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Authors: MK Schiller

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BOOK: The Other C-Word
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“Oh, I see. Well, that must be difficult for you.” He ran his hands through his hair. It’s funny how it all fell back in the same perfect pattern, like I’d instinctively known it would. I wondered if it did that when he got up in the morning. I sat up straighter, realising I was being precarious. I never crushed on guys like this. In fact, I made it a rule not to.

I didn’t have to respond to him because my phone started ringing again. The caller ID flashed that it was my mom…again.

“Are you going to answer it this time?” His question sounded more like a command, and I didn’t appreciate it.

“No!” I didn’t mean to shout, but I did.

“I really think you should, Marley. It’s the second time she’s called.”

“Do you answer the phone every time your mother calls, Rick?”

His expression shifted immediately and his voice became sombre. “I wish I could. My parents passed away ten years ago.”

Open mouth—insert one finely crafted Louboutin.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, but it might be important. You should answer it.”

Well, what else was there to do but answer it? I pushed the accept call button on my phone. “Hi, Mom,” I answered, trying to sound chipper, hoping to God she would not embarrass me.

“Hi, honey, did you make it to the airport?”

“Yeah, I’m headed back to the office now.”

“So, do you have the cheapskate with you?”
Oh Crap!

“Mom, you’re on speaker phone!”

“You should tell a person these things. Sorry, Mr Cheapskate.”
Oh no, she didn’t just say that…did she?
Every part of my body cringed simultaneously. Rick laughed though and it was an honest laugh, not uncomfortable or tense.

“No problem, Marley’s mom.”

“Mom, is there something you needed?”

“Oh, I just wanted to remind you about the fitting for the bridesmaid dresses. Stevie wanted to make sure you weren’t late.”

“I know. I’ll be there.” I couldn’t believe she’d called for this, as if Stevie hadn’t already told me ten times.

“Sorry, honey, you know how your sister is, especially when it comes to this wedding. Speaking of, do you have a date yet?”

“Mom, it’s like four months away!”

“Actually, it’s only three and a half. Don’t leave it for the last minute, Marley. Even Billie has a date already. Do you want me to have Adam set you up with one of his friends?”

“No! Look, Mom, I can’t discuss this with you right now. I have to go, okay?”

“Okay, honey, it was just a suggestion. I’ll see you tonight, and you’re in for a treat.”

“Why is that?” I regretted it as soon as I asked the question.

“Because it’s vegan meatballs tonight,” she replied happily. “Oh, and I found a recipe for vegan mousse too!”

I had no idea how one would go about making vegan meatballs…it sounded like a contradiction in terms.

“Okay, got to go. I love you.”

“I love you too, sweetheart.” Despite my embarrassment, I couldn’t hang up without telling my mom I loved her. She was the most special person in the world or at least to me.

Rick grinned, rather foolishly, at me. I tugged absently at my borrowed pink shell top realising it probably resembled the same colour as my flushed face.

“Are you a vegan?” His question surprised me, but put me at ease too.

“No, just my mom is. I like meat.”
What the hell am I doing? Did I just tell this very hot guy next to me that I like meat?
Rick further cemented my mortification by chuckling, but thankfully, he moved on.

“Your sister’s getting married?”

“Yes,” I answered gratefully. He was taking the high road and ignoring the whole cheapskate debacle.

“Her name’s Stevie?”

“Yes,” I wondered if I should share how crazy my family was. He seemed curious. “It’s for Stevie Nicks.”

He smiled, nodding. “It’s Monday morning and you sure look fine.”

Huh? Is he flirting again?
I cocked my head at him, trying to give him my intimidating gaze, which didn’t even falter his smile.

“Fleetwood Mac, right?” he asked.

“Oh yeah,” I replied, feigning nonchalance, realising he was quoting song lyrics. I thought it was ironic, since it was Monday morning and besides being a blundering mess, I felt I did look…fine.

“So, did your mom name your sister Stevie because she’s in love with Fleetwood Mac?”

