me to bed right after I narrowly dodged a drunken mess. Kinda hard denying he’s attractive at this point. I think I told him to his face. After acting like a total damsel-in-distress idiot in front of him. And I think I was messed up that night, who knows, maybe Count Dick-ula slipped something in my drink.”
“Not your fault. Ever,” she throws back.
“Sabrina, whether I was in my right mind or not, I hit on my boss.” I wince and then shudder at how bad my night could’ve ended if said boss hadn’t come to my rescue. “God. How do I ever deal with that? Especially daily...”
“I know. Working for Mag was hard. I had this weird kind of pull with him right away. You noticed, but he didn’t. It was tough working for him, because I didn’t think he felt the same vibe, and when I found out he did...then it got even harder because it had to be a secret. But I couldn’t ditch a good job, and neither can you.” She pauses. “Can you, I mean? I know your situation is a little bit different than mine.”
“In the sense that I can survive on less, yes. But you know I pay my own way and I’ve never wanted anything to do with my parents’ cash. Also, it’s Beatrice freaking Brandt...I may never get a job this good again, much less a chance to work for not-so-starving artists.”
We both pause, and I can hear the wheels in her head turning.
“Then you just have to be professional about it. You have two choices: go to work and pretend like you have no idea who he is or approach him. Admit that you had a terrible night, apologize, and ask to start over. Blank slate.”
“What would you do? Wait. You’re Brina. You’d do number two,” I say, cringing, and knowing it’s the sanest option. Also, the harshest.
She giggles.
“I don’t know if I can do it. You really expect me to, don’t you?” I ask, flicking my hair over my shoulder anxiously.
“Paige. You pied my billionaire husband right in the face when he was being a dick. You’re a badass, you make pretty things, and you’ve got this.”
I laugh. “I didn’t think I’d ever see Mag again.”
“Yes, you did. You knew he’d come back groveling to win me over,” she says with another jittery laugh.
“I did not grovel,” Mag snaps in the background.
“Tell him I’ll pie him again if he keeps lying,” I joke. “I just...I wish I could pie my way out of this mess, too.”
“Not sure that tactic would work here,” she agrees glumly.
She’s right though.
I need to face this with big-girl pants of steel. “Okay. So there’s this big design conference that’s keeping him busy and out of the office, but tomorrow’s the last day. I’ll catch him after he’s back and just try to clear the air.”
“Let me know how it goes. Hey, I have to go. Mag looks pissed and I’m not gonna lie...he’s sexy when he’s peeved. Talk to you tomorrow.”
Before I can say bye, she’s already gone.
I sigh.
All of my friends have moved on with their lives since college. Husbands, careers, travel, kids.
Me, I’m still here in this rented space with no adult attachments. Maybe I should buy a dog?
At least then I’d have someone to come home to and wouldn’t feel alone when I lick my wounds.
For now, I hope to everything almighty that I’m able to confront this office beast without taking too many arrows straight to the chest.
I sit at my desk trying to finish up replies to low priority emails when Beatrice comes out of her office and stops by my desk. “I have a charity event this afternoon, so I’ll be out the rest of the day. You can keep working on what you’ve been doing, and if Ward needs any help, assist him.”
I smile at her. “Sure, no problem.”
She looks at her watch. “Make sure you get lunch. Don’t let my grandson work you to death.”
I watch her float off in a hunter-green dress that looks like it was tailored for royalty. Everyone she passes by gives her authentic smiles, honest respect, and she stops to exchange a few words.
Dang. When I’m a grandma, I hope I’m a fraction as cool as her. Then again, to be a grandma, first I have to be a mom and to do that—yeah, well, never mind.
My eyes crawl to the door I’ve been dreading to look at since noon.