Текст книги "Animate Me"
Автор книги: Ruth Clampett
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Animate Me / Chapter Five / Closed for Business
“Any more at home like you?” ~Lois Lane “Uh no, not really.” ~ Supermaniv
The minute her perfect lips touch mine the room goes black, but not in a good way. I gasp and my body seizes into one rigid mess. I’m an awkward statue, a frozen failure.
Her tender hand wraps around my neck, and her lips soften and coax mine, but the ship has sailed. The weight of every horrible kiss from my past slams into me, and the little sign in the window sadly flips forward, closed for business.
She presses on one more time, a hint of desperation and refusal to accept failure. This only makes things worse, and I pull away from her and raise my hands to cover my face. No, no, no.
I must have actually said the words because I instantly hear her shift in voice and tenor. “It’s okay, Nathan, it’s okay. Please don’t freak out.”
I blindly reach out for the doorknob to make my escape. I twist and pull, but she sees what I’m doing and she pushes back.
“No,” she insists.
“Please, please…just let me leave. I’m so embarrassed. Please…” I moan.
“No,” she says with more conviction. “This is my fault. I pushed it, and I want to fix it.”
I open my eyes wide, and frustration washes over me. “You can’t fix me. I’m just messed up. Something’s wrong with me, and I’m just not meant to be like this with anyone normal.” My chest is heaving, and I can’t look at her. My eyes are focused on the door leading into the hallway.
“Please,” she begs, and I hear the tears in her voice before I finally look at her and see them trailing down her cheeks. I take off my glasses, and rub my eyes.
“Brooke, please don’t cry.” I feel even worse, if that’s possible.
“Will you just sit with me for a minute please?” she asks, gesturing towards the couch.
I nod and follow her over, and as I sit back down she turns off the TV and puts her iPod in the dock. The Cure comes on in their dreamy atmospheric splendor. Oh great, emo music, I think shuddering. A minute later Brooke hands me a small glass with clear liquid.
“What’s this?” I ask.
“A shot of vodka, drink it please. It’ll help relax you.”
I knock it back without a thought. She has me now, even if I’m worthless. I would probably do anything she asks. I look up and imagine I can see the wheels turning in her head. Like Geppetto from Pinocchio, she’s trying to figure out how to fix her broken toy.
She crawls onto the couch and curls up next to me, taking my hand and gently rubbing it. Just when I figure she’s given up, she speaks.
“Where is your favorite place to relax?”
Huh? She’s pitching out of the left field. I’m confused, but I still want to please her. I think for a moment.
“Well, probably my hammock in my backyard. I like to lie in that and think of story ideas while I sway in the breeze.”
“That’s good. Is it under a tree?”
“Yes, it’s in the shade, so it stays cool.”
“Good, okay.” She scoots over even closer to me, practically sitting in my lap. What the hell? Could this night get any stranger?
She runs her fingers through my hair, and then starts rubbing my shoulders. “Close your eyes, Nathan. I want you to imagine that you are lying in your hammock, in the dappled light on a warm summer day.”
Her voice is soothing and soft, much prettier than Wayne Dyer’s. My head falls back on the cushions as her fingers move back up into my hair, and start massaging my scalp. No one has ever done this for me. It feels so good that I start to moan softly.
“Isn’t it wonderful in your hammock?” she asks.
“Yes,” I moan. Keep rubbing Brooke.
She works over me for a long time. I am vaguely aware of one Cure song shifting to another, and the burn of the vodka spreading through my veins. I’m so relaxed that I’m somewhere between sleep and the waking world.
When she senses how far gone I am, she starts up again. “Now I want you to imagine that Dani is curled up next to you,” she says softly.
My stomach lurches, but I quickly remind myself to replace that image with Brooke, and I relax again. Her magic fingers are unraveling me. One hand moves back to my shoulder, and the other lightly strokes my neck, and then skims across my cheek. “You pull Dani closer as the breeze blows over you. She gently touches you, and with each stroke you relax further.”
