When I walk into my office, I feel like Dolly Parton in that old movie, 9 to 5. The admins are glaring at me, like they know I had dinner, and who knows what else, with the boss. Maybe it’s just my own guilt after talking to Seth. You know, the explosive inner turmoil of The Telltale Heart? Details from last night’s bad decisions are polluting my mind. I shouldn’t have gone to dinner with Hans. I could have been with Seth. Instead, Seth was on the phone with Arin. In fact, I practically handed him over with a big, red bow. Besides, I lied toHans . . .
As I reach my office I lift up my chin. “Any messages?” I ask Tracy, my new admin.
“Nope. Nothing.” Tracy is the office honeybee. She spends her mornings gathering the nectar of gossip, and in the afternoon she spreads her pollen with glee. She’s one of those women who is married but doesn’t look married. She wears a ring: a great big tacky thing, but also has huge implants and wild, permed hair. Glossy scarlet will forever be her lipstick color, and flirting her native tongue.
Tracy’s the type of married woman who goes to nightclubs without her husband and dances into the wee hours. While I try to understand her, I really don’t. She’s very sweet, but she only reminds me of my own failings. It’s amazing that her husband is willing to put up with that behavior, but Seth is too afraid to put a ring on my finger. Tracy’s presence is like a daily slap in the face, reminding me that I have no idea what a man wants.
“Hans has a big patent in the works, so I’m going to need you to help me pull some files this afternoon.”
Tracy salutes at me, and sits down at her desk to a hefty chocolate muffin. The disparity in Tracy’s small stature and the size of that muffin reminds me yet again that life isn’t fair, and that Arin-style sprightly figures are all you ever see on reality television. Where, I ask you, is the reality in that?
When I get into my office, I pull up my e-mail, intent on not allowing my social life to dip into the success of my workplace. I need some coffee.
There’s an e-mail from Hans, and I cringe at the sight of it. He probably changed everything about the patent after I did the work. Opening the message I forget to breathe.
To: AStockingdale@gainnet.com
From: HanstheMan@gainnet.com
Re: Last Night
Ashley, just wanted to thank you for our quiet dinner last night. I think we accomplished a lot. I still have your discarded clothing. Will bring with me. See you at work. H—
Oh man, I’m in trouble. I’m in big trouble. I can’t go to dinner at this man’s house on Saturday. With or without Seth, Hans thinks there’s something between us. At least I think he does.
Who knows with a man like him? Hans emanates sensuality like a liquor commercial, so much implied, but nothing really said. I’m too clueless for this type of subtle communication. I need an engineer. Someone to just come out and say, “Look, I’m trying to seduce you.” Which, of course, an engineer never would say. And I like that feature. Being romanced with a little science fiction, or an hour of Game Cube, this is my world. I’m comfortable here.
“Ashley.”
“Ah!” I clutch my startled chest. “What did you want, Tracy?”
“Hans wants you in his office.”
I’ll bet he does. “Okay, thank you.”
Tracy comes in and shuts the door behind her. “Is he . . . you know . . . as sexy as he seems? The girls and I have a little pool going on.”
Clearly, my church girl reputation has not followed me to this job. “Hans lives with a woman. If you’re really interested, you should ask her, though I don’t know why you would be.” I laugh lightly. I don’t want her to think I’m judging her. Even if I am a little. “I’m actually engaged to be married to an engineer.” Ack. There it is again. Look how easily I’m suddenly lying. They say it’s hardest the first time. Soon, I’ll be telling them I’m a former Miss USA and only working for the enjoyment factor since I’m independently wealthy. I should also add that I’m a poet, which Brea will vehemently deny.
“Hans is the kind of man,” Tracy wiggles her badly-in-need-of-a-pluck eyebrows, “who’s too good to say no to.” She comes closer. “Where’s your ring?”
I pull my hand under the desk. “It’s getting fitted. It’s a recent engagement.” Oh, I so hate myself right now. This is bad reality television at its finest, and I’m the scheming, low-down girl you root against. I don’t know how I ever thought I’d get away with that whopper in the first place.
