Love Me Harder (18+ Only)

Part 4

“Girl, you look like a mess!”

Why don’t we just hand Lara the Captain Obvious award this morning? If my head wasn’t throbbing like a never ending rage party I would have vehemently agreed. The dark Chanel glasses had one job. One job! To look so utterly stunning that no one would notice I was hung over, woke up late, didn’t have time to do my hair (hence messy side bun to the rescue) and an accidental no makeup look. I might have to return these stupid glasses.

“I told you I had a headache yesterday, Lara.” I dumped my purse on my desk and my pink pea coat joined it in seconds.

Lara is twenty-one, a fresh graduate, very eager to please. She reminds me of myself when I first got this job 4 years ago. The only difference is Lara is exquisitely beautiful, tall with long wavy brown hair, olive-skinned and bright green eyes. I secretly seethe in envy as she parked her pert ass on my desk, her sleek legs enhanced by her honey-colored skirt. Okay. I admit. She is in my list of “girls I’d fuck if I were gay”. “How come you seem even worse than when you left?”

“Because.” I can’t tell her I went out with a hot guy. She has a mouth on her and frankly, I don’t need whispers going around in the office about me. “I didn’t get enough sleep last night.”

Her coral lips pouted in sympathy. “Poor baby. Well I forgive you for leaving me with the dragon lady. I’m doing a coffee run in a few, same for you?”

“Yes, please! Thank you, sweetie.”

I had to drag my eyes away from her bouncy butt as she headed out the door. In 30 minutes said dragon lady would be in and I had to make myself presentable. Quickly, I swiped on red lipstick, couple sweeps of blush, lined and mascara’ed my lashes so by the time my skinny caramel latte extra foam landed on my desk, I looked like a human being.

“Makeup fixes everything.” Lara, the queen of Obvious kingdom. “You look amazing.”

“Go to your desk and pretend you’re working. She’ll be here any minute now.”

Gina walked into the office so Lara started furiously typing on her keyboard. Clackety-clack-clack. I felt bad for the damn thing. My boss for four years raised her eyebrow at me as I handed her the venti cappuccino she needed to function for the day.

“Good to see you’re back,” she told me, before she took a swig of the beverage. “My office. Now.”

The typing stopped.

“Just Gwen.”

Clackety-clack-clack.

I nodded and followed her, closing the door behind me.

“I need you to fire her.”

“Who? Lara? No. Why?”

Gina wasn’t really as bad as she wants people to think she is. She’s just tough. She’s demanding, a perfectionist, brutally honest and has a truly bitchy resting face. She’s also my only female friend. “I cannot stand her.”

“Just because she’s extremely fuckable doesn’t mean she’s horrible.” Did I mention Gina’s gay?

“She’s not THAT fuckable.” What a liar. “Fine I’ll give her another week.”

Same argument every week for the past nine weeks. Lara has job security for life. “You should ask her out.”

“Not my type.” She was checking her emails, her gray eyes focused on the monitor. Perfect opportunity to be distracted.

My phone tells me I have no voicemails, 5 comments on my Facebook status, 2 new likes on Instagram and zero texts. Why hasn’t he texted me yet? He kissed me. That must mean he likes me, right? But all he did was walk me to my door and say goodnight. There was a numb pain in my back probably from all the tossing and turning I had to do overanalyzing one stupid little kiss. There wasn’t even any tongue!

“Gwen! Could you at least pretend to be working for me even for five minutes?” The bitchy tone is very authentic, by the way.

I shoved the phone into my bra. “What now?”

She rolled her eyes. “I asked if you knew about this movie they’re filming on Mercer Island.”

“I saw some tweets. Isn’t that reality starlet Fiona Abrahms in it? Her biggest role ever or something like that.”

“I would like to do a piece on it, not something about the movie directly but how they chose Mercer Island, maybe a photo spread. That would be perfect.”

“Uh-huh.” I glanced down at my bra as my phone vibrated. New comment. Why do I care if he texts or not?

“A short article, maybe an interview with the locals would go well with the photos.”

My skirt is really tight. It needs to be at least 3 inches shorter. I think I have a stapler in my desk that would fix that. Then when my shirt is 3 inches shorter, I’d take another picture and post it on IG. I bet Adam followed me last night.

“Gwendolyn Morrow! Are you paying attention to me?”

“Yes, of course!”

“I’m giving you an assignment. I want you to write a 500-word accompaniment article about Mercer Island.” Gina’s eyes are now focused on me, her hands folded on her desk slightly twitching in excitement.

For a brief moment I completely forgot about my phone or my skirt or flirting with my next door neighbor. “Are you kidding me?”

“I think it’s about time you do some real actual work for the magazine.”

My heart lurched and I leapt to my feet. I wrapped my arms around my boss, my friend also known as the dragon lady with the bitchy resting face. “Thank you! I won’t let you down, I promise!”

“There’s still logistics to talk about. It might be in the issue after this next one but I believe you’ll do a great job.”

Things seem to be going my way. This is when things go bad. There, I double jinxed it.