu one more time. “Um…I’ll have the Sesame chicken and pork dumplings,” I finally say. The woman scribbles down the orders and then looks around.
“And your other friend?” she asks.
“Oh, she wants beef lo mein and two spring rolls,” I say, handing her my menu. The woman writes it down and leaves the table without another word. Geez, her customer service skills are utter trash.
I turn my attention back to Carrie Jo.
“What about you, CJ? Are you seeing anyone?”
“Me? Oh no. I’m way too shy to really talk to guys,” she admits, turning a bit red as she turns her gaze to her drink.
“You shouldn’t be! You’re so pretty; I’m sure you could get any guy you wanted.”
“I know, but city slickers are so different, you know? If I had to date someone, I’d want a country boy.”
I giggle as I take a sip of my water. “Where do you plan to find a country boy out of all these ‘city slickers’ then?”
“I don’t know, actually. Right now, I’m just living life and having fun,” she says with a smile.
Shayla returns back to the table in a huff, glancing toward the front of the restaurant warily. “Sorry about that,” she mumbles.
“Everything okay?” I ask.
“Yeah, yeah, everything is fine. My boyfriend has to meet me here to get the house key because he’s lost his for the third time in two months,” she says.
“Ugh, men. There are tree stumps in a Louisiana swamp with a higher IQ than most of them,” Carrie Jo says.
Shayla giggles and shakes her head. “I have no idea what most of your sayings mean, but they sound hilarious,” she says.
The waitress finally returns with our food, plops it down in front of us and leaves without a single word uttered. I hope she doesn’t expect a good tip with that behavior.
“So do you get homesick, Blake?” CJ asks me, biting into a piece of chicken.
I stab around my plate as I shrug. “A little, but I don’t really have much back at home but my family.”
Shayla feigns shock and holds her chest. “How is that even possible? Blake Spencer has taken over New York but yet doesn’t have anyone at home?”
“It’s complicated. You wouldn’t really understand,” I say with a sigh, stuffing my mouth with savory chicken.
“Try us,” Carrie Jo says.
I tried to focus on chewing to keep myself from choking on the food in my mouth. How in the hell does one explain the most fucked up thing a person can do to their friends without people thinking she’s a complete heartless bitch?
“Long story short, being a gossip queen is frowned upon in the south,” I say. That’s actually a lie, but whatever. “I wanted to make it to working with a magazine like Hot Topic, so I started a blog to showcase my writing and gossip skills. The people around me didn’t like it too much. Where I’m from, people like to keep things behind closed doors or sweep it under the rug. That’s kind of hard to do when my aspiring job requires me to dish out those ‘private’ things, you know? They just didn’t understand that.”
“Well, gossiping isn’t easy, that’s for sure,” Shayla says and CJ nods.
“At least it all worked out in the end though. You ended up where you wanted to be,” CJ says and smiles.
I force a smile and nod. Getting the job offer was the way out I’d been praying for. Sure, it’s a dream to work for the magazine, but it was my golden ticket out of the hell I’d put myself in. As long as I do what I’m supposed to do and be cautious, I think I should be good.
I hope so anyway.
Shayla suddenly sinks down in her chair and mutters under her breath, looking at something over my shoulder. I turn and see a lanky man with thick glasses dressed in a black business suit stalking toward us. His mouth is in a hard line and his brows are furrowed as if he’s pissed off. He stops at our table and looks at Shayla without a word, not even bothering to acknowledge CJ and me. Rude much?
Despite that, Shayla doesn’t say anything either, she simply takes her keys out and removes one of them from the keyring and hands it to him. He nearly rips her fingers off when he snatches it from her. “I want you home in an hour, so I’d advise you to eat fast,” he snarls at her and turns to walk away.
When the bell over the door chimes and notes his departure, Shayla releases a breath. “Sorry about that,” Shayla says softly, lowering her eyes to her plate.
“That’s your boyfriend?” I ask, the answer being obvious.
“Yeah,” she says, taking a forkful of lo mein into her mouth.
“Well, he doesn’t seem very nice,” CJ says, a frown pulling at her lips.
Shayla shrugs and bites into an egg roll. “He probably just had a bad day at work. He isn’t always like that,” she says. CJ and I exchange looks and focus our attention onto our plates. I’m usually not one to jump to conclusions, but with the way Shayla looked while she was on the phone with in and their brief interaction just now, I think it’s a lot more than him just having a “bad day.”
But hey, what do I know?
7:23 p.m.
At my front door
No sooner than I put my key in the lock, Taylor’s apartment door opens.
