Flawless

by JD Hawkins

  I eat breakfast out on the small back patio under the shade of the awning, a simple spread of sliced fruit, eggs, toast, and coffee, reading the New York Times headlines and catching up on Instagram stories on my phone. All around me the squirrels chatter at one another, a few birds catching a breeze and floating like hang gliders through the open sky. I feel immensely at peace, maybe more so than I have in years. Who cares that thoughts of Liam, of last night, keep popping into my head? He was every bit the gentleman. I was appreciative of his generosity, and we were the picture of professionalism. That’s all it was. Exactly what I wanted.

  Or at least that’s what I keep telling myself.

  I meet up with Savannah, Veronica, and Kiley at the climbing gym in the afternoon, ready to go with my ponytail, yoga pants, and a Houston Rockets T-shirt. I’m sporting the neon pink climbing shoes I finally broke down and purchased last year when I decided I really wanted to commit. Lacing them up always puts me in a good mood. They match Veronica’s hair almost exactly.

  Savannah jumps down from the bouldering wall when she sees me come in—she usually arrives about an hour before the rest of us to get a more intense workout. I wave at Veronica and Kiley, sipping smoothies and chatting it up with some of the tightly muscled climbing instructors. If only I could find guys to date who were half as good as the girlfriends I’ve found in my life. It’s a bit of a curse, though. The confident woman. We tend to intimidate.

  “Hey lady, lookin’ so good in those bright pink shoes,” Veronica says, giving me a hug.

  “Since when do you and Kiley have matching T-shirts? What are those, jackalopes?” I ask, grinning. “There’s gotta be a story behind that!”

  “Well, we may have gone to the new brewery that opened last night,” Veronica

  replies, “and we may have been challenged to a drinking contest by a couple of college bros…and we may have whooped their asses so badly that the owner of the brewery gave us these free T-shirts! And yes, we may still be hungover, but we’re hungover winners.”

  “What did you do last night?” Kiley gives me a look and I immediately blush.

  “Nothing too exciting. Dinner with Savannah after a day at Lake Travis.”

  “Uh-huh,” she says with a grin. “I think we’re going to have to hear more about that.”

  Savannah is kind enough to wait for me as I make my way up one of the intermediate rock courses, stretching my leg over so just the tip of my toe catches the yellow rubber toehold to propel myself upward. When I first started climbing, I could barely make it up any of the easiest walls, and part of me wanted to quit, but now I’m doing the more challenging intermediate courses and I can’t believe how good the adrenaline pumping makes me feel.

  I’ve always been athletic enough—I played varsity soccer and ran cross-country in high school—but with Savannah’s help, I’m getting stronger, hitting the gym with her when she’s on hiatus from work, lifting and doing push-ups and squats and hip extensions.

  We climb for about an hour, mostly me and Savannah—Veronica and Kiley seem to be telling the truth about being hungover and stick to the beginner walls. Finally Kiley comes over, her bundle of curly hair damp with sweat, her black eyeliner starting to run, and when Savannah collapses onto the blue gym mat in exhaustion, Kiley says, “Hair of the dog, anyone? Frankie’s has Bloody Marys all day on Sundays and I have a headache that feels like someone’s going at my skull with a power drill.”

  “Yeah, let’s do it,” Savannah says.

  “Y’all are crazy,” Veronica pants, swiping her pink bangs out of her eyes, “but I’m in.”

  I dust the chalk off my hands and wipe the sweat off my forehead with a towel.

  The great thing about Frankie’s is that you can go there at any hour, in any outfit, and in any state of composure or disarray, and nobody is going to look at you twice. An ideal dive bar with a decent comfort food menu, the kind of place that’s just laid back locals, old school regulars, and whoever else happens to wander in. The drinks are strong and cheap and the food is the perfect, greasy fix after a night on the town. And as if it couldn’t get any better, it’s also mellow enough that you don’t have to yell over the music. We’ve been coming here for years.

