by T L Swan
“I had the best night ever.” I smile as I flop onto the lounge.
He looks back over his shoulder and smiles. “Did you meet someone you like better than yourself then?”
I smile broadly.
Vanessa walks back into the lounge room, she is wearing a black nighty with a huge gold glitter Hello Kitty on the front. I smile when I see her attire.
She smirks when she sees my old man checked pajamas. “Fuck. We need a makeover, don’t we?”
I nod as I make my way to the kitchen. “Coffee?” I call.
“Speak for yourself,” Hank snorts.
“Yes, please,” they both call.
“I wear these boxers for a reason.” “And what is that?” Vanessa asks.
“Tiger pants is code for me being a tiger in the bedroom.”
I giggle and pop my head around the corner to see her face. Vanessa looks at me in horror. “When are you a frigging tiger in the bedroom?”
He shrugs. “I will be… when I meet the right girl.”
My mouth drops open.
“Don’t tell me.” Vanessa frowns.
“Shut up.” Hank turns back to watching his cartoon shows.
I walk back into the lounge room. “Are you a virgin, Hank?”
“I’m not listening to you,” he replies.
I bite my lip to hold back my smile and Vanessa covers her mouth with her hands.
“What?” she mouths at me in horror.
I shrug. “I don’t know?” I mouth back.
She sits down on the lounger next to where he lays on the floor. “We need to rectify this situation,” she replies.
He shrugs. “Tell me something I don’t know. I have been trying to rectify it since I was fourteen.”
I laugh out loud. “Oh my God, Hank. What are you doing? You are wasting away.”
“I am not discussing my sexual status with you two busy bodies,” he snaps.
Vanessa puts her hands on her cheeks in horror and widens her eyes at me.
“How has this happened?” I ask. “I don’t know any virgins.”
He shrugs. “When I was at school, I wasn’t really into girls. Then it got to now and I’m too late to the party. Who wants to date a biochem virgin?”
“Holy shit! We are so getting you laid, Hank,” Vanessa cries. “This is abysmal.”
I laugh and high five Vanessa as I walk back into the kitchen. “Can I take you two out for lunch today?” I ask.
“What for?” They both call.
“For letting me stay with you, and I want you to meet my friend Brielle.”
“I have no money,” Hank replies flatly.
“I’m paying,” I call out.
“I’m in.”
“Me, too,” They both chime with renewed excitement.
I smile as I make the coffee. “And that will be good, Vanessa, because we can start our planning.”
“Planning what?” Hank calls.
“Operation Hump Hank,” I call as I pour the milk into the cups.
“Oh, fuck off,” he groans.
“Yessss.” Vanessa giggles. “From now on you are our project. You wear what we say. You do what we say. Basically, you are our bitch.”
“Oh God. What’s fucking new?” he groans and I laugh.
“We will have girls lining up for you,” Vanessa teases as she pushes his hair to the side of his forehead to try and work out a new hairstyle.
He swats her away and I hand him his coffee. “Don’t touch my hair,” he mumbles.
She smiles as she takes her coffee from me. “Extreme Hank makeover, coming right up.”
* * *
The thing I hate about being the new girl is basically everything about being the new girl. What do I do? Where do I go? Who do I talk to? Am I even allowed to talk? I stand nervously at reception in Chesters Auction House on my first day of work as the receptionist buzzes someone from the offices.
“Emerson Mathews is here.” She fakes a smile and I see her eyes scan me up and down. I don’t like this already. My eyes nervously cast down to take a look at myself in the mirrors on the lift doors. I bought this suit from home. I’m in a navy knee high skirt and blazer with an ice pink cotton shirt underneath. I even wore stockings. It’s a special day. I hope they wear this sort of stuff here.
“Send her up,” the bored voice replies through the monitor.
“Just go to level three.” She gestures to the lift. “And when you get there ask for Maureen.”
“Thanks.” I make my way up to level three.
