Better Than Okay (23 page)

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Authors: Jacinta Howard

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She did know. His restraint was damned commendable.

“Why didn’t you say anything earlier?” she asked.

“If I would’ve you think we’d be here, in this moment, now?”

She thought about it for a second. No. They probably wouldn’t be.

“Things happen in their own time. I’m actually kinda glad I
waited. My head wasn’t totally in the right place back then anyway. I probably
would’ve messed it up and we wouldn’t be here now.”

He paused. “And we both know how tragic that would be, seeing that
I’m the shit and all.”

She giggled and slapped behind her, hitting his thigh, feeling his
deep chuckle vibrate against her back. She sighed, biting her lip.

“Brian, you make me feel so…” she paused, trying to think of the
right word. “Good.”

He chuckled again. “You really need to work on your adjectives.
How about spectacular, awesome, remarkable, extraordinary…”

She laughed and rolled her eyes. “How about shut up.”

He nipped her neck again and she yelped, scooting away from him.
He laughed and pulled her back into his embrace. She laid there for a few
minutes listening to his calm breathing mingling with the mellow sounds of the
music, feeling the rise and fall of his chest, the steady beat of his heart
against her. It was relaxing. Comforting. She felt her eyelids getting heavy.

“Brian?”

“Yeah?” His voice was low and throaty, laced with sleepiness.

“Why’d you get ‘grace’ tattooed on your arm?” she asked, her voice
barely above a whisper.

He was quiet for a long time and she shifted against him.

“I got it the last time my mom disappeared. It reminds me of how
God always shows His grace to me…” he finally answered, his voice low. “Even
when it feels like He’s not.”

She released a breath. After a few seconds, he pulled her even
closer and kissed the back of her neck. She closed her eyes, thinking about
what he said, totally content and safe in his arms.

 

Chapter 20

 

The vibe at work on Wednesday was off. Not in an immediately
noticeable kind of way, it was more like a feeling, a sense that something was
about to happen. Destiny readjusted her headphones in her ears and stared at
the blinking cursor on her computer screen, trying to swallow her sense of
dread. It was probably coming from their publisher, Scoop Hernandez’s return to
the office.

Whenever he was in the building the tension was always thick,
mostly because he insisted on degrading his entire staff, no matter what they
did. It didn’t help that he was also really weird and generally creepy. Destiny
hated the way he looked at her and even at Philly. Like he wanted to shake some
salt and pepper on them and eat them for dinner with some fava beans and
a nice
Chianti or something.

Lunch today?

Her chat screen lit up with Dorian’s name.

Can’t. My publisher is in town.
Have a staff meeting at 3:45 and I
gotta
get caught
up.

Sucks
for you.

No shit, Sherlock.

Dude, how old are you??? Nobody
says that anymore.

She could imagine him scowling.

Well, I do.

Of course you do, dork.
Talk to
Chipmunk?

 
She
wrinkled her face, wondering what was up.

Not since she got to Tallahassee.
Why?

Wondered.

She frowned again.

Why?

Just wondered.

Why?

BECAUSE I WONDERED.

She blinked, surprised at his cyber outburst.

Whoa, Sparky. Calm down. Why
don’t you just call her?

She seemed a little sad.

She nodded her head in agreement, as if he could see her.

Granddad isn’t doing so hot,
that’s probably why. And she broke up with Mark but he keeps bugging her.

Yeah. I know.

He’s an asshole of epic
proportions.

Yeah. I know.

Call her.

Yeah.

She looked up and saw Jason making his way to her desk.

Gotta
go.
Later alligator.

Bye, dork.

She watched him able toward her desk, his gait unhurried as
always.

“What’s up, Destiny?”
 

“Hey, Jason,” she replied, pushing back from her desk slightly.

He perched himself on the edge of her desk, looking down at her.
He picked up a concert DVD some unheard of singer had sent her for potential
review, frowning as he examined it.

“The vibe is a little off today, huh?” he asked, glancing around.

She nodded. “Definitely.”

“Just checking to see if it was just me. I guess it’s always a
little off whenever Scoop is here though.”

He shrugged and dropped the DVD back onto her desk and stood. She
nodded again in agreement. “I’m really not looking forward to this meeting,” he
breathed, rolling his eyes.

