Burning Bridges

Burning Bridges-- Chapter 7

Her

"Flo, what do I do?" I spoke frantically into the speaker.

"Okay. How bad is it?"

"Terrible. Code Worse than peeing in your pants during a presentation."

"Oh, bloody hell."

So things got a little crazy last night after I left with Roger, I think. Why else would I end up in his bed? We went to his apartment, which was like really cool. He was definitely rich. Which kind of made sense, since he was a divorce lawyer in upper Manhattan. One drink led to another, and here I was.

He was still sleeping, thankfully. I could do some damage control. I looked in the mirror, I didn't look too bad. Except somehow my lipstick had smeared over my cheek. And it was waterproof. 

I jumped out from the bed, tiptoed to the bathroom. Crap, I looked like a clown. And clowns horrify me. I'm so scared of them, I never write about them either! 

Just as I was trying to find something to wipe my face with, I heard the door open. I froze. 

For a second, I wondered if it was Dan. Crap, Dan. I probably left him alone last night. Why couldn't I remember anything about last night?

"Oh, thank God it was you. I thought some burglar had barged in." Roger stood in the doorway, with an unbuttoned shirt from last night, (crap, last night) and an amused expression clouded his face. He didn't look that bad. Not bad at all. But he was probably the kind of guy who was a jock in high school, probably, and the kind who partied all weekend (and even weekdays) in college. 

Daniel was none of those things. Except for the good-looking part. My description of him will probably make him look like a typical mysterious emo bad-boy, but he was more than that. There were mysteries that I hadn't unraveled yet. And probably never will. 

I snapped back. Crap, he probably thought I was as lost as that girl from Twilight. What was her name again? Right, Bella. 

"Why would a burglar sneak into your apartment, at.." I glanced at my wrist, hoping to find a watch there. Seemed like it must have gotten lost, last night. "Well, in the morning." 

He laughed. And it was not an artificial laugh. It was one of those belly laughs. It made me want to go upto him, and have a belly laugh with him. On a beanbag. Together.

Gosh, what was wrong with me? Who fantasizes about being with another guy on a beanbag? 

"So, what do we do now?" He asked me. 

"Umm. I don't really know how these...things work. Do we have breakfast together? Do I put on my clothes and walk the walk of shame?" 

"Haha, me neither. See, since I'm a divorce lawyer, I know exactly why relationships go wrong. So I haven't really been in many relationships." 

"But you do these things...often?" I asked. He was probably that kind of a guy. It was okay. I didn't care. 

"Umm. That's kind of a direct question," he said, as he moved his gaze toward the apartment window. After a few seconds, he said, "To be totally honest with you, yes." 

"Oh." I said, as I made my way to the bedroom to put on the remainder of my clothes. 

"But it was different this time. I swear, Mandy." He said, as he followed me. I had written scenes like this millions of times in my unpublished novels, again and again, but then a murderer would jump out of the closet and stab both of them and laugh maniacally. 

"Yeah. Just promise me Dan won't find out about this." 

"Okay. Yeah, I promise." 

The last thing I saw before leaving was the closet. Waiting for a murderer to jump out. 

It had been 3 days. 3 days since I had last seen Dan. 3 days and I still had no job. It wasn't as if I was not qualified. It was just that none of the jobs seemed right. I found the whole idea of checking the newspaper for jobs kind of weird. Why not actually go out and explore? 

But sadly, I had not taken a shower in 2 days, and had been living solely on doritos and salads in boxes. I know, weird combination. I was done moping around. So what if all the boys suck? So what if Roger is a womanizer and Dan is never coming back? I can still find a job! 

I had a sudden bout of confidence. It was as if I had drank a whole bottle of Felix Felicis. Showered, put on my best woman-suit and set out to find a job. The whole thing sounds like something out of an animated movie, I know. But it was how I found my job, too. 

I found a job in an animated movie studio! My job was to edit scripts, which was kind of awesome. I know, it was still an animated movie studio, so I would have to modify the scripts to be more child-like, and restrain myself from putting any of my habitual-gore while editing, but I think I'll manage. 

I had just walked into an interview, and they were desperate, so I just told them my name and my qualifications (Masters in English Lit, Bacherlor's in graphic design) and the hiring person (who was also my boss, who was also a woman probably younger than me) just told me that I was in! 

I was desperate too, and the office and the whole thing seemed pretty legitimate. At that moment, I didn't care much about legitimacy, it was about the salary, which was better than what I had ever been offered. 

I treated myself to cotton candy ice-cream (which did not help my figure in any way) and was ready to call it a night, when I saw that I had gotten a text. From Daniel. 

He said that he was right outside my door.