Authors: Ivy Smoak
Bee
"I'm so, so sorry," Kendra said. "For what
it's worth, your idea was a lot better than Jenkins'."
"Thanks." I took a bite of my peanut butter and
jelly sandwich. "Can I run something by you real quick?"
"Of course."
"I think if I'm ever going to make it in advertising I
need to get some experience. There's probably a better shot of me getting
something in one of the small agencies back home. Even if it's unpaid or
something. Don't you think?"
"Back home?"
"Yeah. I'm thinking I might move back to Wilmington for
awhile. Just until I figure some stuff out."
"Wait, what?" Kendra put her sandwich down on her
desk. "You're not serious? Just because of the meeting? Whatever, people
will forget about it tomorrow. And like I said, it was a good idea. Mr.
Ellington will notice you eventually. You just need to give it more time."
I sighed. "I'm pretty sure Mr. Ellington has already
noticed me. The only promotion I'll ever get here is becoming one of Mr.
Ellington's mistresses."
"Ew." Kendra frowned. "I'm sure that's not
true."
"Yeah, well I told him I didn't want to be his secretary
forever. And he said I was due for a promotion. And then he looked at me in a
really creepy way."
"He always looks creepy. You probably imagined it."
"But right before that he said that my skin wasn't thick
enough to be in advertising. So what else could the promotion he suggested be?
He definitely wasn't referring to an advertising gig."
Kendra took a sip of her diet coke. "If that really is
what he meant, you can sue him you know. That's sexual harassment."
"I'm not going to sue my boss."
"And why not? He's a complete pig. If anyone ever filed
a lawsuit, every girl in this office would sign off on it."
"Would you lower your voice?" We were eating lunch
in Kendra's cubicle, which wasn't that far away from Mr. Ellington's office.
"I tried. I gave it my best shot. I'm not cut out for this city. Mr.
Ellington's right. I don't have thick skin. My skin is thin." I looked
down at my arm. "Translucent, really. I'm so pale, I look sickly."
Kendra laughed. "You know what, fuck Mr. Ellington. You
do have thick skin. You're finally moving on from Patrick. Don't let this set
you back. You have that date tonight. Things are looking up. You're Kick Ass
Bee."
"Yeah, I can't go on that date. Mr. Ellington is
punishing me by having me transfer tons of useless documents into digital form.
It's going to take forever. There's no way I'll have time to go back to my
apartment and change before my date. I'm just going to cancel."
"You're not canceling."
"So you think I should just go like this? It will look
like I didn't try at all. That's a terrible first impression."
"Bee, you always look great. Don't give me that shit. And
being a dedicated employee is nothing to be ashamed about. But I agree, you
have to look amaze-balls for a first date. And I have the perfect
solution."
"I can't afford to go shopping. My rent is due in a few
weeks and I..."
"It doesn't involve going shopping. I have a sexy dress
here that you can borrow." She stood up and grabbed a dry cleaning bag
that was hanging from the side of her cubicle.
"We don't wear the same size."
"Yes we do."
"Fine. But we don't have the same style."
"You mean you like to dress conservatively? I know.
Which is why it's probably for the best that you have to borrow something from
me." She pushed back the plastic that was covering it.
It was a short, low-cut black dress. Which actually wasn't
what I was expecting at all. I thought there'd be more straps. And less fabric.
"So? What do you think?"
"It's great. Are you sure it's okay if I borrow
it?"
"Absolutely."
"Why do you have this here?"
"I picked it up from the drycleaners before lunch. I was
going to wear it to that bar that just opened up."
"Oh. Kendra, I can't borrow this if you're going to wear
it tonight."
Kendra laughed. "Yeah, I'm fine going to that bar
wearing what I'm wearing. I'm sure everyone's just going straight there after
work anyway."
"Are you sure?"
"Absolutely. This dress is going to look amazing on
you."
"I feel like going on this date a different night would
be better though. I haven't exactly been having a stellar day."
"Which is why you should go. A great date will turn your
whole day around. Besides, if you really want to get over Patrick you need to
get under someone else."
"Ew. Seriously? That's terrible advice. I'm not doing
that."
"Actually, it's great advice. And you know it. How did
you get over the guy you dated before Patrick?"
"I didn't. I mean, Patrick was my only boyfriend. I
never dated anyone before him."
"Wait, are you telling me you've only ever had sex with
Patrick?"
"Jesus, Kendra, please lower your voice."
She laughed. "I'm sorry, but that's ridiculous. No
wonder you were so upset about the break up."
"I was upset because we dated for five years and were
engaged. And he was cheating on me. And I don't even know for how long."
