But then my second instinct rolls around about fifteen seconds later, whacks me over the head and reminds me there is a consequence of actually going into the office: I’ll be forced to see Ben. I recognize I am being a tad over dramatic and truth be told, I can’t avoid him forever. But I can’t fathom my reality right now. I would rather hide out in my condo and pretend the outside world doesn’t exist, and that Jessica didn’t hate me, and that Ben didn’t dis me entirely by boarding an early flight.
Instead I call in sick and make up some lame excuse about having traveler’s diarrhea. Then I fumble my way into the bathroom, brush out my bed head and wash away my mascara ridden raccoon eyes. It doesn’t take long after that for me to treat myself to a pity parade. I find my way into my kitchen, chow down on a whole box of Oreo cookies and pound back a pint of freezer burnt cookie dough ice cream. My stomach moans and groans, then bloats up like a balloon. I walk helplessly into my bedroom, close my blinds and bury my head into my pillows to create a world of darkness and sob. But even after some good dry heaves, a full box of Kleenex, and a “Big Bang Theory” marathon on Comedy Central, I still feel like I am being somewhat of a loser. I feel guilty for taking a fake sick day, especially after I just took a week off. But more importantly I feel pathetic about moping around like a heartbroken hormonal adolescent.
I decide to check in with fellow realtor/friend, Emily Waterford, who covered for me all week while I was away. Her chipper voice beams through the line, and cheerfully informs me we closed three properties and I picked up six new listings. But before I can even ask her any follow up questions, Emily blurts out that one of my new properties is a multimillion-dollar listing in the Gold Coast district. I nearly drop my phone on the hardwood floor and grab onto my nightstand to stop myself from keeling over.
“Really?” I squeal.
“Yes really!” Emily shouts. She’s so loud, I have to pull the phone away from my ear, “The lady who owns the property said she heard you were the best and only wanted you on her listing.”
I jump and down and bite my tongue just so I don’t let out one too many ridiculous shouts of joy. I dance around my bedroom and celebrate in my cozy pyjamas. This news brings on my first real wave of happiness in the past few days. I’ve come so far in my career to land a property like that! I wish I could just hang up with Emily and call Ben to gush about this great accomplishment, but obviously that isn’t going to happen. I am sure he already heard about it anyway. News like that around our office doesn’t stay quiet for long.
“Well enough about work. How was the wedding?” Emily asks with her bubbly British accent.
Emily moved from England to follow her high-school sweetheart, when he landed some high-paying marketing job in Chicago. But last year, he left her for another woman and she was devastated. She even contemplated heading back to England to be with her family, but ultimately decided to stay here while the real estate market was booming.
“It was great.” I lie through my teeth and take a sip of my coffee.
“I bet.” she squeals, then continues with a chuckle, “I’m glad you’re back. But even more so relieved to have Ben and his sexy self floating around the office again.”
“Oh yeah…” I mutter hoping Emily will catch on to my disinterest in her Ben obsession.
She continues to ramble, “When he strolled in this morning, he lit up the room looking so ravishing with his tan. Thank God I had to meet a client though. I was hardly able to stay focused with him prancing all around my desk.”
Ugggghhhh! I just want to hang up right now. Emily has always been drawn to Ben, but it became progressively worse once she became single. She always makes ridiculous comments to me, like how hot Ben looks in blue or how tight his butt looks in a pair of slacks. She inappropriately flirts with him at work, making it border line sexual harassment. I would normally laugh at her and act disgusted when she decided to share her Ben