Page 1 of When Glitter Meets Gold
1
SARA
My back straightens in my chair, my eyes narrowing as I reach into the top drawer of my office desk. Slowly, I extract a glossy brochure, setting it onto the polished tabletop while tracking the insect that’s crawling next to the pen holder. My freshly glossed lips purse together as I watch a tiny fruit fly taint the shiny surface with its sticky, microscopic legs.
I have this tendency, aquirkif you will, to scream when I’m in the presence of crawly things no matter what size they are.
But…since the office happens to be experiencing a rare lull of silence, I’m going to contain any outbursts should this creature move so much as an inch closer to me. I will remain calm, and I won’t make a sound.
I twist the brochure into a roll, the laminate squeaking beneath my grip as I wonder how, on the forty-ninth floor of a New York skyscraper, a fly has managed to infiltrate my concrete safe haven.
The fly stops, dramatically so, before angling its little body on a path which happens to point toward me.
I will remain calm, and I won’t make a sound.
It begins crawling with the speed of an F1 car.
“Ohmyfuck!!”
I can practically hear the irritated whoosh of heads that twist in my direction.
“Sorry,” I say, wincing as I jam the brochure back in my desk and smooth down my long tendrils of chestnut hair which have probably leapt out of place during the panic. “Sorry, being quiet now.” I hold up my hands.
I barely finish my apology before the high-pitched notes of my best friend’s voice comes from over my shoulder.
“Useless meeting, as usual,” Amber declares as she props her leggy, slender frame against my desk. “Two hours listening to Walter praise Kandi and her team. Her pitch sucked, but of course nobody said anything because she bribed the room with twelve-dollar smoothies. You know that’s ninety-six dollars? On mashed-up fruit! She’s up to something, some sneaky secret agenda.” Amber nudges me. “Right?”
“Oh, yeah...” I nod absently while glaring at a guy in the cubicle two rows down. “She’s the sneakiest. Hey, speaking of fruit, I think Raj is harboring nectarines again.”
Amber turns her head to where Raj, a seventeen-year-old intern from California, is twirling on his chair. “Pardon?”
“I saw a fruit fly. Every time there’s a fruit fly, it’s because Raj forgot to clear his nectarines from his desk. I’ll bet they’re in that drawer right now, festering and attracting things that crawl. Ihatethings that crawl.” I wince.
“You don’t say.” The sarcastic drawl of the receptionist, Francis Huang comes from behind me. “Whydoyou hate things that crawl?” he asks, holding out a basket of withering pastries left over from earlier meetings. He dumps a sagging pan au chocolate on my desk, shrugging whenflakes of stale pastry disperse over my keyboard and onto my lap. I swear he does it on purpose to get a reaction.
“I’d rather not say.” I glare at him while making a deliberate scene of brushing crumbs from the expensive fabric of my skirt.
Amber snorts. “Her childhood crush pushed her into a swamp, and a bunch of ants bit her on the ass.”
Amber’s softly lined gray eyes wrinkle at the corners as she chuckles to herself. Then she places a slender hand on my shoulder, gently squeezing a set of cloudy manicured nails into my skin. “Tell him the story.” She flashes a glance at Francis. “It’s hilarious, you’ll literally pee.”
Francis looks at me with one of those anticipating open mouthed smiles.
“I’m not using my unresolved trauma to amuse the two of you.” I smack Amber’s hand from my shoulder, scoop up the pan au chocolate and thrust it at Francis. I spin back to my desk, ignoring Amber’s relentless giggling.
“Ugh, boring.” Francis rolls his eyes and strides off to disappoint another booth with tragic baked goods.
Regardless of my snub to discuss the incident from childhood, I can feel my mind recalling that fateful day seventeen years ago anyway…
My family are visiting friends one summer. The kids have been shooed off to play in the backyard, which in the vastness of southern Florida, means full access to the swamps.
Georgina and Ty, two siblings from devil spawn origin, know I have a crush on their older brother, Jack. They tell me he wants to meet me in a secret location near the swamps. I’m eight, I don’t know that swamps are not romantic meet up spots, I just know I’ve scribbled a drawing of myself and Jack, and I want to give it to him.
“Almost there, Sarah.” Ty, the youngest grins.
I should have known when he mispronounced my name with that evil smile. I don’t have time to tell him for the thousandth time, ‘It’s Sara. Literally Zara but with an S,’ because we’ve arrived at the edge of the most putrid smelling swamp in existence.
“You gotta close your eyes, shut them tight,” Georgina says, wicked glinting in her eyes. “Or Jack won’t come out.”