"I know. I'm sorry. But you don't even know what else is
out there. Dating is fun, Bee. There's someone out there that is so much better
than Patrick. And probably a better lay too. You should really be more
adventurous." She took a bite of her sandwich.
"Maybe."
"Let's stalk Mason. What's his last name?"
"I don't know. Marie didn't say."
"Damn. There's probably thousands of Mason's in New
York."
"And isn't that cheating anyway? We're both supposed to
go into the date blind."
"You don't think he already looked you up?"
"Wait, you think he did?"
"Maybe. Let's see what he could have found." She
typed my name into Google and clicked on my Facebook profile. "Why the
hell is there a picture of you and Patrick as your profile picture?"
"I haven't been on it in awhile."
"Bee, it still says you're engaged to him! What is wrong
with you?!"
"I know. It's just...he never changed it either. I
thought maybe it meant he was still holding on somehow. Won't he get a
notification if I change it? It's almost like that makes it officially
over."
"It was officially over when you gave him back the
ring."
I ran my thumb along the spot where my ring had once been.
Kendra clicked on Patrick's name. "See." She turned
her screen to me. There was a picture of Patrick with his arms wrapped around
some brunette girl with huge breasts.
"Okay. I'll change my relationship status to single. I'm
going to go get my work done."
"Bee." Kendra put her hand on my wrist. "I'm
sorry. I wasn't trying to make you upset. I'm just trying to help."
"No, it's fine. You're right. If he really wanted me, he
would have tried to make it work. I'll change it." I walked back to my
desk and sat down.
I had thought Patrick and I were okay. We were both working
long hours. When I had found out about him cheating, he had said it was my
fault. That I wasn't giving him what he needed. Because I came back from work
tired and ready for bed. So for a long time after I found out he was cheating I
had blamed myself. As if him being a dick was somehow my fault. It wasn't. He
was just an asshole. And I did need to move on. He wasn't the same person that
he was when he had proposed. When he had proposed he had meant what he said.
But the city had changed him. His new life wasn't something that I fit into.
And now it seemed more like it was because I never belonged in New York in the
first place.
***
"Hey, are you almost done?" Kendra was standing by
my desk holding the dress in her hands. There were only a few people in the
office still. It was past 5 o'clock on a Friday. Most people had left exactly
at five.
"No. But I should be done in a few hours."
"Is it something I could help with?"
"You're already letting me borrow your dress. You should
go have fun at that bar."
"Look, Bee, I'm sorry about earlier. I shouldn't have
looked at Patrick's Facebook page. I wasn't trying to rub it in your
face..."
"I know. You're just trying to help. And I am ready to
get over him. But what if I don't know how? I don't even remember how to go on
a date."
Kendra laughed and pulled up a chair to my desk. "Of
course you know how to date. It's like riding a bike."
"A bike doesn't try to have a conversation with
you."
"But you ride both a date and a bike."
"Oh, God." I rolled my eyes.
"Just be yourself, Bee. Any guy would be lucky to have
you. You should try that thing where you say yes to everything."
"So, like if he says let's go have sex in my car I
should say yes without even thinking about it?"
"Absolutely."
"I thought you told me to be myself."
Kendra laughed. "Well be a sexy, flirtatious version of
yourself. How about I call you at nine? That way if you need an escape you can
pretend there's some emergency you need to attend to."
"Now you're talking."
"Okay. I'll call at nine. But if you're already home in
bed alone, I'm never speaking to you again. Our friendship is over."
Kendra stood up.
"That's a little harsh."
"Tough love, Bee. And don't you dare start talking about
Patrick on your date. There's nothing less sexy than talking about an ex on a
date."
"Okay. I didn't realize how many rules there were to
blind dates."
"You'll be fine. I'll call you at nine. Have fun."
She gave me a huge smile.
"When you smile like that you look like a
psychopath."
"Thanks. Bye, Bee."
"Bye, Kendra."
Bee
I quickly slid off my pencil skirt and unbuttoned my blouse.
My elbow hit the wall of the bathroom stall and I cursed under my breath. If I
knew that this was going to be how my evening would start, I never would have
agreed to go. I stepped into the black cocktail dress and held my breath as I
zippered up the back. It was a little tight, but it would work. And it was
definitely better than my work clothes, which I would have had to wear if
Kendra hadn't just picked this dress up from the drycleaners during her lunch
break. I'd have to text her to thank her again for letting me borrow it. She
was a life saver.
Luckily I had worn heels to work today because of the meeting.
