Page 11 of New Girl in the City
“I like to keep a busy schedule.”
“It’s too early for such hijinks,” she shot back, opening the door to her office and walking in.
“Fair point,” I sniffed and then relented. “Yes, I went on the site last night.”
“And?” She waved a hand at me, urging me to go on when I said nothing else.
“And what?”
“Melinda Bianca Pérez. I swear to God. Tell me the fucking details, or else.” She pointed down at the chair in front of her desk with a decisive jab of her finger. “Now sit and talk.”
I sat. “Fine, jeez. You can be kind of scary, Claudia.”
“Good. Now talk.”
“All right, all right. Listen, the men on there are hot as hell. Fine as fuck, even. And they are messaging moi.” I tapped a finger against my chest and Claudia whooped in excitement.
“This is what I’m talking about.”
“One of them invited me to an art show and I’m going.”
She gave me an assessing look. “An art show, huh? Be careful with them art boys. They like to be romantic and shit, but it’s a phase.”
“He’s in finance but does art some of the time. I don’t know what that means, because if you’re an artist aren’t you just an artist and it’s like...all the time?”
“Yeah, I think. I don’t know because I can’t art.”
I nodded. “Same but he’s a 10/10 on the would do sex to chart.”
“Then go to the art show.”
“Exactly.”
“Okay, so it went good? And you have two months on there, so that’s plenty of time for you to find a prince charming.”
“I’ve been here two months. I feel like anything could happen in two months so yes, we will say you are right. I could find prince charming.”
“I love the optimism. And you’re right. Anything could happen in two months. I could be in Colorado in two months.” She turned to her computer and began typing on it. No doubt sending her resume to Claire. I groaned.
“Don’t make me think of losing another friend but yes, you could be in Colorado. And if you are, I will love that for you, but miss you.
She leaned around her monitor. “What do you mean, another friend? Who left? Who do you know?” she asked, and I winced at the sting of that but said nothing.
“Walter.”
“Who’s Walter?”
“My driver, or I guess ex driver,” I corrected myself.
“Does this have anything to do with what you were muttering about earlier?”
“Yeah, his replacement is a real fucking peach.” I told her what had happened earlier, down to the excessive use of Ma’am, me throwing a coffee and him telling me he wasn’t my friend and that I was a ‘spoiled princess’. When I was done she leaned back in her chair and nodded.
“Okay, but that’s a New York driver. It’s normal.”
“No, it’s not. Walter was pretty much my best friend here and he was my driver.”
“Then you were blessed by an angel because drivers are hit and miss. Sounds like the new guy is just, like you said, an asshole. But if he’s on time then you can’t complain too much.”
