Chapter Eleven

THERE WAS NOT one, but three emails from George when I returned to my desk. I read their titles, grimacing.

Rescheduling our one-on-one.

Re: Rescheduling our one-on-one.

Did you go home sick today?

“Fuck.” The bodies of the emails were about what I had gleaned from the titles. George had seen my email from this morning and had finally decided to respond to my request to move up our one-on-one at the same time. So, he was trying to figure out what had happened to me.

Well. Time to say…something about how work had been going lately. I stood from my desk and made the trek down to his office. As I passed the aisle Chelsea worked down, she looked over, her face lighting up as she’d probably assumed I’d come to talk. I gestured ahead of me, and she raised an eyebrow before recognition hit with a grimace.

After a deep breath outside his door, I knocked, and George called, “Come in!” So in I went.

The senior manager of the project management and sales coordination teams was one of the privileged few who had windows in his office. Yet, what did he do? Kept the blinds down. That had to be criminal.

George took his time finishing an email, which left me standing in the middle of his office, my hands clasped in front of me and my resolve quickly deteriorating. There was no way he’d really mind that I’d stepped out for lunch, right? We just needed to clear that up, and then we could get to business.

“Okay, Annabel. I assume you got my emails?” As he spoke, George turned to me and braided his fingers under his chin. In the dimmer light of his office, his dark gray suit and textured gray tie both looked black.

“Yes. I had lunch off campus today. Bad timing.”

He nodded, staring at the general vicinity of my feet. “I see, I see. How nice.”

After a moment’s pause, I hesitantly spoke up. “Can we have our one-on-one now? You didn’t mention in the emails what time you wanted to reschedule it to.” Ugh, why did I have to get so nervous talking to old Georgie?

“Ah, let me recheck my schedule.” He swirled his chair around, and I glanced over his shoulder at the Outlook calendar covered in monochrome squares. Why he didn’t color code things…I had no idea. “Will ten minutes suffice?”

I hesitated. “Hopefully.”

George’s frown deepened in long channels down his face and across his jaw. “Is there a problem?”

“Well, surely you’ve noticed how much time I’ve been putting in lately,” I started, trying to keep my voice even. “The audit is a lot more work than I think any of us anticipated.”

George’s expression re-flattened. “Elaborate, if you can.”

So I did, summarizing my problems and the way I had figured out solutions as concisely as I could.

He nodded. “That’s the sort of resourcefulness I can depend on you for, Annabel.”

When Rachael said my name, it was a bright, colorful light. When my boss said my name, it was dark, clinical steel. It sounded belittling. Made me feel gross.

“Thank you,” I managed over the shudder in my shoulders. “But it’s been so much work that I have fallen behind on my other projects. Several hours of overtime a week haven’t been enough to stay caught up.”

“That would explain the less-than-glowing review you got from Raltz.”

My eyes went wide. “I didn’t hear about that.”

“No, I was going to discuss it with you at our next meeting.”

“The audit has been too much work,” I repeated. “My workload should have been adjusted to accommodate it.”

George nodded slowly. “This has been a lesson learned for next time. How much longer will the audit take?”

Next time. For fuck’s sake. I held out my hands, hoping they weren’t shaking. “Maybe two more weeks.”

“And can you go over everything you’ve done with David?”

I blinked. “Yes? Will he be doing this with his other clients? Or is this about the site visit?”

George re-braided his fingers in his lap. “Part of his lead position will be to give the presentation to MagiCorp when they’re here.”

Confirmation. I took a breath, willing my nerves to stay calm. On the one hand, I was really glad I wouldn’t have to give the presentation; I’d only have to finish compiling all the data. But the real question floating around my head now was how much would David be benefitting from the work I had done?

“I’ll be happy to summarize everything for him. And I hope my hard work will be well received,” I said, choosing my words carefully.

George straightened in his seat and stared at me for a few agonizing seconds. “Of course, but perhaps we shouldn’t get ahead of ourselves?”

I chewed on my tongue and strained to keep my face calm. “Understood.”

George tapped fingertips on his armrest. “Was there a special occasion for your lunch today?”

My eyes went wide. “Just enjoying the lovely weather. And walking my dog so I can stay late tonight.”

“Ah, good. You’ll definitely have to reward yourself similarly when the audit is done.”

At least he had been semiwilling to accept my reason for being out of the office. I flexed my fingers, hoping to relieve some of the stress that was building in my muscles. “When the audit is done, we should meet again and go over milestones.”

Oh my god, I said it.

“Your end-of-year review will be in a few months,” he said.