I take a deep breath as I feel Brooke’s soft hands move over my chest. I feel my body relaxing, sinking into the couch.
“Now imagine her lips kissing your face gently.” I feel Brooke’s lips on my forehead as her hands weave through my hair. I’m not sure if I’ve ever felt this great. Every touch stirs and soothes me. She is a witch of unspeakable potions and spells, transforming me under her magic hands.
“Brooke,” I moan.
“Dani,” she corrects with a whisper.
Her lips brush across my cheek, and over my closed eyelids. I reach out and rest my hand on her hip.
It doesn’t fully hit me that she’s kissing me until my lips have already molded to hers in the most natural way. Her fingers work across my scalp as her tongue eases in, and suddenly my mouth understands the language it was meant to speak.
This is completely different in the best way, and we move together like the most graceful dancers. The push and pull, the building of passion, I am Gene Kelly to her Cyd Charisse. She makes me feel like I’m leading this dance even though I’m not. For these precious moments I am passion and romance, debonair and suave. I am the man I was supposed to be, and it’s so great.
My fingers sink into the flesh of her hip as I pull her closer once last time before we part. “Oh, my,” I moan, looking up at her.
“See, Nathan. I knew it was there all along, you just needed to quit thinking so much.”
“I just needed you,” I say unguardedly.
“Well, I’m glad I could help. You had me worried for a minute.” She runs her hand across my head and I see the warmth in her eyes. She does care about me. Maybe not in the way I want her to, but maybe more than I realize.
She eases off my lap until she’s sitting next to me on the couch. “But just for the record, you’re an amazing kisser. I forgot I was Dani for a moment.”
“Really?” I ask, trying to hide my happiness. “I kinda forgot you were Dani too.” I admit.
She looks at me but doesn’t say anything, as if she’s torn. She finally smoothes out her skirt, and sits up straight. “Well, I should get to bed. I’ve got an early morning tomorrow with my trainer at the gym. I’ll have to work off all that pizza and beer.”
“Okay,” I say. I stand up and follow her to the front door. Before I can figure out what to do, she pulls me into a hug. “Thanks again for fixing my computer. I really appreciate it.”
After we part, I shove my hands in my pockets and shuffle my feet. There’s so much I want to say, but I decide to keep it simple. “Hey, thanks for not giving up on me.”
“I had a good time tonight. I hope you know how much I love spending time with you.” She smiles as I realize she had just repeated my lines for Dani.
“I hope you know how much I love spending time with you,” I whisper.
“So I’ll see you at work Monday?” she half states, half asks.
“Four twenty-five, with a half-caf Soy caramel macchiato with three pumps, and a Splenda gently stirred in.”
“I like it sweet,” she teases.
I grin. “I know you do.”
As I reach her gate she buzzes me out, and I turn back one last time and wave. As happy as I am, my legs feel like lead with each step I take to my car. I don’t want to leave her. It’s as if a huge magnet is trying to pull me back. And as my car slowly winds down the road, I realize that everything I want is perched on that hill. All the way down, I memorize every turn and landmark, so I’ll always be able to find my way back to her.
• • •
“Mom,” I yell as I step through the door.
“In the kitchen,” she yells back.
I find her at the center island cutting up fruit. I kiss her on the cheek, and take a strawberry.
“How’s my boy?” she asks, looking up at me. I see something in her eyes. It’s curiosity mixed in with that all-knowing mom look. “You look different.”
“Different how?” I ask, a bit creeped out from my mom’s innate intuition. Can she tell I’m in love?
“I’m not sure yet, but I’ll figure it out,” she says confidently. “How’s work?”
“Good, the same. They always want too much done in too little time. Guess what though? I was contacted by Sharper Edge Comics about my comic book.”
“Really, what did they want?”
“They’re interested in publishing it for me. That would be a wider distribution and more promotion.”
“Oh, that sounds great. Make sure and talk to Dad’s lawyers before you sign anything.”
“Don’t worry, I will. By the way where is Dad?”
