Page 25 of Drunk Dialing My Enemy

Poor Dot is venting to me over the phone about her job and her boss, the ever-infuriating William Lewis.

Truth be told, sometimes I think there’s a little more going on with her and William. Yes, he’s an uptight boss. Heavens knows I couldn’t handle working for a man like him, especially as his assistant.

“It’s like he expects me to drop everything and do whatever he needs me to do. Never mind that I have a social life. And my photography business. And asleepschedule! I told him the other day, just because he only needs two hours of sleep like one of those Twilight vampires, that doesn’t mean the rest of us don’t need eight.”

“Actually, the Twilight vampires never slept at all,” I say. “Edward didn’t even own a bed.”

“Oh, that’s right,” Dot replies distractedly. “William is Edward. Except he never moved past the jerk stage from the first movie. He’s just a…a perma-jerk!”

I hear her get into her car, the keys turning the ignition. If I know my best friend, she’s probably going to stop to get a caramel macchiato, then head into the office that William’s practice has in downtown Wild Bronco.

“Could you…quit? Find a new job?” I ask tentatively.

It’s an unspoken rule in our friendship that when one of us calls and says she needs to vent, you let her vent. You don’t suggest solutions, you just let her get it all off her chest. Solutions are stifling. We have to let the problem breathe first.

But this problem has breathed enough, hasn’t it? Dot is venting to me about her job nearly every time I see her at this point. I hate seeing my friend so unhappy.

Something has to give.

“As soon as my photography business makes enough to pay my monthly bills, I’m out of there,” she says firmly. “Problem is, William’s erratic schedule has started to impact my photography business. I had to reschedule my boudoir client that was supposed to come in today. It’s so frustrating.”

I frown.

“That’s so unfair. What did William say when you told him you’d have to reschedule your plans?”

“Oh, I didn’t tell him,” she says dismissively. “I don’t talk to him about the photography business. He’d probably think it was stupid. You know, chubby chick taking photographs of other chubby chicks in their underwear. Guys like William love to make fun of things like that. He wouldn’t get it at all.”

I bite my lip. I’m not sure I agree with Dot’s assessment of William. I don’t know him well, and I understand that he’s a big old grouch. But he’s never been a bully.

“Anyway,” Dot sighs. “I’m sorry. I’m taking up all the space in this conversation. We haven’t even talked about you. How are you? What are you up to today?”

Feeling guilty as hell for not telling you about me and your brother, that’s what.

“Just cleaning up around the house,” I say. “You know, Sunday reset.”

The door of my apartment opens. Darren enters, a couple of bags in his hands.

“Hey, I’m back,” he calls loudly before he notices me in the kitchen on the phone.

“Who’s that?” Dot asks. “Sounds like my brother.”

“It is,” I say quickly. “He came by to work on the building.”

“Well, give him my hello,” she says. “Tell him he better be a nice landlord to you or his sister will kick his butt.”

I hear her car slow down and then the sound of a drive through speaker. “Welcome to Fiction and Foam. Can I take your order?”

“I’ll talk to you later,” I say in a rush.

“See ya.”

Darren enters the kitchen. I wait by the counter with a smile, expecting him to come grab me the way he had before he left. Instead he goes to the sink, unpacking the stuff he got from the hardware store and laying it on the floor beside his toolbox.

Okay. That’s fine. He’s focused on fixing the sink.

No need to get insecure and weird about it, Katie.

Except I am. Damn.

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