I smiled because it was corny, but I loved the way my mom named us, although not everyone thought it was so cute. I might as well tell him

I’d most likely be out on my ass by the end of the week anyway and never see him again.

“My mom loves all types of music. She’s been to every kind of concert there is. It’s a part of our lives. I know people say that music is important to them all the time, but in my family, it’s more than entertainment. It’s a form of communication.” My mom often would play a song on the living room stereo to emphasise her advice or feelings—we all did. Sometimes, we couldn’t find the right words ourselves, so we used other people’s sentiments to fill the void, and why not? They were poets after all.

“She sounds like a character. Who’s Billie, your brother?”

I laughed because my eighteen-year-old sister Billie was the epitome of femininity with long blonde locks and bright blue eyes. “No, she’s my younger sister.”

“Let me guess, Billy Joel?”

“That’s what everyone thinks, but she’s actually named after Billie Joe.”

Rick looked at me quizzically.

“Billy Joe Armstrong, the lead singer of Green Day.
Dookie
came out the year Billie was born and my mom decided she was in love with him.”

“Ah, must be the guy liner thing.” It impressed me that Rick knew the band and could follow along with my mom’s crazy logic for naming us.

“Yeah, guess so.”

“And your name is Marley? So that’s for…”

“I’ll give you a hint. If I was a boy it would be Robert, Bob for short.”

“Bob Marley…very nice. Your mom’s very…eclectic in her tastes.” I couldn’t believe I’d divulged how crazy my family was in a few sentences. He most likely thought I smoked weed—I didn’t, but I decided not to voice it. It would probably make me sound worse. I mean that’s what someone who smoked weed would say, wasn’t it? Just great…I’d managed to reveal that I didn’t know the meaning of simple words like randy, I got lost, I talked to my mom all day long and I smoked weed, even though I didn’t. I should just fire myself at this point.

“She’s definitely one of a kind.”

It was funny, I never told people about my name. At least Rick didn’t seem judgemental.

“Do you want to know anything else about the company?”

“Why does your mom think I’m a cheapskate?”

Oh boy, he wasn’t taking the high road. I tightened my grip on the steering wheel, cringing noticeably.

“Did you think I was just going to let it go?”

“I was hoping you would.”

He patiently assessed me with his eyes, not yielding to my silent plea. He wanted an answer.

“It was an assumption on my part because you didn’t get a rental car. I’m sorry. It was wrong.” I hoped the apology sounded sincere, because I did feel terrible about calling him that, although my new nickname of ‘Dick’ was even worse.

Rick was quiet for a moment, contemplating my excuse. “It’s a fair assumption,” he replied.

“There are no fair assumptions. I hope I didn’t offend you.”

“There are fair assumptions. We all make them, but please allow me to disillusion you of it.”

“It’s okay, you don’t have to explain,” I replied sheepishly.

“I want to. There are two reasons I needed a ride. First, this was supposed to be a business meeting. Kathy Carver was going to fill me in on the company, but I think you’re an excellent substitute. I’ve very much enjoyed the conversation.”

Seriously—he was enjoying this? I was a hot, squirming, embarrassed, irritated mess, and he was enjoying talking to me? Although I had to admit, I was taking pleasure in looking at him and smelling him.

“Secondly, I live in
New York
and it’s prohibitive to have a car there.”

Oh great, he’s going to tell me he can’t drive, and I’m going to be stuck as his chauffeur. Well, at least I’ll have a job.

Rick smiled at me, continuing his explanation, “I love to drive, but I didn’t want to be limited with what they had at the airport. I’ve arranged to have a car delivered to the office for my use while I’m here. I’ll be working with you for the next four months, so I wanted to get something I’d like.”

We pulled up to the tall building where Henley Inc rented a large suite on the top floor. The conversation had gone by very fast, and I probably should have pointed out some of the
Chicago
sights on the way instead of jabbering his ear off about my crazy family.

“There’s my rental car.” Rick gestured to a black BMW. My jaw dropped. He was definitely not cheap.

“I guess I stand corrected.”