“He and Curtis are already out playing.”
I start to head out the door.
“And Nathan, if he tries to get you to test the ball retriever out, watch your ankles. He hasn’t worked out all the kinks yet.”
“Okay, thanks for the warning.”
As I head over to the tennis court, I laugh at the idea of my dad working on a ball retriever. He loves tennis, but hates bending over to pick up balls. Dad is the wacky inventor who’s had great success with his unusual ideas. He’s invented countless things over the years and owns dozens of patents, but it’s a small group of his ideas that actually made him rich.
He isn’t an extravagant man. He still drives his old Honda Civic and shops weekly with my mom at Costco. He likes space around him, so their home in Pasadena is large and on a big piece of land. When the doctor told him he needed more exercise, he took up tennis, and built a court at the edge of the property. Now Curtis and I join him every Sunday to play.
“So you finally show up!” Curtis calls out with a grin when he sees me open the gate.
I look at my watch. “Hey, I’m only ten minutes late,” I respond. “Besides, you were a half hour late last week.” I turn towards Dad. “Hi, Dad.”
“Hi, Son. You ready to kick his butt?”
“I’m sure going to try.”
Sadly the game goes as it always does, Curtis beating me, and Dad too while hardly breaking a sweat. He’s an athlete through and through, definitely a deviant in our family gene pool. I’ve always been more like my dad, non-athletic, quirky and a loner, slow to connect with people. If he hadn’t met my mom, he probably would’ve ended up one of those eccentric old guys with tall piles of newspapers stacked all over his house.
Mom serves brunch out on the patio since she doesn’t want our sweaty bodies on her nice upholstery. Big mouth Curtis pipes up before I’ve even taken a bite.
“So Nathan has made a new friend at work…a girl.”
“That’s nice. What’s her name?” my Mom asks politely.
“Brooke,” I say before giving Curtis the evil eye.
“What does she do there?” Dad asks.
“She’s head of development,” I answer cautiously.
“So I’m hoping something will develop for you with this head of development,” Curtis responds.
My mom raises her eyebrows, and looks back and forth between Curtis and me.
“We’re just friends,” I insist. No need making my parents hopeful. I know they worry about me. I was a mess after Rachel and I didn’t work out. I think they feared I would never date again.
Dad pipes up out of the blue. “The mathematical odds of meeting someone at work that would be appropriate for a significant relationship are favorable. Consistent exposure is key.”
Thanks Dad, for the warm fatherly advice.
“Okay, it’s great to have new friends,” Mom says carefully, trying to protect me. “Why don’t you bring her to brunch some time?”
And subject her to the strangeness of my family? No thank you.
“Well, let’s see how it goes first. We’ve only been friends for a week.”
• • •
The next afternoon, Brooke waves me over to her computer like I just left her office. I’ve been a tangled mess all day waiting to see her, but she’s cool as a cucumber and looks really happy to see me. “Hey, come look at this,” she says.
I step up behind her and lean forward. There’s a color image of a girl with big eyes that looks like artist Keene’s work, surrounded by little creatures holding a row of lollipops. It’s freaky, but in a good way. “That’s cool. Whose work is that?”
“Sarah. She’s an in-betweener on Bruce’s team. There’s so much talent here. People have no idea.”
“I know you’re right. A lot of the artists have a hard time promoting their own work.”
“That’s why I’m starting a website where all this art can be featured. I’m also going to do a rotating gallery show in the lobby of the building.”
Like I need another reason to love this woman. She turns back to see my reaction, and I smile happily at her. “That’s a great idea…really.”
“You like it? Arnauld thinks it’s a stupid idea. Well, not so much stupid, but that it is distracting me away from my job. I told him I can do most of it during my off hours.”
“Can I help you with it? I’ve done several websites. You wouldn’t have to pay me.”
“That’d be great. I could really use the help. You shouldn’t do it for free though. Hey, I know…I could feed you. How would that be?”
“As long as it’s not that healthy crud.”