“Hey there, Carolina!” she says cheerfully.
“Hi,” I say.
“How was work? I'm sure you've seen the headlines about you and your boyfriend,” she says with a smirk.
“He's not my boyfriend,” I say with a sigh, mostly because I’m sad it’s true. “But yes, we saw them.”
“And the Madicunt girl?”
“She hates it of course,” I say, mentally scowling as visions of my interactions with the orangutan fill my mind. “Speaking of Silas, he says he plans to have the photo shoot on Friday at his place.”
“His place? What kind of shoot is this again?” she asks with a cocked brow.
I fight the urge to roll my eye
s. How could she automatically go there when she was bringing home a new guy every night? NOW she wants to be modest?
I force a small smile and release a breath. “He says the space is bigger and it has great natural lighting. I'll also be there helping him, so you won't be alone,” I say.
She nods and runs her hand over her sleek ponytail. “Do I need to bring anything with me?”
“Do you happen to have a makeup artist and stylist on hand to bring with you?”
“Of course! This is a fashion shoot, right?”
“Fashion and glamour.”
“I know just the person,” she exclaims, beaming with excitement. “I'll catch up with you later!”
She locks her door and moves over to the staircase, dialing a number and begins talking in an excited tone as she descends to the first floor. Seeing her excited about the photo shoot is actually refreshing. Although she’s giving me a reason to get an invitation to potentially end up in Silas’ bed (a girl can dream here), I genuinely hope that the pictures help her somehow. Nothing’s more exciting and empowering than a woman being able to get what she wants without the financial help of a man.
Nothing’s also more exciting than the thought of banging Silas, but that’s neither here nor there.
Don’t judge me.
7:25 p.m.
Living room
Geez, Blake, really? You haven’t even known the guy for two weeks and you’re already trying to bang him! What does that say about our character?
7:26 p.m.
Living room
Who gives a flying fuck? He could’ve wanted to bang as soon as he said hello to me in the lobby and I would’ve been so down. The man is incredibly sexy and it also helps that he’s kind.
And did I mention sexy?
7:47 p.m.
Kitchen
I dance over to the refrigerator and pull open my freezer door to grab a pint of butter pecan ice cream. Everything is going oddly perfect in life. Was my fiasco at home just a test to prepare me for the greatness I’m experiencing now? I have no idea, but I’m going to ride the wave until I crash.
Milo follows me, looking at me with his adorable puppy eyes as I pop the lid off the container and grab a spoon from the dish rack. He sure knows how to beg.
My phone rings from the living room, breaking the trance Milo has me in. I rush to answer it, thinking that it’s Sex Bomb on the other line.
“Hello?” I answer as I settle onto the couch, hoping to sound a little more seductive.
“Hi, honey. Are you sleeping?” the person says.
I sigh and flop down on the couch. “Hi, mom. No, I’m not sleeping.”
“Well, I wanted to call to make sure you were still alive. No one has heard from you since you left,” she says. I fiddle with the handle on the spoon for a bit as I hesitate to answer. Of course no one would have heard from me. I hardly had a relationship with them when I WAS there and after the big fiasco happened, I lost the only people I cared about.
I clear my throat. “Yeah, I’m sorry,” I finally say. “Adjusting has been hectic.”
“I bet. Your aunt called and said that she saw you and a guy on some celebrity website or something. Seems like you’re having quite the life up there.”
“It’s all a part of the job,” I say. The line is quiet for a few moments. It’s always weird talking with my mom. We haven’t been close in so long, mostly because she thinks I’ve failed her by not following in her and my dad’s footsteps. Being a nurse or a business owner wasn’t something I was interested in. They’d always tell me that I was wasting time writing and I’d spend the rest of my life struggling if I didn’t do something more productive. So I started to blog. It was mostly to get my own feelings and frustrations out, but then I started to write about the things and drama I saw around me. I never thought people would pay attention and that it would blow up the way it did.
“So work is going well then?” my mom finally says. “I heard that you were hanging with celebrities at parties and having your picture taken.”
“Yeah, it’s fine. My neighbor happens to be a model, so she invites me to parties from time to time to get stories,” I answer and the line goes quiet again.
“Yeah, your aunt called and told me and a lady at the hair shop said that her daughter saw you on a fashion blog. A few other people have stopped me around town and told me also.”
“Oh,” I say. If other people have seen the pictures, I wonder if Audrina, Casey, and Cameron have seen them? Wanting to fill the silence, I clear my throat. “How’s dad?”