  The bartender doesn’t blink when the four of us wander in still wearing our sweaty climbing gear, and I order a mimosa. Veronica orders a ginger ale—plain, with a side of saltine crackers—and the others get their Bloody Marys. Then we gather around our favorite corner booth and Veronica immediately turns to me, her green eyes like some sort of magical force that can see right through me. “Something’s different with you, Zoe. What’s going on?”

  I give her an innocent look. “What do you mean? Nothing’s different.”

  “You seem…happier,” Kiley says. “Are you loving the new job?”

  “It’s going okay.” I shrug, nonchalant. “And you know how it is with break-ups. Time is the best way to heal. I think about Jonathan less and less as each day goes by.”

  “Oh, come on, Zoe, tell them about yesterday!” Savannah says.

  “What happened yesterday?” Veronica asks.

  “Nothing. Savannah and I went to Lake Travis to sun and swim and then we went out to dinner and then I went home. Just a peaceful, relaxing day. Guess I could use more of those.”

  “That is not what happened!” Savannah shrieks.

  “Savannah—” I warn.

  She leans forward with a wicked grin. “Okay, so you know how Zoe hooked up with that mystery man at the hotel a few weeks ago, and now he’s her asshole boss? Well, we just so happened to bump into him at the lake, and I’m here to set some of the details straight. First off, the word ‘hot’ does not do Liam justice. He’s like if Liam Hemsworth and Chris Hemsworth somehow combined their DNA and had a test tube baby with George Clooney and that child grew up to be a man who had all of their best qualities.”

  “He’s not that attractive,” I protest.

  “And he wasn’t an asshole at all!” Savannah goes on. “He invited us onto his boat with his friends, who were all great people, and then we ate the most amazing meal at Le Petit Poisson—”

  “Are you for real?” Kiley interjects. “That place is supposed to be the most amazing French restaurant in Austin! But it’s impossible to get a reservation. I’ve been trying for months! How was the food? I heard it’s a revelation.”

  “It was pretty amazing,” I admit. “And I met the chef afterward, and she was a doll.”

  Kiley shoots me an envious glare, which is even more intimidating with the raccoon eyes she’s rocking after her workout.

  “Okay and what else?” Veronica asks, swiping a stray pink lock from her eyes.

  “What else is that the whole time we were there his eyes were glued on Zoe,” Savannah brags. “He totally has the most gigantic crush of all time on her. He was swooning.”

  “He was not!” I scoff. “He was just showing off how rich and well-connected he is, Savannah. And making sure I owe him one back at the office. He’s manipulative like that. In fact, I bet the next time he’s a jerk to me, he’ll expect me to let it slide.”

  “Thou doth protest too much, dear Zoe. I can see exactly what’s going on,” Kiley says, sipping at her Bloody Mary, eyes twinkling. “Your boss is totally into you, and you’re obviously into him. That’s what’s different.”

  “No! That’s not what’s going on at all. I am not into Liam. Yes, the sex was good, but first of all, I could never fall for a guy who’s that much of rich, arrogant douchebag, and second, it doesn’t matter anyway because there’s a company policy against dating a colleague. I need this job to pay my bills, a hell of a lot more than I need to date my jerk-face boss.”

  “You seem pretty defensive,” Veronica says gently, trying to suppress a grin that’s lighting up her face like a Christmas tree.

  “Fine. Liam is sexy as hell, I can admit that. But he's also a total player,” I insist. “He’s the kind of guy you randomly fuck in a hotel conference room
and never plan to see again, and I know that for a fact. It’s all a game to men like him, and when they’re done, they want to wipe the slate clean and find someone else to chase. In Liam’s case, that would mean coming up with some bullshit reason for firing me, and I definitely can't afford to let that happen.”

  Savannah sighs. “Look, Zoe, I know it’s not practical or something you can pursue given the circumstances, but I saw the way you looked at him. Are you sure there’s not some part of you that would totally go for it if he wasn’t your boss?”

  “Yeah,” Veronica chimes in, setting her ginger ale down. “I mean, this job is temporary.”