“I promise.” She laughs. “How’s Thursday after work?”
“Sounds good.” I set her coffee on her desk and walk around to the front. “Unfortunately, I’ve got to go, Joel called a four-thirty meeting in the conference room. There’s a problem with the storyboards.”
She looks up at me concerned. “Nathan, are you okay? I mean after Saturday night, are we okay?”
“Okay?”
“I’m just worried I pushed you too hard. I fretted about it all day yesterday.”
I push my glasses back up my nose, and run my fingers through my hair. It occurs to me that she looks vulnerable when I’m the one who was such a mess that night.
I smile at her and hope she can see the gratitude in my eyes. “No, you were just right. I needed to be pushed.”
She lets out a deep exhale. “Oh, I’m so glad.”
“So tomorrow, four-twenty?”
“I’ll be here,” she says, before I regretfully leave for my meeting.
On the way back from the conference room I stop in Dani’s cube. Her earbuds are in and she’s in the zone. It looks like she’s working on some character designs for an upcoming episode. I wait a minute, and when she doesn’t notice me I finally tap her shoulder. She pauses her iPod, and turns to me.
“Hey, Nathan. What’s up?”
“I was wondering if we could talk about something?”
“No can do. This is supposed to be done by six. I can talk after that, though.”
“Okay, just come get me. I’ll be in my cube.”
She nods and turns her iPod back on.
It’s about six-forty when Dani finally show up.
“Sorry dude, he asked for last minute changes.”
“No problem, I have a pile of stuff to do here anyway.” I stand up, and see that Andy is still working in his cube next door. “Hey, let’s find somewhere to talk outside.”
In the elevator down we chat about the show, and rumors that Joel is over budget again.
“He better watch that shit,” Dani warns. “I don’t care what kind of genius he is; for the suits, it’s all about the money.”
When the elevators open we step out and head for the door. Right as I pull it open for Dani, I catch someone in the corner of my eye, and turn to see Brooke holding her work-bag and heading our way. She has a huge smile on her face, and it hits me that she thinks I’m making progress with Dani. I hold the door open longer, until Brooke can pass through.
When we are all three outside, there’s an awkward moment.
“Hi Dani,” Brooke says politely.
“Hey.”
“Are you guys heading this way?” She points to the parking structure.
“No, we were going to go sit down for a while,” I explain nervously.
“Okay, cool. I’ll see you guys tomorrow.” I watch her walk away, before turning back to Dani.
“She seems really nice,” Dani observes.
“Yeah, that’s kinda why I needed to talk to you. I’ve got myself in a mess and hope you can help me out.”
She raises her eyebrows. “What kind of a mess?”
“Well, Brooke and I have become friends, and I was helping her Saturday night with her computer.” I twist my hands together. “So then we had pizza and beer, and she got it in her head that I like someone at work.”
“Really? And who would that be? Because it’s very clear to me that you have set your sights on Ms. Brooke. Am I right?”
I can feel the blood rush to my face. “Please don’t make this any harder than it already is.” I stand up and pace a few times before I sit back down. “I’m so screwed. She thinks I like you.”
She throws her head back and laughs. She laughs so hard; it’s almost insulting.
“I’m so glad you find this amusing.”
“Well, so why didn’t you straighten her out? Oh yes, there’s a little complication. She’s got a boyfriend who happens to be the PRESIDENT of our company, Nathan. I mean, what the fuck are you thinking? You want to get black-balled in our tight-assed little industry?”
“I know. This is really bad.” I double fist my hair and pull hard, groaning.
“You’re whacked. Besides what in the world makes you think she’d go for you? Don’t get me wrong, you’re a kick ass artist, but socially you’re a wee bit stunted.”
“Thanks so much. Now that we’ve talked, I’m feeling so much better about things.”
“There is one more thing I don’t get. How is telling her that you are after me, help things along with her?”
“She wants to help me win you over, so she’s going to teach me things and improve me. She’s doing a My Fair Lady on me. And the lessons are really…enjoyable.”
