Page 13 of Love & Other Disasters

Five

Violet spent the weekend doing zilch, living off Tylenol and sleep. Monday morning, she booted up the computer and waited on the sign- in screen, her phone vibrated with another incoming message from Elle. She hadn’t texted this much, in, well, forever. Apparently, J.P. asking Brent to have Elle pass his number on to her… well, Katia… was too much excitement. And now Elle wouldn’t leave it alone, and Violet had the number of a man she could never call. A dull ache teased her neck, a sign of another headache coming on.

“Violet,” Poppy Wallace sidled into her cubicle, a conspiratorial grin on her round face. The accounting manager studied her. “You okay?”

“Yeah. What can I do for you?” Violet inwardly groaned.

Poppy looked around the sparse room in the early morning, leaning in. “There’s a rumor going around that Ed’s leaving.” Ed the Director of Finance, her boss. “And I’m going after that job. I deserve it. If I get it, then I will make you the accounting manager. You on board?”

“You can do that?” Violet whispered. It’d been five years without so much as a hint of a promotion. Then to become a manager? That would be incredible.

“I would be the director, so yes.”

She managed a nod, and Poppy smiled and disappeared. Ed was leaving? Yes, she wanted to move forward in the company, gain more responsibility, and a larger paycheck. But they couldn’t handle Poppy as the director.

Violet’s phone vibrated, again, this time a call from Elle.

“I don’t have time for this,” she answered. “Don’t you have an entire company depending on you to do your job?”

“And I’d get to it if you’d quit ignoring my texts.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“Respond.”

“With what? There’s nothing I can do here. I can’t call him. He thinks I’m Katia, remember?”

“You can at least tell me what you did to that man, cause he’s blown up Brent’s phone”

Violet squeezed her eyes shut, another headache coming on.

“You must be a sorceress in bed,” she continued. “And then to sneak out of his room—”

“Can we not recap this, please?”

“Fine. Just making sure I got the story straight from what Brent got out of him. What was it? Are you great at blow jobs?”

“I’m hanging up now.” Pressing the end button, she slid the phone across the desk. If she’d given him her actual name, none of this would have ever happened. The phone buzzed again. Nope, she did not need this madness in her life. But this time the phone screen showed a text from her drama queen sister, Jill. Did no one else work?

Jill: What’s up with you? You were acting weird last night.

The Murphy family Sunday dinner had been a tradition since she and Jill left home. It was tedious at the best of times. Still under the effects of a hangover made it impossible.

Violet: Nothing.

Jill: Mom’s convinced you’re sick.

Violet: Why can’t I be tired without something major being wrong?

Jill: Ask mom.

Violet was the only one to give in to everyone to keep the peace, and she’d tired of the dynamic to be honest.

Violet: I’m fine. Let me get to work.

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