“We were all just talking about how we’d say yes to Hans in a minute. He only goes for you educated types, though.” Tracy crinkles her nose. “To each his own, I guess. Plus, we gals think you have more of a German facial structure, so maybe he finds that attractive.”
“A German facial structure?” I’m thinking this isn’t necessarily a compliment.
“You know, not ugly or anything, but just . . .” She holds her fists out in front of her. “You know, squarer. Solid.” Tracy obviously sees my dismay. “Not that that’s a bad thing. I mean, it’s sexy to a lot of guys.”
“Can you get these patents filed for me?” I hand Tracy a bundle of folders. “Cross reference them by their product name and their category, which is on the side of the folders.” That ought to keep you out of trouble for a while. I pick up the patent I worked all night on. “I’ll be in Hands’s, I mean Hans’s, office if you need anything.”
I make my way across the office floor, and I can feel that all eyes are on me. It’s like my skirt is in my pantyhose. It’s an ominous moment for me, because I’m never thought to be “that” kind of a girl. I’m a thirty-one-year-old virgin, for crying out loud. The fact that I’m being seen as seductress would be comical if it wasn’t so eerily creepy. I knock on Hans’s door, and he opens it, lifting his wheat-colored eye-brows at the sight of me.
“Ashley,” he oozes. “Here’s your coat.” I turn around and see the admins huddled in a knowing circle. “You girls get to work!” Hans yells, and they scatter like cockroaches in the light.
You know, I have a theory, and why I was too desperate to notice it here before I took this job is beyond me at the moment. When a company hires half-dressed secretaries, it’s usually a good sign that the CEO has issues. A “normal” CEO doesn’t allow his company to give off that kind of a message, which really says, our company can be bought for a price, so name it. Sweeping my gaze across the room, I realize that Gainnet’s image reminds me of bad politicians vying for the gaming lobby: guilty and sleazy.
“Thanks for my coat.” I look Hans dead in the eye, hoping to tell him that I’m not afraid and that I’m not available. But inside I’m just praying, Help me, Lord. Help me, Lord. I’m in way over my head. All the while I suspect my lies are probably keeping me from any divine protection that might have been otherwise available.
“Don’t rush off now. I want to talk to you about the patent. What I’ve seen so far, just last night, is genius. I know you started here as a simple patent attorney, but it’s clear you’re general counsel material, and I don’t want to let another company figure that out first.”
I let my guard down a bit and sit in the proffered chair in Hans’s office. “Yes, I was offered the position of general counsel before I left Selectech. I didn’t take the job for personal reasons.”
“We haven’t had a general counsel here at Gainnet, but with our revenue growing by such leaps and bounds, I think it’s time we brought counsel in-house. Would you be interested in the job if the board approved such a position?”
I can feel the blood rising in my cheeks. “Absolutely!” By now my face is hot and red. “I’m just about to purchase half my room-mate’s house, and the title would help immensely on my loan apps.”
“It’s more than a title I’m offering. It’s an increase in your stock options, which would also help financially.” He pauses for a moment. “Did you say you’re purchasing half your fiancé’s house?”
“Not my fiancé, my roommate.” Okay, major blunder. Lying seems so easy on TV. They don’t show all the other lies that have to accompany the first one.
“But I thought you were getting married.”
“Well, I am, but just not presently.”
“Are you going to have kids?” Yes, this is an illegal question, but Hans cares little for American proprieties.
“We’re not sure yet about children. We’re still working out the details of the wedding.” Like, whether we’re actually having one.
“These are things you have to think about as a woman with a career. Plot your course, as they say.”
“Right.” I’m like a Pavlovian dog at the moment, salivating over a job that hasn’t even been created yet. Kay is right. No job is worth my self-respect. Do I have any of that left? “I’d like to have a bushel of kids,” I suddenly blurt.
“Really?” Hans clasps his hands together on his desk. “I have four of them. Lot of work and money, those kids.”