“You’re full of shit—you’re not that big of a loser, are you?”
“Well, actually…”
“And what do I get out of this?”
“Maybe it’ll make Nick jealous, and he’ll see the light.”
At first her eyes roll, but then I see a fire light up in them. Maybe that isn’t the craziest idea. He has taken his time going back to Dani, but if there is a challenge, he may feel the urgency for them to be reunited sooner. They both know they are destined to be together.
“I’m going to have to think this over. I just don’t know.”
“This isn’t a flat out ‘no’, right? You’ll at least consider it?”
“Yeah, I’ll consider it…let’s talk again tomorrow.” She picks up her backpack and slings it over her shoulder.
“Thanks, Dani, I appreciate that. Until tomorrow then.”
I decide to sit and gather my thoughts, and my mind starts to spin. Just over a week ago my life had a predictable pattern. Every day blended into the next, like a loop of animation being repeated again and again. Now, the loop has torn, and the film is flapping under the hot light of the projector. I have no idea how the next scenes are going to play. The result is a mix of exhilaration and terror. At this point, all I can do I keep the projector running, and hope for the best.
Animate Me / Chapter Six / Yoga Pants
“It’s very hard to be brave when you’re only a very small animal.” ~Winnie the Pooh v
“Soooo…” she says, grinning ear to ear. “How’d it go?”
I hand over her coffee and today’s cup illustration is one that only the two of us would understand. It’s two ends of a USB cord meeting for the first time. They have little cartoon faces on them with mustaches and outie plug heads. They’re both looking at each other with concerned looks and question marks floating over their heads.
Male to male connection, indeed.
“How did what go?” I ask.
“Your date with Dani. Did you kiss?”
I’m embarrassed, but I try to keep my cool. “Oh, we didn’t have a date. We just talked. There was definitely no kiss.”
“Oh.” She looks surprised. I can’t tell if I’m reading her wrong but she looks kind of pleased that she’s the only one I’ve really kissed.
I hold up the cup in front of her so she can see the drawing. Her resulting laugh lightens up the room. “You should at least do these drawings on the cup sleeve, you know. Then at least I could flatten them out and keep them.”
“Oh, you want to keep my cup art,” I tease, hardly able to contain my thrill.
She walks over to one of her built-in cabinets and pulls open the door, then does a Vanna White wave of her arm. Each of my Starbucks cups since day one are lined up like paper soldiers. “As you can see, I’m running out of room. I rinse them out and everything.” She snaps the door closed and walks back to her desk.
“You’re making me feel special.”
“Well, your custom Starbucks cups make me feel special,” she teases back, but I know she means it.
I tip my head down embarrassed, despite the fact that her words make me really happy.
I suddenly feel the energy change in the room, and I turn to see Arnauld in the doorway, leaning against the door jam with his arms folded. He speaks to Brooke like I’m not even there.
“Ready to go over the presentation?”
“Sure, but first, say hi to my friend, Nathan. He’s the animator I told you about on Joel’s team.”
“One of the beavers.” Arnauld snickers. “Hey man, thanks for fixing Brooke’s computer.” He nods at me in that manly, confident way that reeks of masculinity. He’s one of those guys that knows how good-looking he is, and expects everyone to appreciate it. What a schmuck.
“Sure, it was no big deal,” I reply quietly. This is painfully uncomfortable. “I’ll see you later, Brooke.”
“Okay, thanks Nathan.”
When I pass Arnauld, he nods his head again, but all the while he is watching Brooke with a look in his eye. It feels territorial, and I hold my breath until I’ve stepped out of her office.
Morgan gives me that damn knowing look, like I just got caught with my hand in the cookie jar. Well, don’t worry Morgan, I sure didn’t get any cookies today.
• • •
The next day Dani and I slip into a conference room for a private moment. Now that she’s had some time to mull over my request, I’m nervous she’s going to turn me down.
“Do I have to kiss you?”
