Chronicles of a Serial Dater - Book 2: A New Adult Romantic Comedy (2 page)

BOOK: Chronicles of a Serial Dater - Book 2: A New Adult Romantic Comedy
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“It’s good you’re getting out there, though. I’m proud of you.” Her expression pinched in a way that years of friendship could only decipher.

“What is it?” I asked with a monotone voice. “You aren’t saying something.”

She huffed and shook her head, tight curls bouncing around her face. “I can’t keep a damn thing from you, woman. Are you sure you want to know?”

“I do! I do, I do, I do,” Anette called out.

Lourdes took a moment before continuing. “Kevin moved out here.”

“He what?” I gasped, unable to stop my reaction.

“I haven’t seen him,” she said defensively. “Just heard it through a friend of a friend, but it’s true. He’s living out here.” She pressed her lips together, knowing she was delivering bad news.

“With her,” I said flatly, to which Lourdes nodded. “Figures.” I couldn’t stop the sinking sensation in my gut any more than I could hide my reaction. Both Anette and Lourdes made annoying sounds of pity. I blinked back tears of sadness and anger. “It’s fine. It’s so stupid,” I said, wiping my cheek dry with a knuckle.

“I wasn’t going to say anything, but I figured with you out on the dating scene…”

“It’s good. It’s all good,” I sniffed. “Just stings whenever I think about it. But thankfully I’ve had more than enough bad dates to keep my mind off him.”

Lourdes pressed her lips together in a slight grin. “What kind of bad dates?”

“You have no idea,” Anette groaned. “There was the guy with real mommy issues, then Mr. Chompy,” she started.

“Mr. Chompy?”

“He did this before every kiss,” I replied before thrusting myself toward the camera. I wiggled my eyebrows in an exaggerated act of seduction, made a kissy face, curled my lip, and clacked my teeth together. Enjoying Lourdes’ horrified face, I leaned back and crossed my arms. “He did that every time we made out.”

“What the hell?”

“Right?”

“And then the last guy I went out with was ten kinds of creepy and farted the whole time. It was so bad, I had the bartenders sneak me out the back exit so I could get away.”

Anette shook her head. “And that brings us to the Mr. Dick Pic.”

“Holy shit. You should write all this down before you forget,” Lourdes said, wiping a tear from her eye from laughing so hard.

I nearly told them about the blog but held back for some reason. It was great sharing the horror stories with them and all, but I’d created it to be my own safe little place to vent. This conversation was a perfect example of why I needed to start keeping things to myself a bit more. It was my life after all, not a joint decision-making team.

“I totally should,” I replied with a secret smile.

 

“Ahhhh, why?” I moaned to myself as I ran around the room in a panic. I grabbed random clothes, snatched my bag off the back of a chair, and stopped dead in my tracks. “I’m forgetting something.”

I wracked my barely awake but adrenaline-fueled brain for a few precious seconds. I had less than ten minutes to make it all the way downtown if I was going to be on time, which at this point would be nothing short of a miracle. But I was mostly dressed and nearly out the door, which was pretty good considering I’d been dead asleep five minutes before.

What is it? What is it?
I thought as I turned in a slow circle. I could almost hear the seconds ticking by as I tried to remember what was so important.
Nope. Not coming to me. I don’t have time!

“Shit, shit, shit,” I muttered under my breath as I ran out the front door. I slipped my arm through the sleeve of my top just as my feet touched the sidewalk. Two seconds outside and I was already cursing the office dress code. It was too damn hot for sleeves. As I jogged to the subway, I pulled my sweaty hair into a high ponytail.
At least I didn’t put on any makeup this morning. It would’ve melted off by now,
I thought.

Of course it was the one day where everything was working against me. The train was late, people were in my way, I didn’t have time to get coffee or breakfast. I overpaid for a piece of fruit from the stand on the corner just so I could have something in my stomach while Lisa chewed me out. On the ride up the elevator to our floor, I tried to compose myself with a few deep breaths, ignoring the sweat dripping down my back, sides, and forehead.

I’m the kind of person who feels late if I don’t show up early, so to be legitimately running off schedule wasn’t something that happened often. I wish I had a good excuse but the honest truth was, I’d simply slept through my alarm. All these late night, mid-week dates were taking a toll on my normally steady sleep patterns. I couldn’t exactly say that to her, so I had a few excuses lined up in case Lisa pinned me to the spot.

I dumped my stuff off and legged it down the hall to her office where Abi was already waiting. After spotting her shit-eating grin as I pushed the door open, I quickly looked away.

“Talia,” Lisa said in a firm voice.

“Nice of you to join us,” Abi added in a snotty tone.

“I’m so sorry. I know it’s completely unacceptable for me to…”

Lisa waved my excuses away with the flick of her hand. “No need. You’ve never been late before, but let’s not make this a habit, yes? Abi, continue.”

Abi looked at me like a fish out of water. She was obviously dejected I wasn’t about to be fired or suspended or any of the other dream scenarios she’d played out in her head. It took her a moment, and an arch from Lisa’s eyebrow, to stammer back into the conversation they’d been having.

It gave me a few moments for my heart to slow down, the sweat to stop, and for my morning to catch up with me. Even so, I knew I was going to be off for the rest of the day.

