Page 37 of The Frog Prince
We all have tasks, plenty to do, and we return to our desks with a sense of renewed purpose.
Fifteen minutes later, Olivia stops by my desk and stands there for a moment without saying a word. I was just grouping my files on my desk, and so I organize a second longer, waiting for her to start.
As the silence grows, I feel her disappointment. I’ve let her down. Something’s happened. I can’t help my reaction, but my stomach knots, and I feel terrible. Olivia’s been really good to me, extremely supportive. I don’t want to upset her.
I look up at her, battling dread.
She meets my gaze, holds it. “You never did use the guest membership at my gym.”
Is that it? My legs feel weak. “It’s been hectic.”
“It’ll always be hectic. You have to make time for yourself.” She extends a hand, points to my Day-Timer. “Open your calendar; schedule gym time now.”
“I will.”
“Do it now.” And she waits, giving me no alternative but to reach for my Day-Timer, and as I do so, I uncover my notepad.
Olivia’s eyes narrow; her gaze settles on the chunky notepad with the City Events logo on top.
She’s reading what I’ve written. “You’ve talked with Brian?”
“Trying to reach him,” I answer, as she can see the name Brian Fadden, “Features Editor,” written in big block letters, followed by a phone number.
“That’s not his direct line,” she says. “That’s the main switchboard number.”
“I’m hoping the switchboard will put me through.”
“They won’t. Not to Brian. They’ll send you to voice mail, or another journalist who will just screen you.” Olivia curves her finger, gestures for me to follow. “Come, I’ve got his direct line. He hates calls from us, but once he’s on the phone, he won’t hang up. At least not immediately.”
In her office she scribbles down a number and hands the sheet of paper to me. “You know, he’s single again.”
“That’s nice.”
“He’s attractive.”
“You said the same thing about Lehman.”
“I didn’t. That was Aimee, and she was drunk off her ass.”
“Still not interested.”
“You might change your mind if you actually met him.”
“I doubt it.” I glance at the paper, see the number, feel like a traitor. She doesn’t even know why I want to call Brian Fadden in the first place. “But thanks.”
“Now do me a favor.”
I look at her, and she’s serious. “Get yourself to the gym. Do twenty, thirty minutes solid cardio. Try the weights”—and she lifts a finger when it appears I’ll interrupt. “It’s not just good for the bod, girl. It’s good for the head.”
“Got it.”
She smiles, and I leave. But instead of returning immediately to my desk, I walk on shaky legs to the little kitchen we have at the back of the loft, make myself a cup of inoffensive herbal tea, and lean against a counter, still trembling, staring out at nothing.
Things are starting to get complicated. My personal life has always been confusing, but at least work was simple. Straightforward. Show up, do a good job, go home. But it’s not just about doing a good job anymore. It’s about putting myself out there, committing myself to something I shouldn’t have.
Olivia will be so angry…
Tessa won’t keep it a secret…