  I drink half my mimosa all in one go, then cross my arms. “Listen. You’re my best friends. I wouldn’t lie to you. And the truth is, no, I do not have even a teensy crush on Liam. After all those years with Jonathan, I need to take some time to myself, and when I am ready to start dating, I just want a nice guy. Liam is not a nice guy—he’s the exact opposite of who and what I want. End of story.”

  I can tell by the faces around the table that I’ve just burst Veronica’s optimistic little love bubble, that Savannah still doesn’t believe a word that just came out of my mouth, and that Kiley is back to feeling sorry for me. It’s almost more than I can stand.

  “Anybody up for some darts?” I ask, trying to change the subject.

  “Sure!” Veronica says, happy to move onto something more fun.

  But as we head away from the table, I look over my shoulder and catch Savannah whispering something to Kiley, and I can’t help wondering if she’s not planning something.

  I sit down at my kitchen table, now showered and full from eating a huge bowl of pasta carbonara, glancing over my notes for work tomorrow. Garfield purrs and weaves in a figure eight through my legs, rubbing up against my ankles. I pick him up, grateful for my warm furball of love. Sunday nights are when I film my new episodes of Makeup for the People, and they used to be my favorite night of the week—but lately they’re feeling like the worst, now that I have the anticipation of a long work week to deal with. It’s like a flock of butterflies is fluttering around in my stomach. I haven’t been this stressed or anxious in a long time.

  In addition to the whole Liam-as-boss thing, which is complicated enough, I have my first meeting with the marketing team tomorrow about launching our initial direct-to-consumer campaign for our yet-to-be-named makeup app.

  Usually I feel confident about these sorts of things given how many years of experience I have in marketing. But with the vagueness of the app’s concept and the lack of clarity about how it ties into LoveLife’s health and wellness brand as a whole, I’m finding it more difficult than usual to pin down a target demographic and to figure out how we want to “sell” this service. It’s like trying to make decisions about the decorations on a cake when you still don’t really know what kind of party it’s for or what kind of cake it’s going to be.

  The doorbell startles me out of my thoughts and I rush to the door and welcome in my guest for tonight’s show, Joanna Wilder. After I get her settled on the couch, I tell her I need to dash to my room to change into a blouse that isn’t covered with cat hair.

  I have the camera set up on a tripod in the living room, ready to film. I still can’t believe I’m getting close to making my fiftieth video of Makeup for the People. It feels like just yesterday that Savannah was over here teaching me the basics of how to use the camera. I’m always excited for the show’s guests, but I’m especially eager for tonight’s interviewee.

  I bustle back into the room, still flustered, and Joanna stands to greet me properly, extending her hand for a warm shake. Her energy is somehow simultaneously fierce and motherly, her skin a glowing deep brown, hair braided in sleek rows, and she’s rocking a neatly tailored cream linen business suit and strappy gold heels.

  “I’m so sorry about the delay, I should have changed already,” I apologize.

  “No need for apologies. I’m early, and I know how it is when you have furry friends at home,” she smiles. “My Labrador is pretty much a polar bear. That’s why you’ll never see me wearing black.”

  We laugh and she glances around the room appreciatively. “You have a lovely apartment. Just look at all your gorgeous plants. And that kilim rug is to die for.”

  “Thank you so much. Can I get you anything to drink before we start? Or eat?”

  “Just water with ice if you have it, thanks.”

  “Of course. Please make yourself at home.”

  I scurry into the kitchen, fixing the ice water and giving myself a silent pep talk. Joanna Wilder is one of the most powerful CEOs in Austin, running a tech firm that she developed from the ground up, and one of only half a dozen female CEOs in the entire city. I’ve heard her speak at several conventions focused on female entrepreneurship and intersectional feminism, and she’s been nothing short of inspiring. I’ve also always been impressed with her ethics, and her commitment to staffing her firm with a 1:1 female to male workforce with no wage disparity. She’s revolutionized what it means to promote equality in the workplace while simultaneously gaining the respect and admiration of her male counterparts at other businesses.

  When I return to the living room, Joanna already has all of her makeup supplies spread across the table.