The lift doors open and a girl around my age stands in front of me. “Emerson?” she asks.
“Yes.” Thankfully, I didn’t have to find my way to her.
She smiles warmly. “I’m Maureen.”
“Hello,” I murmur. “I’m nervous,” I blurt out. Oh, damn, why did I say that?
She gestures up the corridor. “This way.” She smiles. “Don’t be nervous.”
I follow her up the hallway and I look around at everyone we pass. Okay, I totally wore the wrong thing. Everyone here is super cool and trendy, not business like. Shit, I feel my discomfort rise. I continue to follow her towards the large door at the end of the corridor which opens out into a large space. My eyes nervously glance around at the busy hive of action. The main room is large and seems to be partitioned off into four sections and four offices branch off of the main room. Three glass offices and one with brick walls. She turns to me. “This way.” I smile nervously and follow her as people start to look our way. Oh, the dreaded new girl interest.
As we walk past the closed office I notice the sign on the door: Mark White. We continue around the corner where I am shown my desk. It’s in among a group of four others.
“I’m Travis.” A young man stands and shakes my hand.
“H-hello,” I stammer nervously. Travis sits down opposite me and two other women are seated at the desks next to me. One woman is kinda mumsy and nice looking.
“Hello.” She smiles.
The other woman looks like she crawled out of a music video clip. I fake a smile to hide my dismay at my daggy attire. She’s wearing a short, black, tight skirt with fishnet stockings, and an off-the-shoulder leather top. Her hair is styled in a pink crew cut. Hmm. Arty farty to a whole other level, but she looks hot. “Hello.” I murmur.
“Hello, I’m Dulcie,” she replies as she looks me up and down. Her accent tells me she’s Irish. I feel my heart flutter at the sound of that accent. Dear, God, I’m obsessed with anyone Irish at the moment, especially since my street kissing incident. I need to get a grip of this new obsession.
“This is your desk.” She gestures and I fall awkwardly into the seat.
“Thank you.”
“Make yourself a coffee.” She points to the kitchen. “And then I will show you around and give you the tour.”
I smile nervously. “Okay, thanks.” She walks off and I swing my chair around and turn my computer on. I just want this first day over with.
Travis must sense my fear and smiles sympathetically. “Come on, let me make you a coffee and show you the kitchen.”
“Thank you, that would be great.” I stand and follow him down the hall to the kitchen and lunchroom.
“Cutlery. Microwave…” He starts to point at the things in the kitchen before he opens the fridge. “Fridge. The rule is that if you didn’t bring it don’t ever eat it. It may have been in here for years and you will definitely die from salmonella.”
“Got it.”
“Except milk. Someone always buys milk. Milk is safe.”
I nod.
“You get an hour for lunch, but if you really want a break you will have to leave this place because the dickheads in here just come and ask you shit while you’re eating.”
“Oh, okay.”
“And you end up talking work while you shovel. It sucks.”
Travis is already growing on me.
He opens the cutlery drawer. “This is where the cutlery is kept, but
I keep my own knife and fork in my desk draw, and I keep my coffee cup there, too.”
I frown.
He leans in to whisper. “Word is, someone on level two has a catchy STD and all other kinds of fungal face shit going on.”
My eyes widen. “Oh,” I whisper mortified.
He nods in agreement. “I know. Keep your shit close.”
“Sound advice.”
I will have to remember that. Imagine catching something from a coffee cup.
“Any tips?” I ask, hoping he will give me an insight into how to keep my job.
He frowns as he thinks. “Just don’t sleep with any of the artists. Instant dismissal.”
“Oh.”
“And that goes for co-workers, too. We aren’t allowed to date each other.”
My eyebrows rise by themselves.
He shakes his head. “The rule goes that if you want to start a relationship, one of you has to leave.”
I nod.
“But the head of marketing had a thing going with a girl downstairs for a while, so I don’t know if the rule applies to everyone or just us plebs.” He rolls his eyes in annoyance.
