Going Nowhere (A Romantic Comedy Novella) (3 page)

I didn’t take too long in the bathroom consoling myself. Hiding in the bathroom all day was a good way to get fired even faster. No matter how I was feeling, I had to put in my time until my first allotted break.

Then I went straight to April’s desk.

When she saw me, she quickly mumbled something to whomever she was speaking to on the phone and hung up. “What happened?”

I walked behind her desk and slouched against the filing cabinet. Lowering my voice, I asked, “Is Sam in his office?”

She rolled her eyes. “Yes, he’s been in there all day, driving me crazy.”

“What’s the latest?”

“He has the amazing ability to make the simplest of tasks complicated and excruciating,” April said, crossing out an item on a long, handwritten list posted next to the phone. “And now he’s taken to drafting ‘to do’ lists for me.”

I grabbed the list.

Water Fifi.

Call dry cleaners and ask them to pick up pants (let me know five minutes before they get here so I can take them off).

Light incense (Patchouli only!).

Answer phone (if anyone calls).

Rearrange files by size, NOT name.

Obtain pink highlighter from supply closet.

Obtain blue highlighter from supply closet.

Obtain green highlighter from supply closet.

Obtain yellow highlighter from supply closet.

If supply closet has additional highlighter colors, obtain those, as well.

Pour regular coffee grinds into decaffeinated coffee bag and dispose of first bag.

April watched me read the list, then grimaced. “Can you believe him?”

“I can’t believe any of it. Except for watering Fifi. I assume that’s his plant?”

“Sure. She’s right here,” April said, pointing to an artificial ficus.

“Oh, I see.”

She scooted closer to me. “So what happened? You don’t look too happy.”

I stared at the floor, wishing I could lie down and pretend I was at home in bed. “I’m getting fired if I don’t figure something out.”

“Really?”

I fiddled with my skirt, realizing at that moment that it still sported grease spots from the potato chips I’d spilled on it last week. “Max says they’re talking about lay-offs and I’d be one of the first to get the boot. Which, obviously, is a step down from languishing as an associate while my brain gets dry rot.”

The phone on April’s desk buzzed. She pressed a button. “Yes?”

“I need a highlighter,” Sam said, his deep voice reverberating through the intercom.

April smiled mischievously at me before pressing the button. “What color?”

There was a lengthy pause, then, “Orange.”

“Sure. I’ll be right in.”

“Wait! I changed my mind. Better make that blue.”

“Okay‌—‌”

“Oh, no! Bring me the yellow.”

April picked up the letter opener on her desk and mimed slitting her throat with it.

“Are you still there, April?”

“Yes. I’ll bring the yellow highlighter in immediately.”

“And get rid of all those other damn colors! I don’t need the stress.”

I laughed as quietly as I could while April opened a drawer and took out the yellow highlighter.

“I’ll be right back,” she said.

I watched her go into Sam’s office and wished Mr. Goldblum was more approachable, more open to giving me an opportunity to show my worth. I’d never even been given a chance.

April quickly returned, being careful to shut Sam’s door. She looked at me and said, “I hate to say I told you so.”

“No, you don’t. You
love
to say I told you so.”

She shrugged. “True.”

I looked past her, at Sam’s office door. “So you think I’m not going to get a partnership because I don’t know how to suck up.”

She nodded. “I’m sure of it. The Suck Up Factor. Trademarked.”

“It is not.”

“Who did Max say was on the short list?”

“Zoe and Timmy,” I answered in pouty toddler voice.

“The biggest ass-kissers of them all! Zoe laughs at everyone’s jokes, no matter how stupid, and she bakes a cake whenever a partner has a birthday. Timmy brings Sam a venti white mocha frappuccino every morning, because he knows Sam likes them.”

“I wish he’d bring me one.”

“Exactly. Wouldn’t you like him a lot more if he did that for you every day? The same thing happens with Sam. Sam looks fondly upon the kid because he goes out of his way. Puts in that extra effort. How else do you think people get glowing recommendations?”

“Work ethic? Job performance?”

April laughed loudly.

My gaze darted around the office, wondering if she’d gotten anyone else’s attention. I looked at her, wrinkling my brow. “It’s not funny.”

She patted my hand. “I’m sorry, Kate, but you have a lot to learn. You have to stop expecting people to reward you for your hard work. In fact, the better you perform as an associate, the more they’ll want to keep you there.”

“What do you expect me to do, then?”

She glared at me. “Suck up. Suck up. Suck up. It’s the only way.”

I sighed. “Fine. Let’s pretend you’re right. How would you suggest I get started?”

“Fine. Let me think about it.” April picked up a ballpoint pen and started to press the button on the end.
Click, clack, click, clack
. She stared into space and pressed the little metal nub at a rate of about 200 clicks per second.

I grabbed the promotional Zoloft pen and held it above my head. “Your version of ‘thinking’ makes me want to kill myself.”

“I can’t think straight without having something to occupy my hands. That’s probably why I get my best ideas when I’m touching‌—‌”

The phone on her desk rang. She answered it then transferred the call to Sam. “What was I saying?”

I shrugged. “Let’s move on. So what do you think I can do?”

“Okay.” She leaned closer to me and lowered her voice. “I think you need to go straight to the source: Sam.”

I checked my watch. I was two minutes away from being late. “I’ve tried that, but you know how he is. Very unapproachable. Won’t accept a meeting with anyone.”

“Exactly. He’s unapproachable if you’re trying to schedule a meeting with him or do anything work related. If you could get closer to him on a more personal level...”

I gnawed on one of my fingernails and stared at the marquee running across April’s computer screen.
‘I brake for sales.’
How wise.

