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I draw the blinds and settle on the loveseat.
I’m pretty sure she’s fast asleep already. But I’ll stay a while just to be sure.
I could happily watch her sleep all night.
No one has ever needed me the way she needs me right now.
11
CHARLOTTE
My stomach churns as I call the elevator for the two floors down to Elliot’s office.
Thankfully, this time it’s from nerves and embarrassment, not because I’m about to become reacquainted with my last meal.
My phone pings twice in quick succession. The group text with Dan and Brody. First there’s a photo of Brody standing over a huge tub of baby turtles. He has a huge cheesy grin on his face.
BRODY (09:20 AM)
Feel like a new dad!
DAN (09:20 AM)
Charl would have them categorized, color-coded, and their lives plotted out in planners in three seconds.
Still delicate from the vomiting and slightly nauseated from lack of food and the dread of facing Elliot, I am not in the mood for Dan’s sarcasm.
ME (09:21 AM)
If I hadn’t learned how to plan our lives after Mom left, none of us would be where we are right now.
Totally true. If I hadn’t taught myself how to keep all our shit together, goodness knows what would have become of us.
I guess they were too young and too wrapped up in themselves to realize it, but it was a fuckload of responsibility for me to take on as a teenager. So they can give me as hard a time as they like for the planner obsession it spawned, because that’s how I got us through it.
DAN (09:22 AM)
Sorry. Will make it up to you with an extra big breakfast.
Since Dan moved to New York, we made it a policy to have breakfast together once a month. His idea, and something I always look forward to. Those guys are such great company, even if they do push my buttons occasionally.
But right now the thought of bacon, eggs, and waffles makes my guts clench.
Where the hell is this elevator? I stab at the button in frustration.
Christ, what a total mess I was yesterday evening.
And what a total sweetheart Elliot was.
My memory is a little foggy about everything after the first barf into his recycling bin, but I do remember how kind he was to me. And he could not have been more respectful. The man undressed me, for God’s sake, and I do recall how much care he took to preserve my modesty.
But how did I repay him? By yanking his face into my puke breath zone and telling him he has nice arms.
I told him he has nice arms.
Every time I recall that little gem, I feel like quitting my job and moving to Alaska—a remote part of it, on top of a mountain with unscalable sides—just to be sure I never bump into him again.
But there’s no time to waste squirming with humiliation. I put my life on hold for others for a long time, and am now finally on the brink of my big opportunity. I need to get this launch ready and make sure Elliot’s presentation is up to snuff so Max will give me a better job. Perhaps I could persuade him to purchase a business in Denali National Park for me to run.
