Page 87 of Burning for You

Levi

My eyes are still shut, but my arms are flailing to find Carolyn.

“Hmmh,” I complain when I realize she’s not next to me.

I turn lazily to check the time, but Carolyn has covered my alarm clock with a mixer bowl. Unveiling the clock, I see 9 a.m., and she has left a note.

You didn’t need your alarm today. Come whenever you’re ready. Text me when you’re close and I’ll wait for you at reception. Please bring your best, handsome self. My reputation is at stake.

She ended her message with an XO and a winking smiley.

I hug the note to my chest. I wish I had made her breakfast, kissed her goodbye and done other boyfriendy stuff.

The best thing I can do to wipe away my blues is to see her.

I have a shower and put on my dress shirt and tailored pants, exactly what I wore to Brilliance that day. But before I head to Sass’ office, I drop by my barber.

“Levi, my man!” Andreas says. “What happened to you? Look at your fringe. It’s horsehair!”

“Yeah. Fix me up, will you?” I say.

My barber spreads a cape over me. “Where are you going?”

“An interview,” I say.

My barber scoffs. “What kind of job? Funeral director?”

“Do I look bad in these?”

He frowns. “Yyeaah.”

“I’m seeing someone at the office of Sass by Caro. Do you know the brand?” I say, thinking a stylish guy like him might know about Carolyn’s company.

“Hell yeah. I’ve bought a lot of their polos and crewnecks. And I can tell ya, you’ve gotta get changed.”

Getting changed is one thing, but into what? I mentally take stock of what I have in my wardrobe while Andreas reinstates my undercut, one side at a time.

“What do you think I should wear?”

Andreas applies some mousse on my fringe. “Sass by Caro is chic and fun. For a young fella like you, I think a simple tee and dress shorts will be ‘very Sass.’ Those tats will probably work in your favor, too,” he says, shaping my fringe into a side part while blowing it dry. “They love personalities.”

I look in the mirror, feeling slightly closer to my handsome self, the one that Carolyn asked for. “You sound like a recruiter,” I say. “Are you sure?”

“You asked my opinion, buddy!” Andreas says. “But when I say t-shirt, I don’t mean one with ‘Stay Calm and…’ that shit.”

The man refuses to take my money, saying my hair was in such a sorry state he feels guilty being paid for restoring my basic ‘man-necessity.’

Back in my apartment, after trying on about half a dozen t-shirts, I walk out wearing a black and white Adidas one, paired with my gray tailored shorts. I step out to a group of girls stealing glimpses and whispering among themselves. The tee is tight around my biceps, but I make those sleeves even tighter by rolling them up.

Following a four-stop subway ride, my feet take me to the Sass by Caro office as if by instinct. I push open the glossy glass door brandishing a tagline: Welcome to the headquarters of fun-loving creatives/crazies.

The office smells like Carolyn—not her erotic scent, but her sweet scent.

“Hi, can I help you?” the receptionist says.

I was hoping she would be here so I wouldn’t have to talk to anyone else, but I forgot to text her.

“I’m here to see Carolyn Meyer.”

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