His To Shatter (6 page)

“Thank you very much,” I replied, stunned by
his praise. A little bit of cordiality in the elevator could go a
long way, apparently.

“Do you all have questions for Madison?”
Corelli asked the other employees.

“We do,” said one, the older of the two men.
“May we proceed?”

“By all means, James” Corelli said, leaning
back in his chair. “I want to hear more from Ms. Clearly,
here.”

“Certainly,” said the man called James. He
turned to me with a very toothy smile. “Hello, Madison. We’re glad
you could come in today.”

“I’m very glad to be here,” I said.

“You must have a lot of interviews for the
summer,” he went on. “What other firms are you interviewing
with?”

“None,” I answered.

“None?” the woman asked, surprised. “Most of
our candidates have put applications in at a dozen firms.”

“I’ve only ever been interested in interning
at Corelli,” I said. “This really is the best international
marketing firm there is, and at this stage of my life I want to be
working with the best so that I can learn as much as possible.”

“And you’re studying here in the city?” asked
the younger man of the trio.

“Yes,” I answered, “At NYU.”

“Are you finding grad school to be
rewarding?” asked the woman.

“Absolutely,” I answered. “This is really the
only thing that I want to be doing. I feel like I’m at the exact
right place in my trajectory right now. It’s a good feeling.”

“Why is international marketing the only
thing you want to do?” asked James. “Why do you think you’re suited
to it?”

I took a minute to gather my thoughts. This
seemed to be the question on which the whole interview hinged. “To
me,” I began, “Marketing is about cooperation and connectedness.
It’s a way of making things happen all over the world that will
benefit everyone involved. The way that Corelli seems to operate,
only the most positive collaborations take place, collaborations
that help the world become a better place in some way or another.
Even if it’s the simplest of things. I want to work in a place that
deals in improvement, and innovation. I just think it would be the
most exciting way to go through one’s professional life. And I also
think that’s why I would be great at international marketing—I am
always looking for ways to better myself and my situation. I did
not grow up in a very positive environment, but I learned early on
that my destiny was in my control, as long as I was enterprising
enough to change my situation. I really do think that I am the best
person for this internship, and I hope that you choose me to take
it on.”

There was silence in the room for a long
moment after I finished speaking. I looked back at my interviewers,
trying very hard to keep my breathing even. Finally, a huge smile
broke out across Corelli’s face.

“Thank you, Madison,” he said. “We’ll be in
touch.”

I remembered how to breathe and thanked them
for their time, the world around me was a rush as the adrenaline
surged through my body. As I made my way back to the ground floor
and back out into the real world, I was satisfied knowing I had
done the best I could possibly have done. The ball was in their
court. I climbed back on the subway and headed downtown, eager to
get home and relax. It wasn’t until I got onto my very street that
I noticed I had a new voice mail. I must have missed a call while I
was underground on the train. I brought my phone to my ear as the
voice mail began to play.

“Hello Ms. Cleary,” said a voice. It was the
receptionist from Corelli. “We’re pleased to offer you the summer
internship in Paris.”

I didn’t hear the rest of the message—I was
cheering too loudly. Every scrap of self-consciousness left me as I
leapt into the air right there on the sidewalk, jumping and
shouting in utter glee. I fumbled with my phone, nearly dropping it
to smash on the sidewalk. My feet carried me up to my front door,
straight up the flights of stairs. I felt like I was walking on air
the whole way.

* * * * *

Chapter Four

* * * * *

“I got it!” I screamed as I wrenched open the
front door of my apartment. “I got it, I got it, I got it!”

Dara’s tousled head poked around through the
doorway of her bedroom. I’d clearly caught her in the midst of a
post-coital nap. Her big drowsy eyes blinked at me, comprehension
still a moment away. Ashlee jolted out of her room as well, looking
far more alert than Dara. Her audition had her adrenaline as pumped
up as mine.

“What did you say?” she breathed, crossing
her fingers.

“I got the internship,” I repeated. I was
surprised to find that my eyes had filled with happy tears. “I’m
going to Paris!”