“That brings us to your project. Any issues hitting the deadline today?” Lisa asked, turning to me.

Today?
I thought with panic. “Nope, none whatsoever.”

“Good. Mr. English’s team has a huge and honestly,” she said, peering over the rim of her glasses, “overly complicated marketing campaign set up. If anything throws it off schedule, there will be hell to pay.”

With a growing lump in my throat, I nodded, appearing in full agreement. “Of course. Completely understandable.”
And that right there is what I forgot this morning.

“Great. Do you mind giving me the first couple chapters when you have a chance? I just want to have a look through them to satisfy my own curiosity.”

We concluded the meeting soon after. I avoided Abi as I briskly walked back to my office and shut the door, collapsing into my chair with a huge groan. “I forgot the fucking manuscript at home.”

I had no idea what I was going to do. I’d already shown up to work late, so I couldn’t exactly make an excuse and leave early. My antiquated editing system was coming to bite me in the ass. For whatever reason, it’s easier for me to edit with a physical copy of a manuscript. There’s something about the paper and ink, the tactile act of holding the paper that makes the errors leap off the page. If I’d just done it the way everyone else does, digitally, I wouldn’t have found myself in this situation.

Switching on my computer, I gave myself a mental pep talk. This was a last-minute cram session before a huge test. This was starting an essay two hours before it was due. I was going to have to dig deep into my editor toolkit and hopefully remember the marks I’d made on a piece of paper that sat on my desk thirty blocks uptown.

I slipped off my shoes, stretched out my fingers, pushed my damp hair away from my eyes and got to work, starting with sending Lisa the first few chapters I’d thankfully already marked on my computer.

 

“You’re working awfully hard,” Abi said as she leaned against the door eating an apple. Even the sight of her chubby face chewing made my empty stomach grumble. I didn’t have time to get food. I didn’t even have enough time to order delivery, let alone eat. “Thought you were basically finished.”

I ignored her smug smile and focused on my screen, rereading the same sentence twice. “Some of us care about quality.”

“Uh huh. If you need any help, I’m sure Lisa wouldn’t mind passing it over to someone more qualified.”

I blinked up, wanting nothing more than to throw a heavy paperweight at her already smooshed-up face. “Sounds great. If I do need any help, you’ll let me know if you think of anyone more qualified, won’t you?
Ok, great! Good talk. Bye, Abi.

Abi sputtered at my quick sneer and turned on her heel, leaving me to my empty office. I thought about getting up to shut the door but didn’t want to waste the precious seconds it’d take. I was coming down to the wire with this project and refused to lose face in front of her.

 

For all her harsh leadership, Lisa works harder than the rest of us combined. She’s not the sort of person who won’t ask you to do something she wouldn’t do herself. So when I was still in the office past 7 p.m., she seemed genuinely impressed, in her own way.

“Are you going to have any trouble getting that to Mr. English’s personal assistant?” she asked from the doorway. She hadn’t announced herself and her voice made me jump.

“No!” I exclaimed, dropping the computer mouse on the desk in surprise. “No, I’m nearly done. Just giving it a once over before I send it.”

“I liked what I saw in the chapters you sent,” she said with a nod. It was the closest thing I’d ever gotten to a compliment, but it felt like ten.

“Thank you.”

She turned swiftly and disappeared into the darkened hallway without any further pleasantries. I sat in stunned silence for a moment, feeling like that the day from hell was somehow worth it for that alone.

A half hour later I declared defeat. I’d caught as much as I could. As hard as I’d tried, I knew I hadn’t spotted every single mistake but hoped that I’d done a good enough job. I sent the manuscript off with a few notes describing my thoughts of the work as a whole.

With dry, scratchy eyes and an empty belly, I stood and stretched, eager to leave the office. A low light in the room next to me caught my eye as I flicked off my lights. I stepped lightly to Abi’s office and had to clap a hand over my mouth to keep from laughing out loud.

Slumped on her desk, her chubby cheek resting in the palm of her hand, Abi had fallen asleep.

“Lisa already left,” I said louder than I needed to, grinning as she jumped awake. “You can stop pretending to be such a hard worker.”

It was incredible how quickly she recovered her bitch-face. The bright red blotch where her hand had pressed into her face still made me giggle. “I’m not pretending. I still have a lot to do,” she replied with her nose up in the air. As if to prove her point, she started clicked randomly around her computer.

“Uh huh. Well, I’m pretty sure she saw you sleeping at your desk. Wonder what sort of impression that made on her? Anywho, you have a good night. Don’t work too hard,” I smirked, knowing full well she’d be on the elevator right after I’d left. A part of me wanted to hang around the lobby just to catch her, but dinner and a cold beer were far more tempting than rubbing anything in Abi’s face.

I texted Anette and Zach on the way home, hoping I could time my arrival with a huge order of takeout. Zach replied he’d gone up to the Yankees game, which, as a die-hard Mets fan, I gave him shit for. Just as I climbed out of the station into the marginally cooler air, I remembered Anette was working again tonight. So with a little skip in my tired step, I walked home, looking forward to a rare night by myself. I grabbed a slice of pizza on the way, ordering from my favorite Thai place on my phone as I ate. Don’t judge me.

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