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And I don’t know if I could face them, seeing the judgment in their eyes.
Besides, I know they kept reaching out to me because they only wanted to gossip about Friday night’s party or analyze what happened between Matt and me. I’d rather not think about it at all. The more I do, the more upset I become, especially when the things his dad said to me come into play.
I bet you chase her around your desk all the damn time, trying to get your hands on that ass. I know I would.
Spending the majority of the weekend in bed watching bad TV and eating junk food didn’t do anything to help my mood either. By the time I got my act together and prepared to go into work, I had bags under my eyes, my skin was kind of pale, I felt five pounds heavier, and I had a zit on my chin.
Great.
I showed up right on time though, not wanting to disappoint anyone—specifically Matt. Not wearing any beige or my severe hairstyle either, deciding to give in and go with what’s natural for me, not the phony front I’ve put up since I’ve arrived here. Clad in the dress I wore last Monday, with the black background and blue and green flower and bird pattern, I leave my hair loose and hanging down my back.
I’m tired of the facade. Of being something I’m not. If I had my slightly trampy clothes from my time in Hollywood or even my wardrobe from Cactus, I’d be wearing them. Today. Right now.
But I don’t have any of those clothes anymore. I burned most of them. It had felt like a cleansing of sorts, one I’d needed to start fresh.
Now I wish I had them. Just to remind me of my roots and who I really am. That reminder would fuel me and keep me strong for what I’m about to do today. Something I need to do.
I need to quit.
But Matt showed up late which made me antsy. He came in just past nine with a harried expression on his face, rushing into the room with the determination of a man on a mission. He’d dressed casually, jeans and a polo shirt that fit him to perfection.
My mouth literally waters when I see him now.
But what else is new?
“Had a meeting with the Napa Valley Vintners this morning,” he says, stopping just in front of my desk. His mind is going a mile a minute, I can tell. “I need you to look into flights to New York City in a few weeks. We’re going to attend the Savor Wine Guild annual convention. Had no idea it was going down, so I need to make arrangements quick.”
I grab a pen and start jotting down notes. “What are the dates?”
“We’d have to leave two weeks from today,” he says, whipping out his phone and scrolling through his emails.
My pen stills on the notepad, and I pause for a moment, his words slowly sinking into my dense brain. I glance up to find him watching me carefully. Almost too carefully. “Did you say ‘we’?”
“I want you to go with me, Bryn. I’ll need your help. It’s only for a few days, but it’s a busy few days. I’ll want your input, and you’ll have to keep me on task,” he explains.
He wants me to go with him, alone, to New York City. I must be hearing things.
“Are you serious?”
“Serious as a heart attack.” His expression is dead serious too. “You’re my assistant, right? I can’t do this alone, Bryn. There’s going to be a two-day forum with business discussions, workshops, and extensive, in-depth wine tastings. I can’t be everywhere at once, so I need you to take on some of the workshops and talks or whatever, take notes and get back to me.”
“Okay.” I take a few more notes then turn to my computer and start searching for flights. “Are you sure you want to bring me though? I mean, really? Won’t it be just an extra expense, my flight and hotel room, food and everything else that comes with traveling?”
“I need as many write-offs as I can get,” he says dismissively. “And I can afford to bring you, Bryn. That’s not an issue, so don’t worry about it.”
All my plans of giving my notice to Matt fly right out the window at his rapid-fire requests. There’s no way I can leave now. He needs me, as ridiculous as it sounds. Despite all the trouble I will no doubt bring him and the expectations he’ll have, I need to be there for him.
I can do this. I’ll work for the next two weeks, take the trip to New York, run around this convention with him for a few days, come home, and then I’ll give my notice. That ought to give me enough time to find a job in Cactus, not that it should be too difficult.
I’d called my grandma last night, asking if I could go back and live with her in Cactus. She’d agreed readily, her booming voice coming at me over the phone, loud and reminding me why I left my hometown in the first place.
“Of course you can come live with me, girl. I know Wanda down at the Soap-n-Snip needs a new phone girl. Maybe you could get your cosmetics license and make that career happen. It’s a good one, you know. Why, that sweet little Becky who’s only two years older than you has made herself quite the career working there.”
Then she’d launched into a twenty-minute gossip session full of what’s been happening in Cactus the last few years. By the time she finished, I knew everything. All of it.
Some stuff I found interesting. Other stuff I couldn’t care less about. Typical Cactus talk, all of it.
And soon I’ll be back, right in the midst of it all. Working at the Soap-n-Snip, answering the phone, sweeping up hair, and generally miserable with life.