“Thanks for the ride, Marley. I hope I can return the favour.” He grinned mischievously, causing his green eyes to appear darker. A sudden heat rushed to my face. It was most likely a nonchalant, friendly comment, but in that moment, it sounded completely…
sexual
. It made me dislike him intensely. He’d been inappropriate to me, and somehow I’d divulged a ton of personal stuff he’d probably spread all around our gossipy office.

I pressed the button to open the trunk and remained seated inside the car. I expected him to retrieve his luggage while I regained my composure. He surprised me by coming around to my side and opening my door. He held his hand out to me. I took it hesitantly, but he tightened his grip and pulled me up gently. It made the heat on my face increase exponentially. Yep, he was a gentleman, but a dick too.

I stared at his ass as he walked away, checking to see if he had a wet spot as a result of my spilt coffee. Thankfully, he did not. However, I continued staring at him—oh my God, I was
leering
at his fine ass.
 

Chapter Two

We had a company-wide meeting shortly after I delivered Rick to Mr Henley’s office. I noticed Kathy was there. She wasn’t sick after all. I smirked when she did a double-take of Rick. Yep, she was regretting her decision to fake sick. Her sour expression towards me almost made the airport misunderstanding worth it.

The purpose of the meeting was to introduce Rick and dispel all the rumours that had been circulating about his role. Mr Henley explained that Rick’s goal was not to lose jobs, but rather retain them, and make headway in creating a decent profit margin. It sounded positive, but had an air of forced optimism, which was necessary to keep up the moral that had dipped to a dangerously low level.

Mr Henley smiled warmly at all of us and it was easy to see he cared about his workforce. Not only did he know all of us by name, but he also knew the names of his employee’s children and grandchildren too. I’d always liked the man, who was just a kid at heart. He was in his fifties, but had the air of a much younger man, with his salt and pepper hair, bright hazel eyes and muscular build. Mr Henley was an avid mountain climber and adrenaline junkie too. He’d started the company when he’d been only twenty, selling active sportswear out of his parents’ basement. We now employed sixty full-time staff, had a strong internet presence, and our clothes were in some major retail outlets—although prospects were grim for our future.

Mr Henley emphasised that Rick had a reputation for turning companies like ours around and to cement his words, he provided examples of Rick’s past endeavours. I had to admit they were impressive. Rick had worked for small companies like ours to major conglomerates. He’d even worked for a few foreign governments’ travel bureaus. Mr Henley expressed we should all do whatever was necessary in helping Rick achieve the goals outlined to make our company more efficient and profitable. Rick gave a small speech too. I noticed most of the women were holding onto his every word. He had this deep, but soft tempo in his voice that made him sound both compassionate and commanding at the same time.

I headed back to my desk, which was still outside my old boss’ office. My current work location was a deserted island where I was the only inhabitant. Ronald Bellman, my old boss, had a huge office. It even had one of those fake inside windows with blinds that added more light. My desk was right outside in what would constitute a reception area. An outer door separated me from my co-workers.

I was glad Mr Bellman was gone, since he’d been kind of a jerk and expected my job should include running his personal errands and calling his wife to make excuses when he’d wanted to go out with his girlfriend. I’d fetched his coffee and run his errands, but I’d drawn the line at calling his wife. Still, it was strange having no one else in my little cocoon of an office. It wasn’t that I talked to my co-workers that much, but the absence of people made me lonely.

At least I could listen to my radio. I scrolled through my iPod and settled on
Monday Morning
, by Fleetwood Mac. It seemed fitting.

My best friend Dillon McKay came through the outer office door, grinning wildly at me. He pulled a chair up to my desk. “You’re dressed up today.”

“Yeah, Stevie strikes again.”

Dillon nodded approvingly. If Stevie was a fashion plate, Dillon was a fashion platter. He was skinny and tall, but he always dressed well. He was wearing a Dolce and Gabbana style paisley shirt and hip-hugging, black dress pants. We were a casual office, but Dillon always looked crisp, in my opinion. I mean, not a lot of guys could pull off purple paisleys, but Dillon did.