“Me either,” she quickly agreed. “I’m not in the mood today.”

He chuckled. “I feel you. Let me get back here and finish
retouching these images. I’ll see you in the meeting.”

“Cool.”

She watched him saunter away and turned back to her computer and
her blinking cursor. It’s like it was taunting her—
You can’t think of anything to write, Naaa-na-na-na-naaa
.
Blink
.
 
Blink.
You can’t type a single solitary sentence. Ha. Ha. Blink. Blink. Blink.

She smirked at the computer and abandoned the idea of writing the
editorial she was working on and started transcribing an interview she’d done
with a young rapper from Liberty City. That would teach her cursor to mock her.

A few hours later, she’d finished transcribing two interviews and
had finally gotten around to finishing the editorial she’d been trying to
write. It was three-forty and the staff was already starting to file into the
conference room. No way she was being late for this meeting. She grabbed her
notepad and pen and followed Jason into the office. Scoop didn’t like them
using laptops during his meetings because he was paranoid and convinced
everyone was secretly typing about him behind his back.

“Showtime,” Jason mumbled just loud enough for her to hear.

She slid into her seat and smiled at Gabe who was already in the
room, sitting to the right of the seat he normally occupied. He half-heartedly
smiled back and quickly looked away. Oh, shit.

She looked around the room. Lina didn’t work on Wednesdays, and
Destiny was kind of glad she wasn’t here. She had a feeling that whatever was
about to go down couldn’t be good. Everyone else’s expression was guarded,
except Chuck, who seemed generally unconcerned with anything that was going on
around him. No one was really talking and when someone did say something it was
hushed, like they were in a library and in fear of getting kicked out by the
librarian.

At exactly three forty-five Scoop entered the room in a rush. He
always walked like he was in hurry, as if he had somewhere direly important to
be. It was comical because he also pimped when he walked, and the combination
made him appear oddly off-balance whenever he was moving. He dressed in his
usual attire—slacks and a button-up shirt that was unbuttoned way too far
and showed off way more of his chest hair than Destiny ever hoped to see. He
looked like he was about to go film a seventies car chase.

He slowed as he approached his seat at the head of the table and
pulled his chair out dramatically doing that thing where you try to look at
everyone in the room at the same time with his eyes. Finally, he slid into his
seat. He still hadn’t uttered a word and Destiny shifted in her chair.

“As you all know,
UMusic
is
my baby,” he started without preamble. He paused theatrically and looked around
the room. “I started this magazine with a hundred and fifty dollars and a dream
ten years ago.”

Destiny stared at him, wondering how the hell his nose wasn’t
growing.

“So, it’s with great…trepidation, apprehension, hesitation, and
reluctance that I tell you this.”

Destiny stared at him, her heart starting to pound a little
harder. She couldn’t help but wonder if he realized that all of those words
meant the same thing. She doubted it. She glanced at Gabe, who looked like he
was about to throw up.

“The magazine has been struggling for quite some time. People just
aren’t buying print ads anymore, and to be frank, you all didn’t help the sales
team out much with the content you were putting out.”

She peeked at Gabe again. His expression had turned hard and he
looked like he wanted to stab Scoop with his pen.

“So, as of today, at the end of this meeting to be precise, we
will be closing the doors.”

You could’ve heard a pin drop as everyone looked around the room,
the expressions ranging from disbelief to sadness to rage. The rage belonged to
Philly.

“Closing the doors, meaning?”

Of course, it was Chuck who spoke.

“Meaning we will no longer be in operation.
UMusic
has printed its last issue as of June. Of course, I will be
using this building for one of my other businesses that is actually making
money, so the doors will be open in theory. You just won’t be here anymore.”

He paused again, she guessed for dramatic effect, though at this
point she was having a hard time registering anything he was saying. She didn’t
have a job. As if her life could stand to be any shittier, now on top of
everything else she was dealing with, she was out of a job. She glanced at
Jason who was shaking his head, a disgusted grimace on his face.