Leave it to Dani to be thorough. My mind starts imagining different scenarios, and I’m not sure how to answer her.
“I don’t think so, but maybe.”
“Do I have to sleep with you?”
“God, no. The worst it would be is some type of PDA, you know public display of affection.”
“How long are we talking here? It can’t be some ambiguous time frame. We need a firm start date and end date for these shenanigans.”
“Does this mean you’re going to do it?” I ask, hopeful.
“What can I say? I’m a sucker for the underdog. Besides I get a really good feeling about that Brooke, and Arnauld is an asshole. He doesn’t deserve her. You, on the other hand, are one of the good guys. You’re definitely worthy of her.”
“Oh, Dani,” I give her one of my stiff hugs. “Thanks so much.”
She looks at her watch. “Today is the twenty-fourth. You have eight weeks. On the twenty-fourth, month after next, I turn into a pumpkin, so you better be done by then. Agreed?”
I nod nervously. The clock’s running, and its quiet ticking is pounding in my ears.
At lunch time, we head over to Outer Limits, our local comic shop that’s walking distance from the studio. I’ve been so distracted by Brooke that I’m actually behind with my reading. Spiderman could have had a love tryst with the Green Lantern, and I wouldn’t have even known it.
Billie looks happy when we burst through the door because the Sketch Republic crowd means money in the cash register.
“So, you finally show up. What’s the matter Nathan, don’t you love me anymore?” Billie drapes herself over the trading card case and pouts her lips. She knows how to fluster me.
“Of course I do,” I mumble, trying to be cute, but from me it sounds awkward and insincere. It doesn’t help that Andy pushes me towards her, and the guys are chuckling. All of them have a thing for beautiful Billie, but for some reason I’m her favorite.
“You didn’t visit me last week and I missed you so.”
“Missed me, or my wallet?” I surprise myself by challenging her.
“Well… your wallet. But only just a little bit more. It’s true that your open wallet is one of the reasons I put up with you.”
Yeah, that’s Billie.
“Hey Billie, is that a new tattoo?” Joel asks stepping closer. I can’t imagine how he would notice it from several feet away considering that both her arms are entirely covered with tattoos. I didn’t think she had any space left. But she lifts and twists her arm and shows off Wonder Woman deflecting bullets with her silver cuffs.
“Wonder Woman kicks ass,” moans Andy. “That’s so hot.”
“Glad you like it,” she purrs, admiring it herself. She looks at me and winks. “Hey guys did you see that Nathan’s new issue of B-Girl in Wildsville is in?”
“Is that the one with B-Girl painting a ladder to climb out of the maze of doom?” Joel asks. “I remember Nathan working on that one.”
“That’s it,” she confirms. “Now go young warriors, and seek many treasures.”
They take off different directions throughout the store while I linger behind. “Thanks Billie. It’s no surprise that your store sells so many copies of my books.”
“Don’t get too full of yourself, dude, I wouldn’t be doing it if I didn’t love it. B-Girl is the bomb. You keep it up and she’ll be my next tatt.”
“Well, I’d be very honored. I’m sure I’ll be extra inspired when I work on tonight’s pages.”
Dani brings the latest Sailor Moon manga graphic novel up to the register.
“Hey Billie,” she says, pulling out her wallet.
“Dani! Where’ve you been girl?”
“Working too much. All work and no play is making Dani a very dull girl, but did Nathan tell you? He’s taking me on a date this weekend.”
I flush like a smacked bottom.
“Really?” Billie says in an exaggerated voice that is way too loud. “I would never have pegged him as your type.”
“Me neither,” she giggles.
I’m horrified. I step close enough to whisper in her ear. “What’re you doing?” I ask nervously.
“What does it look like?” she whispers back. I can see Nick off to the side watching us.
“So where are you two going?” Billie asks playfully like this is a game. If she only knew.
“I bet somewhere romantic,” Dani teases. Just then her phone rings, and she scrunches her nose after looking at the screen. “Sorry guys, love to talk about our date but I’ve got to take this…gotta step outside.” And she moves quickly out the door.
