Page 1 of Truth
RUNNING MY HANDS OVER THErectangular glass name placard on my desk, I can’t help but whisper my name,Drew Matthews, VP of Branding and Marketing,as I trace the etching.This was the glass ceiling, the one I ran toward at a million miles per hour until I shattered it at the Cohen Management Team. Damn, just looking at my name makes me bounce in my chair, kicking out my legs and wiggling my arms in silent celebration. I’m not sure I allowed myself to fully process the promotion; I’ve been trying so hard to act like I expected this, to never validate the idea that this really is a dream, a wild, fucking incredible dream come true.
I worked my ass off for this position and this corner office. I would’ve sold my grandma for this view alone. I definitely traded having any form of a life over the last ten years. When I started at this company right out of college, I knew I was going to have an uphill battle, but I’ve never been the kind of girl to shy away from a challenge. I refused to let anyone ignore my voice or take my success, so I guess they didn’t really have a choice but to give me this damn promotion. I decided it was mine years ago.
Relaxing back into my cool white leather chair, I throw my legs up onto my mahogany desk and look out at the city view. My view.
A knock at my door grabs my attention. “Come in.” Pulling my legs from the desk, I sit more formally as the door opens, bringing with it my best friend, Gretchen. She transferred two years ago to start working in marketing and alongside me.
“Holy shit! Drew, this view…these windows—it’s a whole wall. You have a fucking wall of windows. Damn girl, you did it.” Her happiness is contagious, and I stand, then walk around my desk to hug her. This is exactly why I love my best friend so much: she doesn’t know how to not be proud of me. Squeezing her tight, we turn and look out the windows in silence for a moment.
“I did it.” My voice is disbelief, not out of a lack of confidence but out of the surreal feeling that has me in its hold. It’s a rare occasion when your dreams come true. I feel shell-shocked but grateful that I dug in and stuck it out. I earned this—every square foot and piece of gold-leaf stationary is deserved—but it wasn’t without help.
“Gretchen, I’m about to do something else. It’s my first line of business as head of this department. You might want to sit down.” Her head swings so fast, I almost burst out laughing, but keep a serious look on my face. Walking to the desk, I lean my backside against it, motioning for her to have a seat in one of the chairs facing me.
“If you fire me, I will burn your office down.”She might.She’s a genius, no-nonsense but slightly crazy; it’s part of her charm like her foul mouth and addiction to cat videos.
“Shut up! I’m not firing you. I want you to be here, in these offices with me. You deserve to be here.” Seeing her face change as the understanding sinks in is priceless. “Your ideas are fresh and inventive, and that’s what badass chicks do…we lift each other up. So, what do you say? Director of Marketing sound good?”
“Hell yes!” Leaning out from the chair, she high-fives me, and I finally laugh. She rubs her hands conspiratorially. “Now we can go out for a double celebration? You can’t say no, not now. This is the one time we go out and celebrate. I’ll quit if you say no.” Smirking, she leans back into the plush chair, clearly loving her ultimatum.
“I’m so not saying no! I deserve this. Let’s go all out—it’s Friday after all.”
“Perfect. Meet later…your place?”
“Sounds like a plan, G.”
Walking out, she leaves me to finish getting myself settled into my new office and do some work I can’t neglect. The remainder of the afternoon flies by, and I rush home to get changed to meet Gretchen. This is exactly the night out I need. I’ve been so focused on this goal that my love life is nonexistent. It’s all about balance, I whisper to myself, smiling as I apply my red lip stain.
After locking my apartment door, I walk down the hall and push out of the doors of my building in Old Town, Chicago. I love this city, and tonight embodies why: the weather is perfect on this June night, even with the humidity; people are buzzing around, amped up for what Friday brings, their laughter finding rhythm with the music wafting down the street from the music venue and mixing with the smells teasing people from the pizza shops. Everything is alive and vibrant.
I look around for my bestie, who said she’d be here ten minutes ago.I love her, but the girl needs a better watch.Gretchen waves from the end of the block as she walks toward me. Waving back, I start toward her to meet in the middle. As we meet, I hook her arm. “I’m never leaving this neighborhood.”
“Absolutely, it’s the best.” She motions ahead, and we walk toward a cluster of restaurants and taverns just a block down. “But one day we will be in the suburbs with two kids each, planning playdates.” We both laugh in unison at her statement.
“Have you met me? I will be in this city with two kids and an assistant who plans my playdates, but for now, it would be great if I could just find a date to play with me.” Grimacing at my own pathetic date life, I’m met with her pursed-lips and an eye roll.
“Ha, yeah. Your lady parts need some loving for sure.” She motions her head to the bar just ahead as a question, and I nod yes as an answer to both.
“She does, she really does. I’m not sure I even remember how to flirt, Gretch.”
“It’s like riding a bike. If all else fails, just tell him you give good head.”
Coughing out of shock, I knock her shoulder with mine.
“Gretch! I am not telling some random guy I give good head.”
She shrugs and grins as if it was a perfectly reasonable idea.
“Or just tell him you want to see his dick,” she says, snapping her fingers and winking.
“What is wrong with you!” My eyes are tearing at her silliness, and we laugh as we walk in, finding a spot at the bar and surveying the spot. Gretchen leans in, asking me to order her martini as she leaves for the ladies’ room. I nod and grab the bar menu, still entertained by our banter while perusing the appetizers.Ooh, mini steak sliders.
The bartender walks up and places a napkin on the bar in front of me. “Hi, anything look good, or would you like a minute?”
“What would you recommend?” Looking up, I smile at the shaved-head hottie, taken by his sexy grin and brown eyes.
“Depends on what you’re up for…” Placing an elbow on the bar, he leans in.We are definitely not talking about food, or are we? Shit, I’m way too rusty. Is he flirting? Dammit, I need to answer…
“I like meat.” As soon as I say it, my eyes grow wide with embarrassment, exacerbated by the awkward look on the bartender’s face.