The flats I tended to wear on a daily basis would have looked comical with the
fancy dress. I stepped back into my high heels and smoothed the dress down. I
took a deep breath. A black dress and black heels were perfect for a first
date. He probably wouldn't even be able to guess that I had gotten ready at the
office.
My nerves were starting to get the better of me. I had never
been on a blind date before and I hadn't been on a first date in over five
years. And of course Mr. Ellington had made me stay late tonight of all nights
so that I wouldn't have time to go home and get ready. I didn't know anyone
else who had to stay late on a Friday.
I folded my work clothes and unlocked the stall door. As soon
as I saw myself in the mirror, I stopped.
Oh God, I look like a hooker
.
The tightness of the dress pushed my breasts up. They were basically pouring
out. I lifted the neckline as I walked over to the sink. Better. But not great.
I leaned over the sink and applied my favorite red lipstick.
I smacked my lips together and stared at my reflection. The dark circles under
my eyes were all I seemed to see. I grabbed some foundation out of my purse and
blotted a bit under my eyes. These long hours were going to kill me. I ran my
fingers through my hair. That would have to do. I needed to be across town and
I was running late.
I stopped by my desk to drop off my work clothes and grab my
jacket. I felt a hand on my shoulder and I screamed at the top of my lungs.
"Bridget, it's just me."
"Oh God." I placed my hand on my chest. "You
scared me half to death, Mr. Ellington."
"Please, call me Joe." His hand lingered on my
shoulder. "How many times do I have to remind you?"
I nodded my head. It didn't matter how many times he told me
to call him by his first name. I would never find it appropriate.
"You're here late," he said.
"I know. I was finishing the documents you sent me. You
should have gotten them. I emailed them to you a few minutes ago. I'm sorry, I
didn't realize anyone else was still here." My heart was still beating
fast. I looked around the room at the empty cubicles. It was just the two of
us.
"I appreciate you staying so late. How about I treat you
to a drink to show my appreciation? There's a new bar that just opened up down
the street." He was hovering close to me. He always had a way of making me
feel uncomfortable. I hadn't kept track of how many inappropriate passes he had
made at me since I started here, but it was definitely more than I could count
on two hands. And after the comments he made today in his office, I had never
felt so uncomfortable around him.
I leaned away from him. "I can't tonight."
Or
any night!
"Oh. How is your boyfriend doing?"
"My fiancé. And we're not...I mean, he isn't..." I
sighed. I felt my face flushing. "We broke up."
"So how about that drink? To help take your mind off
things?"
"I can't, I have plans. If you'll excuse me, Mr.
Ellington. I'm already running late."
His lips grew taught. "Maybe next time then. I hope you
have a good evening, Bridget."
"You too, sir." I grabbed my jacket and hurried
off. My heels clicked on the floor as I made my way to the elevator. I hated
that sound. I always felt like it drew attention to me. Even though my flats
would have looked ridiculous with the dress, I found myself wishing I had worn them
today.
When I reached the tinted glass elevator doors, I looked at
my reflection again.
Oh crap
. I turned to the side. The lines of my
thong showed clearly though the tight fabric. The elevator dinged and I quickly
stepped in. I had about a minute. As soon as the door closed, I dropped my
jacket and purse to the floor and kicked off my heels. I slid my nylons and
thong down my legs and shoved both into my purse.
I was just putting my feet back into my heels when the doors
opened. I got off the elevator and looked at my reflection again in the tinted
glass.
Much better
. I pulled on my jacket and rushed through the lush
lobby. A wave of cold air hit me as I stepped outside. I was so sick of winter.
The street was relatively empty. Taxis didn't usually come by
as often once the offices were closed, especially this late on a Friday. I
began to walk toward the subway. The wind bit my cheeks and I pulled my jacket
tighter around myself. I rounded the corner and saw a taxi speeding down the
road. I stepped onto the curb and held my hand out for him.
The taxi slowed down and pulled to a stopped in front of me.
I stepped into the street and reached for the door. But before I could, a man
grabbed the handle.
"Hey! This is my taxi."
"Sugar, don't get your panties in a bunch. You'll get
the next one."
"Excuse me?"
What the hell is his problem?
"You heard me, baby."
I turned to him. He was a handsome pretentious bastard, just
like every other suit in this city. I wanted to slap his beautiful, smug face.
Instead I balled my hands into fists. "Where do you get off?"
"I'm running late," he said calmly.
"So am I."
"Then we should stop wasting each other's time." He
climbed into the car.
"Hey!" I yelled as he closed the door. I slammed my
palm against the window as the taxi sped off.
I wasn't just sick of the cold. I was so sick of this city.