Page 58 of Latte Girl
“Wearesupposed to be acting like we’re interested in each other. Might as well have some fun with it,” she says, reaching up to strokemyhand.
“Look,” I say, disentangling myself and taking a step back, “I get that there’s some kind of PR scheme going on here, but we don’t even know each other. Don’t youthink—”
She crashes into me, yanking my head down towards her and mashing her lipsagainstmine.
I jump away the second I can register what’sgoingon.
“What the fuck?” Ishout.
She flicks her hair over her shoulder, unperturbed, as I gape at her inshock.
“This PR scheme is going to make my career, and my career is going to make your father’s company. Do yourself a favour and play along,” she saysevenly.
“Who the hell do you think you are?” I yell, finally finding my voice. “Don’t you ever touch meagain.”
She raises a perfectly arched brow and then turns towards thedoors.
“I don’t have to,” she calls, just before stepping inside. “I already got what Iwanted.”
I have no idea what she’s talking about, but I’m not going to indulge her with an attempt to find out. She pulls the door closed behind her in a huff and I’m alone on the balconyagain.
I clench my hands around the railing, listening to the sounds of the street below rise up to meet the echoes of the party behind me. Nina launching herself at me is just the cherry on top of a totally fucked upevening.
I pull out my phone and order an Uber, shooting off a text to Ludo to let him know I’m going home. Slipping back into the lounge, I dart over to the elevators and breathe a sigh of relief when the doors slide shutbehindme.
I know I haven’t done well here tonight, and that if my father hears anything about it there’ll be hell to pay. At this point, though, I already owe hell a prettylongstandingdebt.
* * *
Igetinto work early the next morning, striding past rows of empty cubicles and a deserted reception desk as I head to my office. The meeting Hailey’s catering today doesn’t start for another hour, but she agreed to come over to the Knox building in time for us to talk before the placefillsup.
It’s still far from ideal, but the only time she can see me outside of work is early next week, and I don’t know how far I’ll be expected to take this Nina Felina thingbythen.
An email from Uncle Ludo pops up in my inbox as I’m clicking through files on my laptop. I’m surprised he’s even awake right now, never mind at the office. He didn’t respond to my text about leaving the party last night until one in themorning.
Morning son,it begins.How’s your hangover? Did you get that tasty little Nina back to your place last night? She’s got quite the caboose, that woman. Glad to see you’re moving on from latte girls and hitting the bigleagues.
I’m not hung-over at all, but I suddenly feel like I’m abouttohurl.
Scanning through the rest of the email, I skip over several paragraphs describing the many women who had the misfortune of catching Ludo’s eye last night. Only two short sentences at the end of the message are actually relatedtowork:
That distribution report you needed came through yesterday. I’ll send someone from over there to review the numbers with you around nine, ifyou’refree.
Ignoring his comments about Nina, I tell him I’m available then and to send the person reviewing the reports to myoffice.
My stomach lurches again just after I press the send button, and I realize my nausea might be because I skipped breakfast, not just an effect of Ludo referring to a woman’s ass as a ‘caboose.’ While my talk with Hailey is in all likelihood going to go terribly anyways, I figure I should at least try to avoid puking right in the middle of it and head to the cafeteria to get somethingtoeat.
Different versions of what I’m going to say drift in and out of my mind as I scan the assortment of oily muffins and bruised fruit ondisplay.
So my dad wants me to pretend to date a pop star to make his company more famous, but I could secretly date you at the same time. Are you coolwiththat?
Even to me, that suggestion sounds about as appealing as the limp croissant I’ve decidedtoeat.
I know the only real way to make her understand why I have to do this, and why I’ve done everything else, would be to explain about my mom, but how do you tell someone that you decided pursuing the career you wanted was worth risking your own mother’shealth?
I search for the words that will pull her into my memories, let her hear all my mother’s muffled sobs and my father’s icy threats. I want to show her how his control has wrapped itself like a rope around my neck, constricting my airflow every time I try to break free. The more I struggle, the tighteritgets.
My phone buzzes in my pocket, pulling me back to reality. It’s a text from Hailey, letting me know she’s in the building. Tossing the remaining half of my sad excuse for a pastry in the trash, I get up and head to theelevators.
