Page 2 of New Girl in the City
‘Loud’I texted back, shouldering open the gleaming glass and chrome door to Walden and Pierce Public Relations. The building was formative, prominent against the skyline of SoHo. There was no mistaking the distinctive Art Nouveau architecture that marked the building as apart. It was a little bit of magic in this neighborhood, as far as I was concerned.
‘But caffeinated,”I added, hurrying up the stairs and towards my office.‘I have meetings all morning. How's life with your dreamboat?’
‘Grosssssss. Meetings are terrible.And we’re making pancakes!’
An incoming photo showed Grant pouring pancakes into a pan while Aurora smiled and gave me a thumbs up. I grinned looking down at the photo. Aurora deserved to be happy, she’d been through enough with her asshole of an ex-husband. Knowing that she was happy and cared for, secure in her place with Grant and their life together had made it significantly easier to leave Colorado. I don’t think I would have been able to move without knowing my best friend was happier than she’d ever been.
‘Pure domestic bliss. You two absolutely sicken me. <3<3’
‘We’re adorable and you know it.’
‘Oh, to the nth degree. I love it. I love you in all your domestic glory.’
I entered my office and deposited my bag onto the desk with a thud. There were two sticky notes from my assistant already waiting on top of my keyboard.
Meeting at 8 am! Head of Arington Press/Paris!
I sighed muffling a curse. I had meant to brush up on my French, but I’d gotten the day confused. I thought I had until Monday to expand my repertoire pastVoulez Vous Coucher Avec Moi?I snatched up the sticky and glanced at my clock to see that I had a cool half an hour to prep before the video call. I glanced at the other sticky note to see that it was a reminder of the company wide regular Friday lunch with our CEO.
Lunch with Boss man!
It was a regular get together our firm did. One of those mandatory fun events that came with a pretty tasty spread and a chance at socialization. Since moving to New York my social life was...lacking.Friends were even harder to come by, but I had managed to become friendly with several of my colleagues thanks to the Friday lunches. My stomach rumbled. I hoped there would be sushi this time-or pasta. I loved pasta. Okay, I loved carbs, who was I kidding?
“This is what I get for skipping breakfast,” I muttered, sliding into my leather seat with a frown. I’d stayed up way too late binge watching my newest reality television obsession. But it had to be done. There was no way the universe could dangle the temptation of real estate drama and not expect me to jump. I mean, I got to consider verandas and kitchens far beyond anything in my budget, plus watch a delightful human train wreck? A train wreck that wasn’t me or my life either. I pursed my lips and shook my head.
“It’s not like I’m doing that badly,” I said, fingers already moving over the keyboard answering an email. “Be nicer to yourself,” I reminded myself with a definite snap of my finger on the computer keys. Yes, it was true that I was feeling a little lonely lately, and that my little lower Manhattan apartment for all its chicness and floor-to-ceiling views of the Hudson was...quiet more often than not.
My fingers flexed against my keyboard and I could practically feel my eyes narrow as I thought over my life in New York City. I should be living it up, out every night, eating at the most adventurous spots in town, seeking out little shops with one-of-a-kind items, meeting new people that I didn’t work with. Was I doing any of that?
No. It was a big fat damn no. I was not doing any of that.
I felt like I’d lost that certain something that had every day in my small mountain town feeling like an adventure. Then I had been happy for the day and whatever it had brought with it, but now? Now, I had New York City and all her awesomeness at my fingertips and I was faded, shrinking into someone that only went to work, coveted carbs at the company lunch, considered a reality show full of wild ass people I couldn’t even say weren’t scripted a highlight of my socialization for the week, and well, was best friends with her driver.
My head dropped forward with a defeated slump of my shoulders. Walter should not be my best friend. I mean, the man was beyond awesome, cool as hell and funnier than anyone had a right to be first thing in the morning, but you know....
He was paid to be nice to me.
“Youch,” I whispered, my hand flying to my chest at that one. “Not pulling any punches today are you, Pérez?”
But I’d never been kind to myself. That was the only way I’d overachieved—constant anxiety, always pushing forward, pretending to be carefree because it was just easier. Melinda Pérez, anxiety ball and all-around hard ass to herself. That was me. Which meant, of course, I had stayed up trying to forget my problems by watching three grown adults fight over a listing with more bathrooms than I had fingers and toes, until the early hours of the morning.
I did regret missing breakfast though. It was my favorite meal of the day, and a terrible price to pay for anxiety spiraling. I blew out a sigh and patted my stomach. Maybe I could sneak out and snag a muffin...or three, after my video call. Yet, this pitiful feeling in my stomach wasn’t just hunger, it was downright anxiety eating away, demanding that I feed it. I almost wagered on making a break for the snack station just down the hallway, that magical little spot that had fresh baked goods and snacks available for staff to snag while in between meetings, but a glance towards the clock told me no dice.
I had to figure out more than a shakybonjourin less than 10 minutes. All baked goods or snack emergencies were going to have to take a back seat to whatever Rosetta Stone could teach a girl in a few clicks. With a sigh I opened a new browser and pulled up a primer on French. If nothing else, I would be able to at least embarrass myself endearingly enough to the Head of Arington Press.
I could work with endearing.