“I’m not interested in going viral or to the web, or whatever, as
Gabe suggested,” Scoop was saying. “I’m getting out of the publishing business
period. It’s not fun for me anymore and I’m on to bigger and better and more
productively grander and grandiose things. So, that’s it.” He had the audacity
to grin. “Of course, as I said, this will give me more time to focus on my
other business endeavors and I sincerely hope that all of you find something
worthwhile to do with your time.”

He stood and looked at Gabe.

“Gabe will fill you in on any other important details you may need
to know. Take care everyone.”

And just like that he pimped his creepy ass out of the door
without a second glance. Shit. She sat there, like a zombie for a few long
seconds.

“Scoop pretty much said it all,” Gabe said, frustrated. “I want
you all to know that I value each and every one of you and fully anticipate
that you will find something soon and become a part of another great team that
recognizes the worth of your services and creativity.”

She listened half-heartedly as he told them about the minimal
severance they would receive, which amounted to about a week of pay. He
strongly suggested that they immediately head to the unemployment office. When
he was done talking everyone just filed out of the office, like they were
leaving another meeting. She didn’t know if that was normal behavior or not.
She half-expected at least one person to flip out like Jerry McGuire.

“You okay?” Jason asked her, following her to her desk.

No. No she wasn’t freaking okay. She bit her tongue, just barely
keeping herself from blurting it out. Now what was she going to do? She had
bills and a student loan and a car that was on its last damn leg. No. She
definitely was not okay.

“Yeah,” she lied, forcing the numbness she’d gotten used to
activating to cover her.

She packed up the few personal items she had on her desk—a
plant some publicist had sent her for writing about his artist and a pink
candle Chrissy had given her the last time she was home.

“Let me go get my stuff, too.” He frowned.

She nodded listlessly and watched as he rounded the corner to the
art room.
A few seconds later her chat box blinked.


Make sure you copy your
files and important contacts before you leave.”

It was a warning from Jason and even through her anger she was
infinitely glad he’d sent it. If she was ever going to get another job, she
needed her clips and having contacts was a necessity.


Thanks.

She sat down and started copying everything on a flash drive and
forwarding contacts from her work email to her personal address. Nearly an hour
later, she slung her bag over her shoulder, her heart feeling heavier and
heavier as the reality of her jobless situation sunk in.

How the hell was she going to survive without a job? Her mom was
already paying for her therapy with Vanessa, she didn’t have any extra to give
her. And her dad barely acknowledged her existence outside of a birthday and
Christmas call each year. She shook her head, forcing the numbness to wash over
her again. Her chest was still too heavy though. She looked around, wondering
if she was supposed to say bye to everyone or just get the hell out of the
building and email them later like she really wanted to do. She chose the
latter.

She quickly walked toward the entrance and waved a hand at Sherry,
who was still behind her desk on the phone as if they all still worked there.

“Bye, sweetie,” she mouthed.

She slid past Gabe’s office but he saw her and called her in.

“Hey, Destiny,” he said when she stuck her head in the entranceway.
“I’m so sorry this happened. I only found out this morning.”

She nodded, shifting her weight to her other foot. Numbness. She
needed numbness.

“I just wanted to let you know you’re going to land on your feet.
You’re smart. You know music and you actually have perspective in your writing,
which will always be your biggest asset.”

He paused and glanced quickly around his office like he was afraid
he was going to leave something.

“Anyway, listen, I’ll be in touch. I’ve got some things lined up
already.”

“Thanks,” she managed, hoping her voice sounded normal. She
doubted it did.

“Okay, I’ll email you,” he said, looking at her.

She nodded again and managed a smile and quickly left his office.
She pushed open the door, feeling the humidity wrap around her like a shawl.
Today it didn’t feel good though. Today it was suffocating. She strode quickly
to her car, already sweating, and slid into the driver’s seat. She cranked the
car. Nothing. She turned the key again, this time pumping the gas as she
cranked it. Nothing. She turned it again. Nothing.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me!” she screamed at the top
of her lungs.

She laid her head on the steering wheel, her heart pounding,
sweat
dotting her forehead. She was having a hard time
breathing again. She thought of the technique Vanessa had given her when she
felt like she was about to start panicking and inhaled slowly, counting to ten
and then exhaled just as slowly, counting to ten again.

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