“Ready for lunch?”

“Yeah, I just have to email this report,” I replied.

Dillon proceeded to re-arrange my office supplies while I checked my emails. Dillon was obsessive compulsive. The infliction didn’t completely rule his life as it did with some people, but he’d been much worse before he’d conceded to medication. These days, he mainly re-organised things. His own stuff was so perfect he had to concentrate on other people’s objects, which had resulted in his ostracism by many of our co-workers. Some people could be pretty picky about their stuff. I didn’t mind. I loved Dillon. We understood and accepted each other’s imperfections. We were more than just friends—Dillon was like a brother to me, and my family had practically adopted him. Last month, my mother had actually said to him, “I have three daughters and now with you I have everything I could ever want.”

Dillon had responded, grinning wildly. “What’s that? A son?”

“No…a gay son,” my mom had replied, hugging him. Dillon fitted into my non-traditional family perfectly, but his own parents had a hard time with his OCD and what they called his ‘life choices’.

“So, he’s pretty fucking hot, huh?” Leave it to Dillon to start right in. I knew he was referring to Rick…a subject he’d been angling to talk to me about since the morning meeting.

I shrugged. “He’s okay. He’s kind of arrogant.”

“Come on, Marley, you were alone in a car with him. Give me some good dish.”

I rolled my eyes. Dillon was practically panting as he wiped off some crumbs on the corner of my desk. “I know as much as you do. We just talked about the company. Mr Henley made him sound like Superman or something.” I didn’t think it would be right to reveal the few personal things I knew about Rick Randy…namely that his parents were deceased.

“I don’t know about Superman, but I bet he’s a boy wonder down under. You think he might be bi?”

“Okay, first I have no idea what kind of appendage he might be carrying. And second, I doubt he uses it on men.”

“Did you flirt with him? I mean, God, he’s gorgeous.”

“No, but he kind of flirted with me, I think.”

“Oh, now that’s dish. How can you be so blasé? Don’t you think he’s hot? Come on, Marley, he looks like Chris Pine, and I know you crush on Chris Pine just like I do.”

I thought about this for a second and had to agree with Dillon. Rick did have a similar resemblance to the hottie that played Captain Kirk. “I didn’t notice. I just think of him as the dick that’s going to fire my ass,” I said giggling.

Dillon giggled with me. “Is that what we’re calling him? Rick the dick? Or how about just…big dick?” I shot him a cynical glance, but Dillon’s chocolate brown eyes just gleamed. “Come on, Marley, you can’t even admit he’s hot?”

“Okay, he’s hot. He’s that guy who’s hot and knows it.”

“Yeah, well he’d have to be mentally impaired or have an aversion to mirrors not to know it. He’s not just hot, he’s like hot sex on legs.”


Dillon
!” I chided, but he just laughed.

“I mean, sure he’s going to fire all our asses, but you have to admit it. Even his name exudes sexuality…Richard Randy.” Dillon had this faraway look in his eyes he got when he talked about hot guys. I felt bad that as his best friend I could only reply by making a gagging noise.

“I guess.” I bit down on my pencil, a telltale habit that I was thinking very hard. Dillon cocked a well-groomed eyebrow at me. “Dillon, do you know the meaning of randy?”

He smirked. “Of course, I do. That’s why I said that about his name. What, you don’t?”

I hesitantly relayed the airport debacle to Dillon. Then I stared, incensed, as Dillon proceeded to howl with laughter, putting even the TSA agent’s chortles to shame. I had to tell him to be quiet several times, so people didn’t think I was in a closed-off office, tickling him to death.

“Oh, that’s precious, Marley,” he said, wiping a tear from his eye. Was it really that funny?

My office phone rang, interrupting Dillon’s rambunctious antics, and I was thankful for the break. The temporary relief was short-lived when Kathy Carver—in a brusque and miraculously cough-free voice—requested my presence in Mr Henley’s office. Dillon sensed the shift in my expression and smiled sympathetically at me.

“I got the call. I guess they decided not to wait for payday.” I tried to keep the smile pasted on my face for Dillon’s sake.

