Page 16 of Like You Want It
“Met me?” I bark out another laugh. “He barged into my apartment on Sunday and told me not to be friends with you.” I add more wine to my glass. “And insulted my personality.”
Susie is silent for a second, and I get the feeling she’s choosing her words carefully. “Fin is…” she pauses. “He’s protective. And to be fair, he saw your apartment and assumed you do drugs, so he thought he was helping me.”
“I knew it!” I say. “Wait, you said he didn’t tell you about me.”
She winces. “Well, what am I supposed to say? That he called you the crazy lady downstairs and told me to stay away? I didn’t wanna hurt your feelings.”
“Your brother’s words and actions aren’t yours,” I say, and she smiles. “Also, you’re an adult. You’re, what, twenty-five?”
“Almost. I’m twenty-four.”
“So you’re a year older than me. He shouldn’t be dictating your friendships.”
A sad expression comes across her face but she turns away and focuses on a new piece of salami, too quickly for me to understand what it was. “Well, he’d do anything for me. And he wants me to be happy.”
I nod, though she can’t see me. “Well, I’m really glad you have a brother who loves and supports you,” I say, catching on to the fact that this seems like a good time to change the subject.
Besides, we don’t care about him anyway, do we?
The little devil on my shoulder shrugs.
“Alright Miss Owns-All-The-Movie-Posters.” I pick up a bread and cheese. “Spill the deets. I want to know everything about that collection. Because it. Is. Amazing.”
Susie and I spend the next two hours on the floor. Not only does she talk about her poster collection – her dad is a cinephile and the two have been creating rival poster collections since she was in junior high – but we also chat about our shared interest in eighties movies, and Susie reveals that her dad has original film versions of some of my favorites.
The depth of my jealousy is endless.
Eventually we move on to more current topics. I tell her about my job at The Steam Room and the fact it might end soon. When I share my interest in yoga, her face scrunches up.
“No thanks. I’d rather just sit on the elliptical machine for hours instead.”
My eyes light up but I see her shake her head even though I haven’t said anything.
“Get that smile off your face, Carly,” she demands. “I’m not a challenge that can be convinced to like yoga. I promise you, it is just not for me.”
My shoulders drop slightly, but I’m sure the mischievousness doesn’t leave my eyes because she glares at me while she sips her wine.
She tells me about her job as a virtual assistant to both a construction company and a mommy blogger.
“How did you get into that?” I ask, pouring myself another glass. “It seems like a weird job. Really cool, but also not something you hear about often.”
She nods, her wine dangling loosely between her fingers. “I had to make a career change recently and the construction company belongs to a friend of Fin’s. They needed someone to handle things that were primarily online and it just kind of grew from there. Once I realized I could sustain myself financially on what ended up only being around twenty hours a week, I knew I should be more driven and started researching who else might want a virtual assistant. That’s how I found Ophelia. She has one of those blogs that tells you what products to get for your baby.”
“Susie, that is so amazing.”
She shrugs, not looking too convinced. “I just know I need to work hard. Prove to myself and… my family. That I can make it on my own.”
I twist my body slightly so I’m facing her better. “I know it might sound stupid, but I’m so proud of you. It’s a hard thing to find a path for yourself, sometimes. I mean, I definitely struggle with it.” I let my fingers tap lightly against my glass, thinking about my own job, my uncertain future. I wish I could pick up and change things that easily. “You clearly have a really importantwhyand it shows.”
Her head tilts to the side. “Huh?”
“I hear people say it all the time on social media. Yourwhyis the reason behind the choices you make and what drives you forward. It might be because you want to make money, or need to support a grandparent, or want a better future for your kids.” I shrug. “It can be anything. I’m still trying to figure mine out, but it’s so awesome that you found that internal motivator and you’ve giving it everything you’ve got.”
She gives me a warm smile, and there’s something genuine and almost heartbreaking about how she looks at me. “Thank you,” is all she says.
I pick my glass back up and take a big sip, trying to figure out what to say next. But before I can think of anything, she jumps back in.
“Do you think you’ll stay working at the coffee shop? Or find something else?”