“What the fuck is that all about?” Billie asks me, her eyes squinting suspiciously.
“Billie, please,” I half whisper. “Not now, I’ll tell you about it later.”
“You better,” she warns. “Or else.”
Billie scares me enough that I believe her. She’d make a great dominatrix.
I nervously move over to the New Release section, hoping if I buy some more stuff it will distract Billie from torturing me. I follow our group out of the store fifteen minutes later with two shopping bags, one hundred-fifty bucks less in my wallet, but my dignity still intact.
Late that night, as I put the final touches on the fifth page of the latest B-Girl story I think about the complicated mess I’ve made with Dani and Brooke, and now Billie is going to stir things up and regularly give me shit about it. I get exhausted just thinking about all the ways things could go wrong. Before I know it, I’m pulling on my hair and my pencil is frozen over the drawing. I make a few more attempts to focus before surrendering and turning off the lights. I hope that tomorrow things will look better.
• • •
The next evening Brooke and I sit at her dining room table with a sketchbook and two beers. It occurs to me that it’s amazing at how comfortable I’ve become with her. “Can I ask you something?” I say.
“Of course.” She smiles softly as she watches my pencil move from one side of the paper to the other.
“I know we talked about this once before, but people are still gossiping and it bothers me. Have more people been telling you I’m buttering you up for a pitch?”
“Is this where the title goes? Or do you think it should be in the center?” Her perfect finger points to the vague shapes I have sketched out.
“Brooke? Are you avoiding my question?” I ask, the insecurity seeping into the tenor of my voice.
“Oh, buttering me up? Yeah, maybe…particularly Arnauld. But I don’t mind. It doesn’t mean you don’t genuinely like me. That’s just how business is done.”
“But this…” I wave my hand between us. “This isn’t business to me. It’s a lot more than that to me.” I immediately feel the burning across my cheeks. I sound like such a pussy. On top of that, now I want to kill Arnauld for wanting Brooke to think that about me.
“How do you know I’m not just being nice to you so that I can keep getting those fabulous soy caramel macchiatos every day?”
“Actually I thought you wanted me for my cup art.” I inwardly smile, pleased with my pussy-free rebound.
“That’s what I’m talking about; you can see right through me. Do you know today Arnauld asked me why I didn’t bring him coffee? Something about the snarky, entitled way he said it, made me want to kick his teeth in. But you…well, you overheard my ridiculous drink mentioned in an elevator, and you wanted me to have it. Now look at us. We’re besties.”
“So it is the Starbucks then.” I smile at her, but inside I ache knowing being besties is a one-way ticket to endless frustration for me. “You may have had an agenda, but you still really think about me, Brooke—not just the development chick.”
I push the pad aside and grip the edge of the table. “It’s just important to me for you to understand that I’m not going to pitch you.”
“What, now I’m not good enough for your show ideas?” she teases.
“It just wouldn’t be right. So you can beg and plead, spoil me with more of these amazing dinners…”
“It was just take-out Thai.”
“Don’t interrupt me. You can beg all you want but I’m not pitching you. Understood?”
“I guess so—if it means that much to you. But if you have some great idea, and take it to another studio and they make it, and it’s it big hit; I will hate you forever. But if you’re willing to take that risk, I guess I’ll be willing too.”
I groan and let my head fall into my hands, my floppy hair falling across my face.
“Hey you,” she says, shaking my shoulder. “Snap out of it, we have a website to design.”
We work too long but I’m not ready to leave yet, I’m on my third beer again. I guess I’m headed toward alcoholism or at the very least a beer gut, but it means more time with Brooke, it’s worth it.
On our final work break of the evening, we are sitting on the balcony looking out at the view. Brooke seems lost in thought.
“What’re you thinking about?” I ask softly, nervous to be too nosey.
“For some strange reason I was thinking about my parents. Do you know that if they’d stayed married they would’ve been married thirty years by now?”