I almost deflated, but fought to hold on to this thin thread of confidence. “Yes. But upon completing this audit, I think I will be in a good position to reevaluate my career path.”

George gave what could have been a nod of agreement, then swiveled his chair back around to his computer, clicking through his Outlook briefly. “Let’s talk about milestones the last week of October. How does that sound?”

A whole four weeks. It wasn’t much, but it was something. “That will be fine.”

I left George’s office trying to feel accomplished and proud of myself, but the feelings weren’t there. George was treating me like a child while simultaneously expecting far too much from me. He hadn’t believed me when I’d told him my workload was unreasonable, and that alone left me sitting at my desk, scanning my Outlook flags and wondering what the point was in trying.

No more girlfriend, under-respected at my job. Some life I had built for myself, huh?

 

I ARRIVED AT work the next morning with coffee in hand, makeup applied, and hair done. Just like I always did, just like I expected of myself. But, god, I was so not feeling it.

All of the bitterness from my meeting with George still lingered around me like a dark cloud, fogging my thoughts. An hour passed with my only accomplishment being categorizing early morning emails from East Coast clients so they were ready for response—if I could summon the motivation.

“Good morning, Ann!” Chelsea said happily, returning from the break room with fresh coffee in hand. I smiled and twiddled my fingers, and luckily, she continued on.

Maybe the audit would hold my attention better. I brought up my spreadsheets, and the now-familiar columns and rows lay before me like a secret language I alone knew how to decode. I got swept up in it and lost track of time as I transferred totals and crosschecked invoices.

Until I realized with a start that someone was standing at my cube.

George was looking down at me. “Have a minute, Annabel?”

“Uh, yes.”

I followed him down the hall to his office, my heart hammering, my mind racing through reasons why he would want to talk to me again. Has another client complained? Is something wrong with the audit?

“Go ahead and close the door behind you,” he said as we crossed into his office. I did so, with the heat of whatever possible embarrassment was to come already spreading up my neck and cheeks.

“I owe you an apology,” he said, and I stood there and stared and didn’t even dare to blink.

“You…what?”

“You’ve logged more hours than any other employee on your team for the past six weeks. I had thought you were working for the promotion, but after talking to you yesterday, I see that wasn’t the whole story.”

Is this real? Am I in bed dreaming of a better job right now? I opened and shut my mouth.

George held out his hands in what might have been an apologetic shrug. “Can I get one of the interns to help you until your audit is done?”

“Uh, yeah,” I said, still trying to pick my metaphorical jaw up off the floor. “Thank you. That will actually be extremely helpful. I’ll be able to focus on all the final details of the audit.”

“Have you liked doing the audit?” he asked, a thoughtful air to his tone that sounded so strange because I’d never heard him use it before. I nodded slowly.

“Yes, I think I’m really good at the numbers.”

“It might interest you to know that Jared in billing has posted a position that would be exclusively doing client audits.”

My eyebrows shot up. That interested me quite a lot.

“I encourage you to apply,” George continued. “I’ll put in a good word for you.”

“I would love… Yes, I’ll check it out.”

And then, George smiled, and it made him look like a normal older man, maybe about my dad’s age, rather than the foreboding man-in-black.

“Thank you,” I said again, and I was ready to go, but an idea came to mind. This could be a chance for me to make a difference.

“Oh, and one other thing.”

George tilted his head, almost like he was about to tell me my time was up, but he didn’t speak.

“Chelsea’s been doing a great job working with her international client. I wanted you to know.”

George nodded. “That is very good to hear. Thank you, Annabel.”

I got out of there as soon as he swiveled away and sighed with relief when I was out of earshot. That had been the strangest, most rewarding conversation I had ever had with my boss. And it was because I’d actually stood up to him yesterday? And made my grievances known? I still couldn’t believe it. He had not only listened but gave me an opportunity for something more.

It struck me as I settled back at my seat and thought of Rachael’s soft face and warm smile, that I might not have had the gall to say any of what I had yesterday if not for her adoration and joy over the last couple months. Despite everything she had going on in her life, she’d still given me a boost of confidence—that I was wonderful and worthy.

And she really needed to hear that she was too.

It took me way too long to compose, but I cared about her enough to overcome the anxiety that had been gripping me so often lately and take the time to say what I felt needed to be said. Even if it’d be the last emotional exchange we’d have.

Ann: Rachael, these past several weeks with you have been exhilarating and full of so much joy. Although I haven’t been a mom, dividing my heart as much as you have, I understand when you say you haven’t had enough time for yourself. I have been putting in 50-hour weeks and keeping up with Franny, so I know, at least in part, what it’s like to get into bed at the end of the day exhausted and feeling unfulfilled.