Then I looked down at my skirt again and had a grease spot epiphany. “What if there is a way I can get close to him without the distraction of work?”

“How?”

“I’ll go on that cruise he and Max are going on. Then he’ll have to notice me.”

“It’s short notice. Can you get the time off?”

“I think so. I haven’t taken a vacation in over a year.”

April bounced in her chair. “I could come with you! No way am I missing this. I don’t have anything to do without Sam being here, anyway.”

“Do you have all the details of his cruise?”

She nodded and starting typing. “It’s all right here.”

I read the screen from over her shoulder. “Seven-day Eastern Caribbean. This is going to be fun. It’s not sold out, is it?”

“Doesn’t look like it,” April replied, with a flick of one tennis bracelet-covered wrist. “Write down your credit card number and I’ll book it.”

Taking a deep breath, I did as she asked. Too much online shopping meant I had my MasterCard number memorized, including the expiration date and security code. After I handed her the paper, I turned away. “I have to get back to my desk.”

I heard her typing away. “This is going to be great.”

I sure hoped so. I wished I could be as optimistic as she was, but that wasn’t important. What
was
important was that I was taking matters into my own hands. Instead of waiting for the partners to decide my fate while I sat quietly with my fingers crossed, I was going to try something.

If nothing else, it was better than nothing.

When the morning of the cruise finally arrived, April picked me up and, for once, she was on time. I heaved my two suitcases into the trunk of her BMW as soon as she pulled up. With all the occasions I had to be prepared for, it was a miracle I’d been able to pack so lightly. There were casual clothes, pool clothes, formal night clothes, and all the uncomfortable “sexy” clothes that squeezed me in the right places so that I looked good but could no longer breathe.

I slid into the passenger seat and smiled. “Well, here goes nothing.”

April peered at me from above a pair of silver Chanel sunglasses. “You need to work on your enthusiasm.”

“You’re right. That is another one of my flaws.” I looked out my window at the storefronts we drove past on Alton Road on our way to the Port of Miami. “Enthusiasm: check.”

April turned onto Fifth Street and made her way west, toward Macarthur Causeway. “Fake it ’til you make it.”

“I feel like a new woman. I feel like I can accomplish anything.”

“You’re welcome.” April changed gears so roughly that I thought she might break the damn thing off.

I bit my tongue, trying not to say anything. “You can’t take
all
the credit.”

“True. Going on this cruise was your idea. You’ve got balls, that’s for sure.”

The smile disappeared from my face. “Why? Do you think I’m crazy for even attempting this?”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“I’m practically stalking him, aren’t I? What if the first time I run into him, he tells me to go away and leave him alone? What then?”

April patted my rapidly quivering hand, which unfortunately required her to remove one hand from the steering wheel. “Sam doesn’t have a girlfriend, and have you looked in the mirror lately? You’re a hot chick.”

The smile returned. “Only in a funhouse mirror.”

April rolled her eyes while turning a sharp corner. “Did you take my other advice?”

A vein in my forehead started to pulse as we almost took out a mailbox. “Do you think you could you slow down a bit before you start running down pedestrians?”

With a scornful look on her face, April slowed down. A bit.

I rolled down the window, hoping the cool bay air would combat my nausea. “Yes, I took your advice. Most of the stuff I packed is cleavage-baring.”

She nodded and lit up a cigarette. “Good. And you also have me as your secret weapon. I can come up with all sorts of excuses to see Sam. Actually, when I told him I’d be on the same cruise, he acted like I’d still be around to fetch him things.”

“Don’t play, April. I remember the time the CIO tried to steal you away to be his assistant and you turned him down. I think you appreciate Sam’s quirks.”

“Don’t think so.” April tapped the ashes from her cigarette into the ashtray on the console. She pulled into one of the covered long-term parking garages and found a space near the elevator.

I got out of the car, and as soon as I heard the distinctive sound of the trunk lock popping open, I retrieved my two heavy suitcases. I was moving a lot faster than usual, and I tried to stop myself because I knew it was entirely due to nerves. I took a couple of deep breaths as I watched April pull out her cases.

After going through security and a long line to check in, we were ready to board the ship. I could begin to take the future into my own hands. I realized how out of the ordinary the whole thing was, but it wasn’t that different from networking. I was trying
something,
which was a whole lot better than sitting at home feeling sorry for myself.

I pulled out the handles on both rolling carry-ons and angled them toward the entrance. “Shall we?”

Promotion or bust!

T
HE WALK ONTO
the ship was anticlimactic.

From the terminal, we went up connected metal ramps that ended in a short tunnel that led from the terminal to the ship itself. We walked onto Deck Five, where the most eye-catching feature was the view of the life rafts.

April and I headed for the nearest automatic door, following the crowd. It opened with a
whoosh
and then we were inside the frigidly air-conditioned promenade level. A man in a Hawaiian shirt was holding a tray of piña coladas. “Would you like to try the drink of the day?”

I shook my head at the same time April said, “No, thank you,” and we hurried to the elevator. We’d done extensive research since we’d decided to take the cruise. Those drinks were almost ten dollars.

We found our cabin and I was very happy that April had insisted we carry on our luggage so we didn’t have to wait for it to arrive. I shut the door behind me and took my first look around.

“Well?” April said. “What do you think?”

It was an inside cabin with no windows‌—‌like an apartment bathroom. With the lights off, it would be pitch dark in there. I hoped I wouldn’t wake up in the middle of the night and try to pee on the bedside table.

The two beds were small, but adequate, with a Miami-Vice-style bedside table between them. I think I had a similar one when I was twelve. I sat on one of the beds. “These cabins looked bigger in the pictures.”

“I know, right? And fancier, too. No one spends time in their room, so I think we made the right choice from a financial standpoint.”