“You have four? I thought you only had two.”
“Here in America, I only have two. They’re from my marriage, but I was young once.” He winks. “I have two that were born when I lived in France as a bachelor. I never see those kids, but they cost me a bundle.” He whistles. “They’re getting ready for college.” He chuckles here, and I can’t even force a smile. Ewww, is all I can think. He has kids as old as Sophia the nanny.
“Well, back to work,” I say brightly. “I’d be happy to talk to you about the general counsel job when you have more time.”
“I’ll be in touch with the board.” Hans stands up, and when I exit, the admins are huddled together again, like a high-school foot-ball team.
“Ahem,” I say and they go back to pretending they’re working. I have a major headache.
I clamber with the phone, struggling to punch in Brea’s numbers, but I keep missing them. On the third try, I get her. “Hi, Ash, what’s up?”
“I so need a friend. I have no friends here, Brea. They all think I’m the office . . . you know . . . but they are the ones dressed up like off-duty strippers. I’m so out of my element. I feel like I should wear a chastity belt at this job.”
“You’ve just made a big change, Ashley. You’re like the Israelites who remember the good things of Egypt instead of the slavery. Miles,” Brea coos. “Say hello to Auntie Ashley. Auntie is having a bad day. Give her kisses.” I hear the baby gurgling in the phone, and I just start to laugh. Brea can always make me laugh. Pretty soon, the gurgling turns into a healthy smacking sound. “No, no. Don’t eat the phone, Miles. Icky. Dirty. Hello,” she says to me.
“He’s a doll. Can I have him yet? He’s the only man I know worth having.”
“No, he still remembers that you wanted a girl. He’ll never for-give you for that.”
“Story of my life.”
“I have something to cheer you up, but you have to promise not to root me out,” Brea says.
“Would I ever do that?”
“Seth invited us over on Friday night to share in a ‘surprise’ for you.”
“No way!”
“Yep. He said he’s been planning this for weeks now, and wants it to be perfect.”
“This is after Arin came home?”
“Just this morning.”
I scream into the phone. “Finally. Finally, something in my life is going right.”
“I knew you’d have a cow if you came home with sloshy, day-old makeup, so I made up my mind to tell you, but you can’t tell John. He’ll call me a gossip.”
“You are a gossip!”
“Shh. Only with you. Otherwise, I’m the perfect, Proverbs 31 woman. Miles thinks so, and that’s all that matters to this mama. But I’d have a connip if John was coming to ask me to marry him and inviting people over, and I looked like I’d been at work all day. Shoot me now.”
“Um, yeah.” I lower my voice into the phone. “Any idea what the ring looks like?”
“He wouldn’t tell me a thing, Ash. And believe me, I tried. I called John right away to tell him.”
“Why didn’t you call me? You traitor.”
“Because for a few minutes I thought I could keep it from you. I thought I could rise above my personal anguish and keep a secret from my best friend. But I was wrong. As soon as I heard your voice, I knew I’d blurt it out.”
“Thank goodness!”
“Listen, I gotta run. It seems Miles has been using this time productively, and the aroma is overwhelming me. Don’t let that boss of yours get to you. Remember, you are a star patent attorney, and nothing he implies means anything, and the gals are just talking about what they know from experience. You’ll be Seth’s wife soon and won’t have to worry about this, anyway.”
Seth’s wife. I’ll be Seth’s wife soon. “See ya.” I hang up the phone and type on my to-do list.
THINGS TO DO BEFORE BECOMING A FIANCÉE
1. Tell Kay no on the house.
2. Get my nails done!
3. Practice enthusiastic facial expressions in the mirror.
4. Wax & shape eyebrows for a thoroughly surprised arch.
5. Invest in lingerie for wedding night. I’m having a wedding night!
6. Buy my own high-quality game controller to let Seth know I care about his needs too.
7. Make an appt for seaweed wrap, must have baby bum skin.
8. Practice hand gestures that will show off sparkling diamond!