I frown. Head of marketing is Mark. Oh, great. Don’t tell me he’s screwing the receptionist from downstairs. I feel my territorial instincts kick in. I want to ask who the girl is but I know it will look suspicious. Damn it.
“What’s the management like?” I ask as I fake a smile.
“They’re all assholes. Stay away from the pricks if you can.” He winks.
* * *
Its 10.30am and I have been introduced to more people than I will ever remember. I have started filing files away, the new girl job, obviously. Everyone seems nice and the office is very swanky. I think I am going to like it here to be honest, although it is too early to tell. Maureen from the art department, who has been showing me around, comes over. “Emerson, there’s a meeting down on level two this morning. Can you go down and attend for our team, please?”
I frown at her. Holy shit, she can’t be serious? I have no idea what I’m doing. “W-what do I have to do?” I stammer.
She shakes her head dismissively. “Just go and listen. They are talking about stuff we don’t need to know, anyway. It’s the marketing plan for the next month. Mark is running it.”
Oh. He’s here. I haven’t seen him this morning.
“Okay.” I bounce out of my seat and grab my notepad and pencil. This is one mission I am looking forward to, knowing it will get me out of filing this crap away. I grab my phone, notepad, and pencil then head to the lift. My phone rings as I wait.
“Hello.”
“Yes, hello, dear. Is that Emerson?”
I frown, knowing this is a familiar voice but I can’t quite place it. “Yes, this is Emerson.”
“It’s Beverly.”
Who? I don’t know a Beverly.
“From Heirloom? I just thought you should know that there has been something bought in that relates to your ring.”
Oh shit. It’s the antique lady. “B-beverly,” I stammer, feeling bad that I didn’t recognize her. I instinctively hold out my hand and look at my beautiful ring.
“I thought I had better call you as I feel it should stay with the ring.”
I frown, what is she talking about? “I’m sorry? You’ve lost me. What is it exactly?”
“It’s a wooden box with the same stampings on as your ring.” “A wooden box?” I repeat. What the hell am I going to do with a wooden box?
“Yes, dear. It’s filled with letters. I only read three of them, but there is a reference to your ring.”
I bite my bottom lip to stifle my smile. That’s so cool. “How much is it?”
She hesitates. “Fifty pound.” Hell, this sweet old lady is a pawn shark. “Umm…” I hesitate. Honestly, what am I going to do with a box of old letters?
“Thirty pound.” She tries to barter down with me. Crap, I can’t refuse that.
“Okay, I will be in after work today to pick it up. What time do you close?”
“I will be here until seven.” “Great. See you about five thirty.”
“Bye, dear.”
I smile as I hang up. That sweet old lady has a sharp mind and is totally ripping me off. I hope I’m like that at ninety something. I head down to my marketing meeting, looking forward to seeing Mark in action. The lift opens and I am on a large floor. I can’t see any people anywhere. Where do I go? My eyes search the space and I walk toward the back of the room, past all of the desks. Where the hell is this meeting? I really do wish some bastard had given me the tour of all of the levels this morning. Where are they?
A lady comes out of a door carrying a plate of pastries and cakes, and a man is behind her pushing a coffee and tea making trolley. “Oh, hello. Do you know where the marketing meeting is this morning?”
She points. “Yes, it’s through the double doors, down the hall.”
“Thank you.” I smile as my eyes drift to where she is pointing, and I head in that direction. I glance down at my outfit. Jeez, I need to ace it up. First impressions are damn important. My stomach drops as I get to the double doors and I slowly open them.
Around thirty people are sitting listening to Mark talk and write on a whiteboard at the front of the room.
He stops, smiles, and the group collectively turn to see who has arrived late.
“Um, hello. I’m sorry I’m late,” I murmur.
Mark smiles warmly and gestures for me to take a seat up the front. “Hello, I’m Mark.”
I nod. I know who you are. “Hello, I’m Emerson. I’m new.”