  “Thank you,” she says, taking the water. “So I’ve watched your show, and the format seems to be an introduction where you’ll tell the audience a bit about why I’m here, and then I’ll explain and demonstrate how I do my makeup and the reasoning behind my choices?”

  “That is an extremely succinct and accurate version of what’s going to happen. Yes, to everything you said. The camera will stay over there and I’ll control it with this tiny remote.”

  She smiles. “Good, good. This is exciting. I’m ready when you are.”

  “Perfect. And this isn’t a live stream, so if you misspeak or want to say something differently, just pause a few moments and start over again, and I’ll take care of everything in the editing process.”

  Joanna takes a sip of the water and nods. “That sounds wonderful. I’m pleased to be working with you, Zoe. We need more ambitious women climbing the ranks in business.”

  “Agreed, and thank you. I’m going to turn on the camera now.”

  Joanna nods. I press the red button on the remote and arrange myself beside her on the couch. Then I launch into my introduction.

  Hi, I’m Zoe Skye, and welcome to Makeup for the People! For our episode today, we’re going to discuss best practices in doing makeup for business meetings.

  In the corporate world, makeup can be extremely empowering if used with nuance and subtlety, and I’m thrilled to have Joanna Wilder on the show today. Joanna is the CEO of Austin’s very own Wilder Technologies and Consulting, a firm with a net worth of over two billion dollars. Dr. Wilder will be demonstrating her go-to looks and techniques that have helped boost her confidence and enhance her take-no-prisoners attitude during her rise to the top!

  I’m always a little nervous at first, but I’ve done this so many times that soon my brain switches to autopilot and my genuine excitement makes everything feel easier, as if we’re just two friends chatting in my living room.

  As Joanna leans toward me and starts talking, I can already tell this is going to be another great episode.

  At least something in my life is going right.

  9

  Zoe

  LoveLife is buzzing the next morning, though I’ll admit that sometimes it’s difficult to tell who’s actively working and who’s just hanging out. I overhear bits of discussions about a new herbal supplement that will improve digestive health at half the cost of probiotics; plans to host one of the world’s most respected experts on mindfulness meditation at the next LoveLife company meeting; and a debate about integrating video game elements with at-home fitness programs to make them more fun, more effective, and increase the likelihood that people will complete the program from start to finish.

  Th
e thing that’s most consistent, though, is the enthusiasm coming from everybody. That’s why startup culture is so enticing to me: the youthful vibrancy, the optimism, and the feeling that one company really can change the world.

  I take several deep breaths, in and out, preparing myself to kick ass at this marketing meeting. I am a leader. I have tons of experience in marketing for the beauty industry. For a second, I wonder if Liam will be there, and the thought of him watching me with total control and power over the room makes my heart pound.

  Ever since Savannah called me out at the bar, I've been telling myself over and over again that I’m not interested in Liam. He may seem like a gentleman, but it’s a facade, and I respect myself too much to get played again. On top of that, he is my boss, and we already made a pact to keep things professional. Not only did he have no problem agreeing to it, he practically leapt at the chance to forget the whole thing ever happened. I’m sure our fling was nothing more than another notch on his bedpost. Staying away from each other is in everyone’s best interest.

  I pop into my office on the way to the meeting to grab my notes, and that’s when I notice the understated bouquet of Texas wildflowers in a small vase placed carefully on the desk. At first I think it must be some kind of sneaky gift from my BFFs, but then I notice the white card underneath it which reads, “You got this, Zoe. – LB.”

  My cheeks flush. I can’t believe Liam remembered the meeting was today, and actually sent me flowers and a note of encouragement. I remind myself again of what a jerk he is underneath the charm, and it takes all my strength to refocus my mental energy on the meeting.

  Notes tucked under my arm, I march down the hallway and step into the conference room. Everyone is in their seats, already helping themselves to the tea and snacks on the table, their clothes looking extremely casual compared to my suit. The marketing team they’ve assigned to this project is small, just myself and a half a dozen other people, though maybe we’ll pick up a few more folks once we actually know what the hell we’re doing.