Pray for the Wicked

Chapter One

"Beasley, take this down to marketing and tell them we need it done yesterday." My boss says, slamming a portfolio onto my desk. "And they better not give me lip this time! I've had enough whining and complaining from Davey; if he doesn't want to work here he can quit."

"Right away, sir," I say, grabbing the book and standing up. He walks away in a huff and as soon as he's out of sight, I give the finger to the air where he was.

"You tell him, Cam!" Rachel, the girl in the cubicle beside me, laughs. I glare at her, but I can't help but smile a little bit. Our boss is the biggest dick alive and everyone at our company knows it.

I make my way down to the marketing wing and pop my head into Nick Davey's cubicle. "Hey man, Dick wants you to send this through ASAP." Nick rolls his eyes but takes the portfolio and adds it to his already giant stack of paperwork.

"I'll get right on that." He sighs. "Oh, hey!" He adds as I'm about to walk away. "Are you going to Sam's party tonight? It's supposed to be a real rager." He looks hopefully up at me and I scrunch up my face.

"I'm not really a party kind of gal ..." I can see the disappointment in his eyes and it wears me down. "Alright, I'll go." Nick's eyes light up and he grins.

"Awesome! We can carpool if you want? I'll swing by, say, 7?" I don't want to be rude so I nod and say it sounds like a plan.

As I walk back to my cubicle, I go over what I have in my closet. Nothing I can think of seems party-worthy. I can't very well wear a blazer and slacks to a 'rager', as Nick called it. That sounds more like an occasion for a short skirt and a tight top; not that I own anything of the sort. I guess I'll have to pick something up on my way home from work ...

"Hey Rach," I say walking into Rachel's cubicle. "Are you going to marketing Sam's party tonight?" She looks at me over the ridge of her glasses and smirks.

"Who told you about that?" My mouth falls open in defence.

"What's that supposed to mean?" 

"Nothing," Rachel laughs, nudging me with her elbow. "You're just not the person I thought would know about that sort of thing." Fair enough. As I said, I'm not a party girl. "But of course I'm going. Sammy boy is the best party planner I know, plus free booze."

"Well Nick Davey just asked me to go, but I don't have anything to wear. Do you think you could help me out?" I plead. Rachel claps her hands together excitedly and squeals.

"I know just the thing!"

*******

At three o'clock on the dot, Rachel's head bobs above my cubicle wall and she grins. "Ready to go?" 

I shut off my computer and grab my purse. "You better not dress me like a prostitute," I say as Rachel drags me out to the parking lot.

"Would I do that?" She feigns offence but is clearly struggling to hide a smile. "Come on, we only have four hours until Nick picks you up." When she says Nick, she singsongs it like a schoolgirl. If there were people around I'd be embarrassed, but luckily it's just the two of us.

"Okay," I sigh and get into her car. "Where to first?" 

"I called my girl Carina and she can fit you in for a cut and style at 4:00. She's the best! Lots of famous people go to her." That sounds expensive, but I don't argue because Rachel can be kind of scary when she gets like this. "So first we'll go get you a manicure, because girl ..." She looks at my nails in disgust and I pull my hand away self consciously.

"Hey! I don't exactly always have time for extreme self-care." I say in defence. I have no clue how Rachel can do it. She always looks so flawless. Sometimes I wonder if she ever sleeps.

40 minutes later, Rachel and I have beautiful french tipped fingers. "See, don't they look so much better now?" She winks at me and leads me next door to the hair salon. I have to admit, having nice nails makes me feel just a bit more confident. I don't know what it is about it. Maybe it's because I could cut a bitch with the flick of my wrist?

When Carina sees Rachel, she squeals. "Rachey!" The two grown women hug like teenaged girls and Carina explains that she'll be right with us as soon as she's finished cutting her current customer's hair.

I look over at the customer. All I can see is the back of a man's head. He has dark brown hair and it looks like Carina is in the middle of styling it back for him. That's what I call laziness. Why couldn't he do that himself? I sit down in a waiting chair next to Rachel, who has picked up a trashy magazine.

"Oh my god! Katy Perry is having Orlando Bloom's baby!" She screams. All I can do is shake my head at her. There are so many other more important things happening in the world, and yet this is what she fixates on. 

Finally, Carina pats the man on the shoulders and smiles. "You're all set, Mr. Urie." The man stands up and turns to face me. My jaw must be on the floor right now because the man standing before me was my childhood best friend.

"Brendon?" I gasp. His head whips to look at me and he looks just as surprised as I feel.

"Oh my god, Cammy!" He cries, rushing at me and engulfing me in a bear hug. "It's been what? Ten years?" I push myself out of his arms, remembering what he did.

"Yeah, roughly," I grunt, folding my arms across my chest. He looks confused at my reaction.

"Hey, what's wrong?" He asks, placing a hand on my shoulder. I shrug it off and continue to glare at him. "You can't still be mad?"

"Ohhhhh, can't I?" I scoff, pushing him out of my way. "I'm on a clock right now, excuse me." 

Carina gives me a questioning look, but sits me down in the chair and starts on my hair. She trims it and pulls it back into a dutch braid. It's professional and strangely suits my face. When she's finished, I thank her and reach for my purse but she shakes her head. "No need, Rachel already got it." I can feel my cheeks go pink in embarrassment. This girl seriously paid for a manicure and hair cut? I have to find a way to repay her ...

"Wow, your hair looks amazing, Cam." Brendon is still in the waiting room and I stare daggers at him.

"Can you not take a hint? Or are you just that much of an asshole?" I ask through clenched teeth. Rachel gapes at me like I have two heads and Brendon looks wounded but merely shrugs.

"I guess I'll see you, then." He pouts, shuffling out the door. God! He's a grown man, can he act like it? We're not twelve anymore.

"You're mean!" Rachel gasps in surprise as soon as the door closes.

"No, he just really hurt me." I protest, looking down at my feet. "I don't want to talk about it, can we just go?" She nods and says a quick goodbye to Carina, who still looks taken aback by my outburst. We exit the salon and get back into Rachel's car. "I don't even want to go to this stupid party now."

"Hey, grumpy, chill," Rachel says emphatically. "Don't let a man get you down. You're young, hot and single. Try and have a good night with Nick," she winks when she says his name and I let out a small giggle. "Maybe you'll get lucky ..." I make a face at her. Nick is definitely not my type. Even if he was, I have a rule about dating at work. What if it didn't work out? Then the rest of our careers would be so awkward.

"Hell to the no. Let's just focus on getting trashed and go from there." I laugh. Somehow, Rachel has gotten me back in a good mood. I knew there was a reason I kept her around!