“Welcome aboard, Emerson.” His eyes hold mine a little longer than they should as if to silently acknowledge me.
I smile as I drop into the seat with sixty-four eyes glued to my every move. This is embarrassing. Next time that stupid witch upstairs asks me go to a meeting I’m just going to say fuck you, the answer is no.
I take out my pen and pad and stare up at the whiteboard to try and pretend I know what the hell they are talking about.
Mark starts to speak and I unashamedly stare at him. It’s a perfect scenario really. He’s teaching and I’m being attentive. I get to check him out without being obvious.
He starts to waffle on about some figure in from Germany while I continue with my internal assessment. He’s good looking, sandy blonde hair, blue eyes. He’s wearing an expensive grey suite and light green striped shirt with shiny black trendy shoes. Not as tall as I envisaged but not short, either, Hmm. Yeah, he’s nice enough. He’s very English, if there such a thing. I sit still and watch him command the room. He’s used to getting his own way and is very confident in whatever he’s teaching, but it’s all going way over my head, of course. The longer I sit and listen to him, the more dejected I begin to feel. It’s no use. I just don’t find him attractive… and I bloody should because he’s gorgeous. He looks like a player, but he can’t be. Nobody tunes someone for twelve months, that’s just going too far. What the hell is wrong with me?
My mind drifts to my dreamy street kisser. I wonder what he’s doing now and who he’s with. I wonder what he does for work. My eyes flick back to
the boring presentation being run that I couldn’t care less about. My mind wanders again. I wonder where Star lives? I think is accent was Northern Irish, but I couldn’t be sure. I smile at the floor as remember his deep, sexy voice. God, he’s hot.
“How does that sound, Emerson?”
Huh? My eyes shoot up to Mark as he and the whole room wait for my answer. What the hell did he say? “Umm.”
Shit, shit, shit.
“I think it will be amazing for you to follow that path in this company, don’t you?”
I fake a smile. “Yes, it sounds great.”
“Great,” he answers as he goes back to his spiel. “Now that we have Emerson doing those good news stories for us, it will be fantastic to be able to go back and look through our past successes all in print.”
I frown. Oh my God
… what the hell is he talking about? What did I just agree to do? I’m terrible at writing factual stuff. I only like to write about pretend stuff. This is a nightmare.
The meeting finally ends and I stand slowly. I want to be the last to leave so I can talk to him and tell him I can’t do that job he wants me to do, whatever the hell it actually is.
“Emerson, can I see you in my office after this meeting, please? I want to run through the new program with you.”
“Sure,” I reply as I stand. He’s dismissing me. I head towards the door then upstairs, back to where our offices are. Another blonde is lingering around Mark’s desk and I know she wants to talk to him, too. My eyes flick to them and I notice he doesn’t dismiss her. I blow out a breath, and without looking back at their body language, I leave the room. I decide to take the stairs, because, well, frankly, I don’t want to get in the lift with anyone. I take the stairs slowly. I don’t want to talk to him, which is uncomfortable because I’m pretty sure he wants to talk to me.
“How did the meeting go?” Bernice asks.
“Fine,” I mutter as I throw my phone and pad into my top draw. My eyes spot Mark as he walks up the corridor and into his office like a man on a mission. I think that playing this game of not knowing each other is the only fun thing about the place.
Ten minutes later I stand like a child at the principal’s office outside Mark’s door. “Knock, knock.”
“Come in!” he calls.
I walk in nervously and he grins. “Close the door behind you.”
I nod and slowly do as he says. I turn and face him. I’m nervous.
“Its so good to finally have you in my office,” he purrs.
I smile shyly.
His eyes hold mine and he swivels his chair from side to side. “You are much more beautiful in real life.”
I smile stupidly like a schoolgirl and hold my breath as I fall into the seat at his desk.
“Can I see you tonight?” he asks.
Oh shit, that was fast.
“Umm.” Oh, I am having dinner with Brielle. “I’m sorry, I have plans tonight.”