Chapter 59
1698words
Water didn't help. Food didn't help. Not even my precious coffee. And it certainly didn't help, that behind every wave of nausea, there lay an over-whelming feeling of guilt.
You yelled at Nicholas last night. Screamed at him. Did exactly the thing he accused you of, the thing you promised you'd never do: You lied to him, the same way you lie to the press.
But what was the alternative? Tell him the truth? I didn't know it myself! And maybe he was completely right. Maybe I didn't want to see him with one of his exes. And maybe I wanted him to pretend because I wanted him all to myself.
No! That was outrageous!
My thought process was literally: he decided to go along with my PR plan then walked abruptly away...so I found the most wretched girl in the world to stick him with.
In what possible dimension did that make sense? What impulse in the world had possibly inspired such a ludicrous lapse in judgment? And then I yelled at him on top of everything else?
I was lucky he hadn't fired me on the spot.
Don't worry about that...there's still time.
With the speed and coordination of a shell-shocked turtle, I managed to yank some clothes over my head, stick my feet in some shoes, and head out the door. My purse was still packed with all my work equipment from the day before (thank goodness—so I didn't need to do my customary ‘racing all over the apartment to find things' routine), so without another moment's delay, I hailed down a cab and headed into the office.
'Morning," I mumbled to the cabbie, before giving him the address. 'And I know everyone says this—but if you could hurry, that would be greatly appreciated."
The man's eyes twinkled as he glanced at me in the rear-view mirror.
'Late night, sweetheart?"
I fought back another wave o
f nausea, and twisted my grimace into a smile.
'...you could say that."
He chuckled and pulled out into the gridlocked rows of cars.
'Don't worry about it. You're not the first walk of shame I've driven into work today."
Walk of shame?
I looked down at my clothes in dismay, only to see that in my zombie-esque state, I'd pulled on a sundress—not my usual work dress. The thing twisted up in a halter, before dropping just beneath my knees. As if that wasn't bad enough, I'd also pulled it on backwards.
'Oh, that's just perfect," I muttered, 'because nothing says New York City winter like halters and daisies..."
For a second, I considered yanking the thing around right there in the car. Then I saw the cabbie was still watching with a little smirk.
...probably best to wait until I'm at the office.
Ten minutes later, we had arrived. I over-paid the man, too hungover and embarrassed to count out the correct bills, then climbed out and waved him on his way with the world's biggest tip. From there, it was just a quick, freezing dart inside to the elevator.
'Morning Ms. Winchester," Joe—the doorman—called out as I ducked inside. 'Late night?"
For the second time, I glanced down at the sundress with a scowl. It was only then that I noticed the two mismatched pairs of shoes. My cheeks flushed and I glanced back up, ready with a hasty excuse, only to see him smiling. I flipped him off instead and hurried to the elevator.
That bastard. Guess who's not getting a Christmas card from me this year...
By the time the doors opened on my floor, I was in a particularly foul mood. My head was spinning, my stomach was queasy, and freezing gusts of air kept flying up the skirt of my ridiculous summer dress. The interns recognized the look and ducked for cover.
Allison, my unassuming secretary, was not so lucky.
'Messages?" I snapped, pausing at her desk to remove my coat.
Her eyes widened slightly at my ensemble, but she said not a word. She also had the good sense to hand me her own cup of coffee.
'Harold called from the Times, said that he'll retract the lobster piece, but he wants a sit-down at the company's annual party on the Fourth of July."
'Fine. What else?"
'Cynthia called from Denver, said they discontinued that cologne Nicholas wanted, but she did get some definitive information on, and I quote: time-share adopting a bear."
'Fine. What else."
She flipped through her notes at the speed of light, disregarding and prioritizing as she went. 'Oh, your mother called—"
'What else?'
'I think...I think that's about it."
'Good." I handed back her now empty coffee and looked down at my dress. 'I going to fix this really quick in the bathroom, and then—"
'Avery!"
I looked up to see Jake waving to get my attention. Both hands on his keyboard, and a blinking phone glued to his ear.
'What was that one guy's name?" he called from across the office. 'The one with that girl from that show that we said we looked like Tommy Tamica's cousin? Dressed in drag?"