My father hadn’t spoken to me since everything happened, probably blaming me for him losing his high-paying contracts for his construction business. With the way I’ve been shunned by my own family, you’d think I went and got knocked up by a man three times my age and ran away to get married. I always thought that even if I lost everyone else, I’d still have my family, but I barely have them.
“Your father is fine. Work has been a little on the slow side for him after…all of that stuff happened,” she says, emphasizing the last of her sentence. Way to go to make me feel guilty, mom. And she wonders why I haven’t bothered calling.
“I, um, I have a lot of work to get done before bed,” I say, scraping against the top of the ice cream with my spoon.
“Okay. I was just calling to check on you. I’ll talk to you later then. Bye, dear,” she says and hangs up.
“Yeah, love you, too,” I mutter, tossing my phone next to me on the couch. I’m not sure why I expected something different. They weren’t very affectionate even before everything happened. It just would’ve been nice to hear it right now.
Milo hops up onto the couch and curls up on my lap, looking up at me. Tears burn my eyes as I scratch behind his ears.
“At least you don’t hate me,” I murmur. He licks my hand for a few moments and rests his head on my lap as I sigh. I shouldn’t dwell too much about what’s happening at home. I have a good job here, a guy I really like that I think is interested in me, and the coolest co-workers I could ask for. I came here for a new start and to live my dream. Maybe I should just let go and move on.
I just wish it were as easy to actually do than to think it.
9:55 p.m.
Living room
Blake Unfiltered blog post #790
Just when I thought things were going so perfectly, my mom calls. Since being here, I’ve been trying my hardest to forget about home and everything that’s happened there. It’s worked so far, but then my mom calls today and the guilt comes back just when I think I have it under control. It hurts that things are the way they are with them. I now feel like an outsider even with my own family. I know I fucked up big time, but I always thought that parents would love their children no matter what. Dad hasn’t said a single word to me since it happened and mom doesn’t have much to say other than asking me how I am and how work is. It’s times like this that makes me want to curl up and disappear, just as I tried to do back then. But I also remember that I’m not in North Carolina. No one knows about my past mistakes, so I should just put it behind me and just try to lead a somewhat normal and successful life. As long as I can stay out of trouble, I think I’ll be okay.
I’ll keep my fingers crossed on that one though.
xoxo,
B
Chapter Nine
Tuesday, January 20th
9:11 a.m.
My desk
I read over my interview questions for what feels like the millionth time, trying to settle my nerves. This is it. Today’s the big day for the interview and the first time I’ll really get to prove myself. As long as Madison doesn’t come over here and try to knock me off my game, I should be fine.
I’m sure that’s too much to ask for, but still. I’ll remain positive.
9:56 a.m.
My desk
“You nervous?” Shayla asks as she settles at her desk. Her makeup looks a bit off this morning, as if there’s more on one side than the other. My
mind immediately goes to her boyfriend and assumes they may have had a fight. She probably could just be terrible at blending, but you can never be too sure.
I force myself to smile. “Kind of, but more excited than nervous,” I say, studying her a bit longer. “Everything okay?”
Her forehead wrinkles in confusion as she turns on her computer. “Yeah, why wouldn’t it be? I was just running a little late, that’s all,” she says, and turns her attention to the computer.
Caesar walks by her desk, pauses, and then moves to stand next to her. He lifts her chin with his finger and studies the side of her face with all the makeup. Although he doesn’t say anything, everything he wants to say is portrayed in how his features harden with a mixture of concern and anger. Shayla finally pulls away from him and starts clicking away on her computer, leaving Caesar shaking his head and walking away.
That was weird.
10:30 a.m.
Hot Topic lobby
I wait at the check-in desk for Hannah and her publicist, chatting it up with Juliet.
“So rumor has it that Charlie from accounting is just making his way with all the women in this place,” she says as she files her pointy fingernails.
“I don’t think I’ve met him yet. He sounds like a pig though,” I say with a chuckle.
“Speak of the devil,” Juliet says dryly as a tall, blond-haired, blue-eyed man with a muscular build appears behind me and leans against the desk. “Don’t you have work to do, Charlie?”
“Juliet, my love. You look lovely this morning,” he says before turning his attention to me, taking my hand into his. “And I don’t think we’ve met. Is your name Ms. Gorgeous?”
Um, ew.
Does this really work on some of the women he messes around with?
I giggle nervously and remove my hand from his. “It’s Blake,” I simply say.
Musings of a Gossip Queen: A Chick-Lit Comedy Page 13