But I’ve also seen the passion you have within you—both the love for your son and your family and the moments we’ve shared. I’ve treasured every one of those moments together. What you’ve given me is more than I ever could have imagined.

I want the opportunity to give that adoration and support back to you. Because you’re worth it. I want to see you happy. I want to see your family happy. It would be worth every kid fever and busy night we experience together.

Rachael, if you’re able and willing to find time in your busy schedule to spend time with me, I want to see where our relationship can go. The ball is in your court. If I put the right spin on this mega-net, will I catch ya?

I hit Send. Blushing, and utterly overwhelmed with everything I had typed, I put my phone down and looked up the application for the sales audit position George had mentioned. Even if nothing came of my text to her, I’d said my piece, which brought a much-needed feeling of calm. And I had this job opportunity to pursue, and I hadn’t had that sort of hope in a long time.

 

MY EVENING WALK with Franny felt particularly reserved, both in her temperament—obeying me and staying close—and in the coolness of the evening breeze, a welcome break from the late summer heat but sobering nonetheless.

Maybe because it was just the two of us again.

I took my time, calling up my mom and regaling her with the woes of my projects and the audit. Then she gossiped about her book club’s most recent controversy, which was some members’ reluctance to read a gay memoir, and how she had championed it wholeheartedly.

“It’s good for people to read about experiences outside their own,” she said jovially.

“I agree,” I replied, navigating Franny around a lamppost so her leash wouldn’t get tangled. “But this is a group of older white women you’re talking about.”

“That’s not true, is it? Oh dear, it is. But I expect them to try harder!”

“You go for it, Momma.”

“I reminded them that my beautiful daughter is a lesbian and how proud I am of you for following your heart.”

“God, Mom,” I muttered, my cheeks extra hot with the cool breeze grazing them.

“Speaking of, tell me more about the lovely lady you’re seeing.”

And I should have known she was going to go there, but it still felt like a vise squeezing my heart. “Ah, I don’t think I’ll be seeing her anymore, unfortunately.”

“Oh, honey. Sometimes flings can be short. Reminds me of the time…”

I had heard the story of her motorcycle-riding boyfriend in the seventies before, but I listened again and hummed and laughed at the right places, appreciative of her support regardless.

At that point, Franny and I had completed another loop around the apartment complex, and we wove past buildings on the way home, excited to curl up on the couch—at least, that’s what I was excited about.

“Those were different times,” Mom finished. “Don’t worry. There’s plenty of lady fish in the sea.”

“I know, Mom. I’ll be fine.”

I watched the zigzagging pattern of the cement walkway as we approached the stairs up to home, and Franny leapt forward with a yip, pulling at the leash. I looked up with a start and followed her gaze up the stairs.

There, sitting at the top, were Rachael and Connor, and in Connor’s arms was a bouquet of orange roses.

The color of mega-nets in Ani-min.

I gasped and let Franny go. She bounded up the stairs and careened into Connor, who giggled and sputtered as she licked his face. Rachael saved the roses from destruction, her smile small but bright. I was still frozen at the bottom of the stairs.

“Annie, honey, are you okay?” Mom called through the phone.

“Oh, goodness. Yes. Turns out I may have caught one of those lady fish after all.”

“That’s my daughter. You go reel her in.”

But it was Rachael who reeled me in, as I stepped up the stairs with what was probably a wide-eyed, lovestruck expression.

“You’re here,” I said matter-of-factly.

“Critical catch?” she said with a smile, and I laughed, opening my arms, inviting her to me. She was one step up from me and glommed on to me tightly, my head in the crook of her neck, the sweet smell of her enveloping me in a comforting but eager joy.

“I’ve been miserable since I pushed you away,” Rachael whispered into my hair, and I tilted my head up to meet her gaze as she continued. “Your message was like a wake-up call. I can be miserable all the time, or I can try to figure this out and grab those moments of happiness.”

All I could do was nod, and she leaned down and kissed me, soft and light. Beside us, Connor was cooing into Franny’s fur as she nuzzled his chest, the typical “Who’s a good doggie?” mantra that made me smile.

“What moment of happiness shall we grab first?” I asked, and Rachael raised an eyebrow at me, the motion giving her a deliciously devious air.

“So, there’s this movie Connor’s been dying to see.”

Connor leapt to his feet. “Super-bots! Super-bots! Let’s go!”

I laughed. “That’s a kid’s movie.”

Rachael nodded. “Wanna go with us?”

I gave her a big smile, hardly able to imagine the pandemonium of a theater full of children, but confident we’d still be able to enjoy some time snuggled in the seats. “You bet.”