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"What is that? Are you judging me Ella? I didn't take your little article, but I could have at any point. I wouldn't feel bad about it in the least. This is the bottom of the barrel and if you think that I'm not going to use everything I can to get out of it you're crazy. Also don't think that just because you're running around with the elite and powerful you're somehow better than all of us. You're still right here along with the rest of us. Percy Snow isn't your fucking Superman and you're not Lois Lane. Once you finish whatever it is you think you're doing, you'll be right here at this desk or better yet, home trying to figure out where you went wrong." Larry stares me up and down before he walks away.
The audience around me doesn't disperse, instead I watch as they lean in to each other and whisper. The name Percy Snow muttered low enough for me to hear several times. I'm making a mistake, I have to be and I'm out of my league. So much for keeping it under wraps that I'm working on a story about Percival Snow. If people weren't jumping down my throat before to find out what I know then they will be now. One part of Larry's spiel really sticks in my craw, he’d compared Percy and I to Superman and Lois Lane. Oh hell no! I don't need saving, I need perspective.
I can't call Percy and talk to him about this since there's a chance he still may be against me publishing the article in the first place. He's not going to be objective about it. I can't talk to Sam about it either, because I know for sure he's just going to tell me that Larry and Ursula are talking out of their asses. That leaves out everyone here that would even know anything about what it's like in the journalism business. There's only one person I can go to and I hope she will take what I'm telling her seriously and really give me some good advice. Though I'm sure her advice is going to involve the two of us imbibing on copious amounts of fruity drinks.
It's times like this I'm so freaking happy I have a best friend like Carrie.
29
ella
"You knowit's a little early to be drinking right?" I sit back in the wooden chair while Carrie swipes through her phone. She's supposed to be working right now. However, the minute I had called and told her that I needed some advice she was on her way.
"They're mimosas, it's never too early for mimosas." She shrugs and puts her phone down on the table. "Do you think that asshole Larry really was looking for your article?" She sips some of the orange concoction.
"I think so. But I know he didn't get it, because it was in my hand the entire time." My mind is a complete mess after everything that both Larry and Ursula had said to me. This story is going to be great. I can feel it in my bones, but is it going to be worth it after the fact? "Carrie, maybe I need to do what everyone else in the writer's pit does. Maybe I need to go chasing after rappers and B list movie stars? Am I getting too big for my britches?"
"Britches? I don't even know what the hell those are. But as skinny as you are I'm positive you're not too big for anything." She winks at me and I scoff in reply. "No, seriously. Ella you're the bomb when it comes to all that journalist crap. For someone whose job it is to spread other people's secrets you do it with class and respect. I don't want you to do anything that you don't want to do. So, if you think publishing this article is going to hurt you, for sure don't do it. But if you're only holding back because of what other people are going to think or what might happen in the future, don't babe." Carrie reaches over and grabs hold of my hand. She squeezes it gently and I bask in the support.
"Now, is that why you dragged me all the way down here?" Carrie pulls her hand away and gestures with her thumb out the window. In a fit of complete self-doubt I’m sure that if Carrie were to parrot what I had heard everyone else say I'd just go right up to Percy and tell him the whole deal is off. I don't want him to think that the only reason I'm with him is for this article.
"I did. Besides, I'm supposed to meet up with Percy this afternoon. He texted me earlier asking me to an early dinner." A soft smile curls on my face and I look down pushing the napkin I've already ripped to shreds around in front of me. Everytime I think of Percy I have some reason to smile. If it were happening to anyone else I'd think it sickening.
"Ewww. You're adorable." Carrie laughs and takes another sip of her mimosa.
"You're adora—" My words get caught in my throat as I stare outside the window to see Camille walking out of Percy's work building. Last night was embarrassing for the both of us, but I do remember Percy telling me that Camille has been trying to claim him for years. What reason would she have to be at his job unless she's still trying to push her luck.
"Who's that?" Carrie asks and my head whips back in her direction.
"Hmm, oh no one."
"Bull ... all the smiles are gone and your face is bright red. You know her. Who's that?" Carrie asks, a fixed look on her face as she waits for me to tell her the truth.
"Her name is Camille. Apparently she's had a thing for Percy a while now. She wasn't the nicest person last night at the event. She made it seem like Percy wouldn't want someone like me. I put her in her place, but I'm not sure what she's doing here and I'm not too keen on finding out either." A cold sweat prickles at the skin on the back of my neck when Camile crosses the street in my direction. There's no way that she’d know that I'm in here.
"Good thing for you I can find out for both of us." Carrie flings her napkin down and bounces out of her chair.
No! Oh God no!
My legs refuse to work and even when I open my mouth to scream at Carrie to stop, nothing comes out, but a few bird-like squeaks. After a few seconds, my legs decide to work with me to stop the train wreck that's about to happen right in front of me.
I race out the door, ignoring the waitress as she calls out for me. We haven't paid our bill. I hope she calls the cops, I'd rather deal with that humiliation than deal with Carrie and Camille going against each other.
Standing right at the door, Carrie has somehow managed to stop Camile and is already giving her the third degree.
"I heard you had a lot of things to say about my best friend last night." Carrie tilts her head to the side, waiting for Camile to answer. Camille is wearing what I'm sure is thousands of dollars in designer clothes. I recognize the Prada bag and the Christian Dior pumps I had seen in this month’s Vogue. She's perfectly polished and looks like the exact type of person that should be on the arm of Percy Snow. Carrie isn't fazed in the least.
"I beg your pardon? I haven't the slightest clue what you're talking about. I'll have you know I have no reason to engage in mindless gossip about anyone." Camile flips her hand dismissing Carrie.
"Be that as it may, I hear you still have a hard on for my bestie's man. She may not want to bring anymore attention to this matter, but I want to, I can, and I will. Percy Snow is off limits."
Camile continues to stare, but her eyebrows twitch slightly. She must have gotten work done recently, because her face barely moves. I don't know if she's surprised, angry, or having a stroke.
"Percy Snow?" Camile leans to the side and sees me behind Carrie. "Ah, I wouldn't have ever noticed you back there. My eyes tend to pass over trash." She smirks at me and the gesture moves me from behind Carrie. I might not have wanted to get back into this, but I'm not just going to sit back and let her disrespect me.
"Excuse me? If there's anyone here to be compared to trash, it's you." I snap back at her.
"Please, how childish can you be? It seems you sent your minion over here to find out what I was doing across the street." Camile steps closer, her long bird-like nose pointing down at my short frame. "I went to see Percy. I was so very upset by the way we left things off last night that I just had to come over here to apologize. If he's so off limits why is it he invited me for lunch? Why is it that he allowed me to stay for hours with him privately in his office? Why is it that I'm going to meet him at his house tomorrow while you're at work? Percy isn't yours. He may be testing the waters where you are, but I promise you very very soon he will be back with me. Where he belongs, and you will be out like last week's trash."
