Page 99 of Pierced

My jaw tightens around a tense smile. I nod, and as I walk past him, I think, Fifty Shades of Go Fuck Yourself, pal.

When I get inside her office, the first thing I see is Myrtle with her hand over her mouth, suppressing a laugh. I can feel the WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON bellow working its way up in my lungs. But that gets quashed by the next thing I see.

Photos. Family photos. Myrtle’s family photos. All over the walls. Some of the same ones that adorned the foyer of her house. And a desk that looks very… Myrtle. Same with the chair. The whole office feels like… her. And my shoulders drop, the tension falling right out of them.

She brought part of herself here. Her actual self. The life she’s lived before and the life she’s living now, with me, here, all in the same place. What the fuck is in my throat? It’s hard to swallow. Where did that weird lump come from?

She pulls her hand away from her smirking mouth, shakes her head and says, “Shit, I’m so sorry.”

“Um, who? The fuck? Is—?”

“Bryce?”

“Yeah, Bryce. Who the fuck is Bryce?”

“I pulled him from the intern pool. I just kind of assumed he’d know the owner of the company. But I’m starting to get the feeling he didn’t get a gig here because of his attention to detail. Hi.” She runs over to me and throws her arms around my neck. She gives me a kiss, which I gladly reciprocate. “I’m sorry that we’ve been playing tag this week,” she says. “It’s been crazy. How was New York?”

“Um, fine. Good. I missed you.”

“You did?”

“I really, very did.”

She smiles. “Was it OK with your dad?”

“Surprisingly so, yeah.”

“I’m so glad!” She kisses me again. I’m thrilled, but at the same time, I have to ask…

“So what’s going on here?” I gesture to nowhere in particular.

“Oh,” she says, stepping behind her desk with a calculated cool. “Not much. I just hung up with the Perrier people.”

“You did?” I ask, thoroughly confused.

“Uh-huh,” she says, giddily. “Guess what?”

“Oh, shit. It’s not had another benzene contamination, has it? That happened when I was a kid and I couldn’t drink it for months.”

“No,” she says, grinning, “they want to buy ad space in the magazine for the next… year!”

“What?”

“Yep!”

“Guess what else?”

“Free bottles in the café?”

“They’re actually going to sponsor the party!”

“Which party? The Halloween party?”

“Yep!”

“On such short notice?”

“Whatever. It’s a banner outside and a bunch of free bottles at the bar. It’s perfect.”