My friends fell upon me in a wave of
clamoring limbs and ecstatic cries. We threw our arms around each
other, vibrating with joy, jumping and dancing and throwing our
heads back in laughter. I was beside myself with excitement and
gratitude. Not only had I just won the internship of a lifetime, I
was lucky enough to get to celebrate it with the two best friends a
girl could possibly ask for.

“What’s going on?” said a voice from the
hallway. I looked up and Kyle emerging from our bathroom.

Three best friends
, I amended in my
thoughts.

“Our little girl is going to Paris!” Ashlee
squealed, wrapping her arms tightly around my torso.

Kyle let out a wordless howl of delight and
flew across the room to us. He snatched me up from the others and
twirled me around in the air. I laughed with abandon, so touched by
my friends’ happiness on my behalf.

“We have to celebrate,” Dara insisted.
“Everybody, put on your Sunday best. We’re hitting the bar!”

Ashlee and Kyle roared their approval of
Dara’s plan, though I felt just a tad deflated. I wasn’t exactly a
bar fly kind of girl, given my family’s history with booze. I would
tag along when my friends were headed out for the evening, sure,
but it would never be my first choice destination. I usually ended
up playing den mother when a big group of us went out—not exactly
my idea of a good time. Still, my three friends were looking at my
expectantly, and I couldn’t very well say no to them. I smiled as
gamely as I could, and headed off into my room to get dressed for
the night.

Despite being a little put off by the bar
outing, my entire body was positively vibrating with delight. I
replayed the interview over and over again in my head. It was hard
to believe that the whole thing had gone down just that afternoon.
The whole day had been so utterly surreal that I halfway feared I
was dreaming. As I stripped off my sleek interview outfit, I
pinched the tender skin of my upper arms to make sure I wasn’t
dreaming. My life hadn’t exactly been exciting up until that
point—but were things finally starting to turn out?

I dug through my closet, looking for
something suitable to wear out on the town. I could hear my trio of
companions chattering excitedly behind my closed door. They all got
changed and dressed with their doors open, not caring if someone
saw them getting naked. I had always been a little more guarded. It
wasn’t that I necessarily believed in the importance of modesty, at
least not the way it’s thrown around and moralized by small town
mothers like my own. I just didn’t feel quite so comfortable being
naked in front of other people. The only people who had seen me
naked as an adult had been Marc. And that hadn’t exactly been a
confidence-boosting experience.

“Imagine how hot you would be if you lost,
like, five pounds,” he had said to me once, right after we’d slept
together in his cluttered dorm room. I’d been so embarrassed that I
couldn’t speak. He’d been a master at making me feel insecure. His
jabs had been so simple and cutting that I internalized them almost
immediately. I’d never felt that my body was inadequate before I
started sleeping with Marc. Sure, I has hardly a stick, but I felt
comfortable in my own skin. Marc had made me question everything,
and though we hadn’t dated for years, I still felt the sting of his
criticism. Maybe that was part of the reason that I still hadn’t
been with anyone else.

My thoughts were ripped away from the
unseemliness of my one and only boyfriend by a dress that was
hidden away in the back of my closet. I laughed, realizing that it
was my old prom dress. My family hadn’t had a lot of money, so I
had to buy a getup for prom by myself, saving up all the tips I
earned scooping ice cream at a little shop in West Chester. Those
tips hadn’t exactly been generous, as most of my customers had been
little kids with leftover lunch money, and my dress had been rather
simple in the end. It was a little red number, super tight and
fitted in just the right way to bring flatter my hourglass figure.
I’d definitely looked out of place among the puffy pink gowns of my
classmates, but I had a feeling that this dress would be the
perfect thing for a night out on the town.

I squeezed into the garment, and was shocked
to find that it still fit, more or less. The only difference now
was that my boobs had grown quite a bit. I twirled around before my
mirror, amused by how uncharacteristically much like Jessica Rabbit
I looked.
Why not?
I thought, pulled my ash blonde hair up
into a messy up-do. It was a special night, after all. I’d made it
through my interview like a rock star, I figured that I might as
well dress like one, too. I put on some deep red lipstick and a
couple fierce swipes of liquid eyeliner to complete my look.
Satisfied and as dolled-up as I’d ever been, I cracked open my
bedroom door.

