Page 2 of Heart Match

Sorry, I forgot to mention I’m a lingerie designer.

There was once a time that working for Secretive was a dream. When I began working for them as an intern, it felt surreal. Today it feels like I don’t belong there, like our visions don’t match anymore. I guess I changed, while Secretive stayed the same. Certain relationships tend to make both parts grow apart, no matter how hard you try to make it work.

‘There are so many great things behind this idea, it’s hard to accept that she didn’t even give you a chance. Your talent needs to be appreciated and I’ve been …’ Naomi stops mid-way to amend her sentence, ‘we’ve been telling you for a while that maybe it’s time for you to move on, honey.’

‘Oh, so that explains your unreadable expressions. You’ve both been talking about my work situation again,’ I say, getting the cute bartender’s attention to my empty glass. His expression says are you sure about this? Who does he think he is to imply with his gorgeous face that I’ve already had enough to drink? I try to remember how many glasses I’ve had since I got here, but I lost count after the third, which makes me think I should have eaten before letting alcohol hit my system.

‘Livvy, don’t get me … us wrong. You’re twenty-six, your whole life ahead, talented as fuck, great potential, but let’s be honest, you’re a workaholic and Secretive slaves the hell out of you. You breathe, and live work—you dedicate all your time to this company that, in my opinion, has such a different vision than yours. Isn’t it time for change?’ asks Naomi.

Change. I don’t know what’s changed for the past three years, apart from the fashion trends and my hair. Yes, I work. A lot. Yes, I’m unhappy with not being able to work on projects I’m passionate about. But no, I don’t want changes. Changes are scary, and I’ve been avoiding them with all my strength, from the simple things regarding my daily routine to more complex ones related to my work life.

‘Oh, and did I mention the fact that you haven’t been in a serious relationship since … Ever since you …’ I don’t let Naomi finish.

‘Stop right there. What has my work situation got to do with having a serious relationship or not?’ I protest. ‘It’s not like I don’t see people,’ I remind them.

‘Yeah, sure, you do see people. More like, you fuck them and dump them before they even get a chance to bring you flowers,’ says Naomi in her scary bossy tone. I’d probably have felt terrified about it if I weren’t so tipsy and angry. Naomi can be terrifying sometimes, like an authoritarian mother.

I let out an annoyed exhale and drink some more from my freshly refilled glass. The alcohol is helping me to be immune to the accusations, or at least to make them less hurtful.

‘Livvy, I’m sorry, but Naomi is right. The last guy, who was it? Dan? He was so sweet, and gorgeous …’ begins Lexi.

‘Yeah sure, he was way too sweet, like honey and sugar and sweetener all together in one glass of water. He just wouldn’t stop texting, it was freaking annoying. Did I mention he wouldn’t shut up about Game of Thrones? God, I loved the series, but that’s all he could talk about, like he was living in GOT’s world.’ I might have gotten carried away right there. Poor Dan, his only real problem was that he wanted more than sex and I didn’t.

‘Oh, fine. But there were so many other cool guys. It’s like you just use them and throw them in the trash, like tampons,’ says Lexi, and this coming from her was new, and surprising. Did she really compare guys with tampons?

Naomi shoots me her raised eyebrows stare, agreeing with Lexi.

‘So what? I’m happy with just having fun. I’m young, busy and you know being in a relationship right now for me is something out of the question.’

I keep taking big gulps of my rosé; it’s starting to go down way smoother than the first sip. I begin staring at the bartender again to order one more.

Is he new? I’ve never seen him at the pub before.

I begin imagining going home with him, those biceps perfectly fitting under that black T-shirt. I bet he has one hell of a V under it. I’m tempted to slip my hand under the hem to feel him up. He’s checking me out too. I smile at him and watch him flush. I don’t even care that probably every day a drunk girl does the same to him.

‘Oh my God, stop flirting with the bartender,’ says Naomi in disbelief, snapping me back to the conversation.

‘I’m not … whatever. Is he new?’ I say, still trying to save my ass from the not pleasant conversation.

‘Livvy,’ Naomi hisses. ‘Anyways, we’re just saying …’

‘What Naomi?’ I snap.

I’m getting upset—I hate it when they decide to intervene. I don’t need an intervention. I don’t need to be saved from my work nor be pressured to open up to a relationship again. I called them today because I wanted them to listen to me bitching about my work, not to intervene as if I am an addict and need help.

‘Maybe you need change. Also, you should question if not wanting a relationship is something related to your work life, or to, you know …’ continues Naomi.

‘Do I even have a chance on winning an argument against you tonight?’ I say, defeated and lightheaded. Light like a balloon.

‘No, you don’t,’ says Naomi with a devilish smirk.

‘What happened to that dream of yours of founding your own brand?’ says Lexi.

‘That was a long time ago,’ I say.

‘Three years ago isn’t a long time,’ Naomi points out.

Three years ago a lot of things were different. I’m not that person anymore.

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