Just a Girl - Becky Monson Page 0,47
our “relationship,” Henry telling me he’s going to do the feature that I came up with. The feature that was supposed to be for an intern and not my crazy-hot new boss. How am I supposed to watch Central Florida fawn all over Henry? If I could just go back in time, I’d come up with another promo. Or put tape over Moriarty’s mouth.
“So, will you be working on this with him?” Bree asks, her blonde hair piled on top of her head in a messy bun that doesn’t look so messy on Bree.
“I . . . don’t know. Maybe?” I don’t want to say out loud what I’m fairly confident will happen: they’ll give the feature to Moriarty. That’s how most things work at the station. Pretty much any ideas I’ve come up with have gone to Moriarty. I only kept the one I did with Holly because she told the station she wouldn’t do it if I wasn’t involved. Like the true friend that she is.
“And you’ll have to watch him . . . date other women?” Holly asks, a concerned look on her face.
I blow air out of my mouth, making a raspberry sound. “Yep.”
“Well that’s dumb,” Bree says.
“What are you going to do about Brady?” Holly asks before picking up a slice of pizza covered in cheese and pepperoni.
I sigh. “I don’t know. I know I need to tell him that this thing is just casual. Or maybe I just need to tell him it’s over.”
“You know what I think,” Bree says, giving me a sly grin. “I think you should use this to your advantage.”
“How’s that?” I question her through squinty eyes. I’ve known Bree since our sophomore year of college. She doesn’t exactly have the best track record with men. Or advice on men.
“I mean, you’ve got this Brady guy, and it sounds to me like Henry might be a little jealous,” Bree says, picking a slice of olive off her pizza and popping it in her mouth.
I smack my lips. “I don’t think he was jealous. More like confused.”
“But from the way you tell it, it sounded like he was mad,” Bree says.
“He definitely seemed mad,” Holly pipes in. “Plus, he sent out that email.”
“I think that was more about him and his rules. I mean, he had no reason to think that Brady and I were . . . whatever we are.” He did see me holding hands with Brady the day before, when he was trying to comfort me after I saw myself performing that bad-word rap. Could that have been the catalyst for him sending that station-wide email? The notion seems ridiculous. Like that would be giving it all too much credit.
“I don’t think he was jealous. It didn’t seem like he cared all that much,” I say, after swallowing a bite of pizza. I set my slice down on my plate.
“I think he was . . . What’s the word?” Bree looks to Holly.
“Projecting?” Holly offers.
“Yeah, that. Projecting. I bet he’s totally jealous, and I think you should use this whole Brady thing to your advantage,” Bree says.
I shake my head. “I don’t want to use Brady.” Even if I knew it would one hundred percent, without a doubt, make Henry jealous, I don’t think I could do that to Brady. Well, I’m pretty sure. At least, I hope I wouldn’t be that person.
“I’m not saying to actually use him, just the idea of him.” Bree says this like she’s appalled that I didn’t catch her meaning.
“I’m not following.”
“You don’t have to flaunt him around or anything. Just, when you’re talking to Henry, say things like ‘Brady says the funniest things!’ or ‘The other day when Brady and I were making out in the audio booth’—”
“Bree!” I say her name loudly, cutting her off. “I should have never told you about the audio booth.”
“It sounds sexy,” she says, her gaze wistful. “Oh! You should lure Henry into the audio booth and, like, attack him.”
“I’m not going to do that,” I say louder than I mean to.
“You totally should,” Bree says. “Maybe get him to realize how much he wants you.”
I bat her words away with my hand. “He’d never let it happen. He’s got his rules, or whatever. I wish I knew what that coworker did to him back in London.”
“Did you try Googling it?” Bree asks.
“No,” I say defensively, and then in the next breath, “Of course I did.”
“Did you find anything?” asks Holly.
“No. Whatever it was, it