Ashlee, Dara, and Kyle were standing around
the kitchen, about to take a pre-game shot. They looked up in
unison as I came toward them and gasped collectively. I’d never
seen three jaws drop as one, before that moment.

“Maddie?!” Ashlee breathed, giving me a
searching once-over, “When the hell did you become a sex pot?”

“Is that Maddie?” Dara broke in, taking a
tentative step towards me, “Or is this an
Invasion of the Body
Snatchers
moment?”

“I think that’s our Maddie,” Ashlee said,
“But how can we be sure?”

“Quick,” Dara said to me, “What was my
nickname for Nick Bowman’s cock during our sophomore year?”

“The Incredible Shrinking Man,” I smiled.

“It’s her!” Dara cried, clapping her hands
together.

“Where have you been hiding all this?” Ashlee
demanded.

“OK, OK,” I said, “That’s enough. You act
like you’ve never seen me looking nice before.” Dara and Ashlee
fell silent. Indignant, I planted my hands on my hips, “You’re
supposed to tell me that I always look nice, assholes.”

“I think you always look nice,” Kyle finally
spoke up. “Especially without all that crap on your face.”

I smirked right back at him. There was no way
his charming sense of sarcasm was going to spoil my good mood, not
that night. Dara grabbed a shot off the counter and held it up to
the assembled group in a toast. Ashlee and Kyle followed suit, and
the three of them were about to take their first shot of the
evening when I surprised myself by interjecting.

“Give me one too,” I said. They looked at me
like I’d sprouted another head. “Seriously,” I said, emboldened by
my surreal and exciting day, “I just want to try one.”

“Maddie,” Kyle said, “You never drink. I’ve
seen you have, like, three glasses of chardonnay since I’ve known
you.”

“Yeah, well I’ll have to build up my
tolerance for all the fancy business lunches I’ll be having soon,”
I said. I could hardly believe that these words were coming out of
my mouth. I’d always avoided alcohol in my adult life for fear of
ending up like my father. But that day, I felt like the dark memory
of his sickness had finally lifted. I felt absolutely invincible,
like an entirely new woman. My successful interview and the bizarre
appearance of my personal savior had me feeling like the queen of
Manhattan. If I wanted to throw on a sexy dress and take a shot or
two, why shouldn’t I let myself? After so many buttoned-up years, I
felt ready to let loose a little. I deserved it, didn’t I?

“Are you sure you really want this?” Ashlee
said.

Their reluctance was a little irritating, to
say the least. “I don’t need to be nannied about this,” I said.

“We’re not trying to nanny you,” Dara
replied, “We’re just trying to be good friends. We don’t want you
to regret anything.”

“I only regret not letting myself have any
fun sooner,” I said. “Come on. Pour me a shot. I’ve never even had
one.”

Stealing a sidelong glance at Ashlee, Dara
reached for the bottle of booze and poured out a fourth shot for
me. She handed me the tiny glass, and a swell of anticipation rose
in my belly as I took it from her. I felt ridiculous for being
nervous.

“To Madison,” Ashlee said, “And to every
heart she’s going to break in Paris!” They slugged back their
shots, and I bravely swallowed the contents of my glass in one gulp
as well. The sudden burn in the back of my throat should have left
me coughing, but instead I was grinning. The warm flow of the
liquor felt amazing. I hadn’t expected to like the taste of it,
either—but I did. I really did.

“Well,” Kyle said, “How was your first shot
of whiskey?”

I smacked my lips in response, drawing
relieved giggles from Dara and Ashlee. It felt wonderful to be
included in the fun, for once. We gathered our things excitedly and
headed out into the warm night. The Lower East Side had come alive,
as it always did after the sun had set. Swells of people flowed
over the worn sidewalks, artistic types for the most part. The air
hung heavy with the smells of cigarette smoke, flowing booze, and
excitement. This was the neighborhood people flocked to when they
were looking to escape from the pressing drudgery of the week. And
it seemed that everyone out and about that evening was ready and
waiting for something incredible to happen.