'Brian," I answered automatically. Then I looked down at the fading lettering on my hand with a sudden burst of illumination. Oh my gosh—that's who it was. 'BRIAN!"
I raised my hands in silent victory, drawing curious looks from the staff, before lowering them back down with a decided smirk. At least one thing was going right today.
...or so I thought.
'Oh—and Nicholas's on his way to the office."
The smirk melted right off my face, replaced with a cold chill as I glanced automatically towards the elevators. He was coming here?! He NEVER came here!
'What?!" I hissed. 'Why the hell didn't you lead with that?!"
Her eyes widened with confusion as she shook her head.
'You've only been here a minute, I thought—"
'You always, always lead with the client," I snapped, misdirecting a good deal of pent-up nerves. I glanced again at the metallic doors. 'Did he say what he wanted?"
She shook her head quickly, looking more and more confused every second. 'He said you'd know what it was about. I'm assuming it's about Elisia?"
With a soft gasp, I sank onto her desk. My face as pale as a ghost.
Yeah...I bet he wanted to talk about Elisia. I also bet I would no longer be in charge here by the time he was finished.
'Is everything okay?" Allison asked quietly, brow furrowing with concern as she perched on the desk beside me. 'Did you two have a fight or something?"
My head jerked sharply. 'Why—did he say that?"
'No, I just—"
'What did he say, Allison? Exactly."
She glanced down at her notes. 'Just that he was on his way into the office with Elisia and that you'd know why. They need to start planning out events."
All my panic came screeching to a halt, replaced instead with sudden confusion.
'Wait...what?"
'Events," Allison repeated. 'They want to get started planning—"
"Events with Elisia?" I shook my head. "No, that's not happening anymore. Elisia's not going to be a good fit, I'm afraid. It's back to the drawing board—"
"Apparently not," she interjected apologetically. "Nicholas called to leave the message himself. I think it's actually the first time I've ever talked to him..."
Without another word, I hurried into my office, slamming the door shut behind me, muttering something about lobsters and mismatched shoes.
There was a brief hush from the other staffers, though by now they were accustomed to such eccentricities. The world of public relations was indeed peculiar, and they had witnessed stranger scenes in the office than mine.
But I had no time to worry about whether my employees thought I was losing it. My boss was on his way over.
And for some inexplicable reason, he was bringing along that Oklahoma disaster.
Okay, Avy, think! Think!
But there simply wasn't enough time. Barely four seconds later, my intercom buzzed and Allison's voice crackled through the speaker.
"Excuse me, Avery? Mr. Huntington is here to see you. Along with his...friend."
I closed my eyes in a weary grimace, sinking an inch lower in my chair. Yes, that was Elisia alright. She had a way of making an impression.
Fully aware that I might be facing a firing squad, I pressed the button to respond.
"Send them in."
A moment later, the door swung open and Nicholas strode in confidently. The previous night's heavy drinking seemed to have left no trace on him, while I felt like I'd crawled out of a swamp.
Behind him, through the slowly closing door, I glimpsed the faces of every single person in my office, straining to catch a glimpse. They spent their lives staring at computer screens plastered with images of Nicholas's face, but this was their first time seeing him in the flesh. And with Nicholas Huntington, I had to admit, the man lived up to the legend.
Trailing behind him like an afterthought was dear little Elisia. It seemed he had not only forgotten he'd brought her, but also why he'd come in the first place because of her.
"Good morning, Avery!"
Was he intentionally speaking loudly, or was it my imagination? Either way, I winced as I pushed slowly to my feet, my head pounding with a hangover that refused to budge.
"Good—" I cleared my throat and tried again, "—good morning."
His eyes danced with a strange triumph as they assessed my disheveled appearance. It was then that I remembered I was wearing the sundress. And it was still on backwards.
"Holy shit!" Elisia stepped forward, her jaw practically hitting the floor. "Avery, what the hell happened to you? You look fucking awful!"
Real subtle, that one. Sweet, too.
Nicholas lowered his head to stifle a grin, and I managed a strained smile at her.
"Uh...thanks, Elisia. I just had a long night, that's all." With as much dignity as I could muster, I gestured for the three of us to sit. "Trust me—it won't happen again."
Never again.