“I’m sorry, kid.”

I didn’t know why Dillon called me ‘kid’ when we were close to the same age, but I’d always liked it. “It’s okay, at least I’m prepared.” I kicked the cardboard box below my desk that contained all my personal effects. I’d packed it the day Mr Bellman had left.

“Don’t worry, I’ll probably be following you in a few days myself. We can work the breadlines together.”

I stood up and clasped his hands, realising that this might be the last time I talked to him at work. “Dillon, please, please, remember to take your pills at lunch. You know you can’t take them at night. Promise me.” I always made sure he took them, because I had seen him when he didn’t. The cleaning crew had threatened to quit because he’d followed behind them, pointing out spots of dust they’d missed. Although some people said it was cute, Dillon did have a disorder, and I knew he became antsy and nervous without his medication. One time, he’d re-arranged every drawer in his house for ten hours straight until he’d started crying.

“I promise, Marley.”

I brightened my smile not wanting either of us to start crying. “Gotta go, have to get fired now…or I guess, you would say…laid off.”

“Yeah, not as good as getting laid on,” Dillon replied, faking his own smile. “I’ll come over tonight, and we’ll dish it out okay?”

I nodded, blowing him a kiss.

I walked to Mr Henley’s office, which had an outer and inner office similar to Mr Bellman’s, but was larger. Kathy greeted me with a disdaining smile as her eyes travelled up and down my outfit, in what I assumed was an attempt to make me cower. It only made me stand up straighter. Kathy was one of those women who didn’t like other women. She was the kind of girl who couldn’t spare an occasional compliment or good-will gesture to another girl, but was extremely gracious towards the opposite sex. She was a beautiful woman with a dancer’s body, ebony hair, crystal blues eyes and flawless skin. Despite that, I’d always felt her insides were somewhat ugly. Kathy played up her looks with short skirts and tight tops. She was the kind of woman who would have a salaciously witty comeback when someone like Rick Randy noticed her garter belt. She fell into her gorgeousness gracefully, while I stumbled clumsily into the territory of passably pretty.

“You’re dressed up,” she announced, as if I didn’t know this.

I nodded absentmindedly. “I felt like dressing up.”

“Or did you want to make a good impression…on Rick?” She gestured towards Mr Henley’s office window where Rick was sitting in a chair speaking to Mr Henley. My insides automatically clenched.

I didn’t want to be fired in front of him. I’d accepted the idea of being laid off. I knew it wasn’t because I was a bad employee—I did my job well, and Mr Henley liked me. I was just in the wrong position at the wrong time. I understood that it only made sense that I should be the initial sacrifice in a long line of layoffs.

All of my self-assurances about this moment were lost when I realised Rick would be a witness to my departure. I wanted a private moment to thank Mr Henley for all he had done and let him know I believed in the company. I sincerely hoped that Henley Inc would still survive. More than survive…thrive. It would prove difficult to vocalise my feelings in front of ‘Rick the Dick’.

“I dressed up for myself Kathy, not that it matters,” I retorted, smoothing out my skirt.

“You’re right. I doubt he had time to notice. I mean, you were running so late.”

It was difficult not to smile smugly because Rick, in fact, had noticed my outfit, but there was no point in letting Kathy know that.

“I’m glad you’re feeling better, Kathy. Those two-hour flu’s can be a real downer,” I said as I opened the office door.

“We’ll miss you, Marley,” Kathy said in a cheery tone that completely contradicted her statement. Everyone knew I was going to be canned and with good reason. I was the girl plied with busywork, who lived in the secluded island office by herself. The office gossip factory was hard at work as usual.

Mr Henley stood up from his desk, smiling brightly at me when I entered. It was a warm smile, which I returned in kind, despite my dread. “Marley, please sit.” He gestured to the empty seat next to Rick, who had also stood. I felt a new wave of nausea, wondering if Rick had shared my airport abduction story with Mr Henley. I couldn’t handle any more ridicule today.

BOOK: The Other C-Word
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