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The elevator barely passed two floors before the doors opened and a group of ad men piled on. They ran the in-house creative and were loud, obnoxious, and not remotely as funny as they thought. One of them held the door to stop it from closing, not once, not twice, but three times before the errant member of the group stepped on board. He was tall, well dressed, and wore specs that reminded me of Marty McFly’s father. They were laughing, and the one who had held the door kept teasing the slow guy about holding me up, inconveniencing me, keeping me from my holidays. Before we all stepped out of the doors, Mr. Specs said to me, “You work in publicity, right? Are you heading over to the pub?”
I nodded. “I’m meeting some friends, yes.”
Mr. Specs said, “Good. I’ll buy you a drink for putting up with us on that ride. Want to walk over with us?”
“Thanks, I’m okay. I’ll wait for my friends.”
Backing out of the elevator, he smiled in the way good-looking men do, knowing they’re flirting, expecting your knees to grow weak, and waiting for the fawning to begin. Hard pass.
I sat down on one of the comfy leather chairs in the lobby to wait for Garrett and checked my BlackBerry. Mr. Specs and his friends left the building, and I breathed a sigh of relief. Garrett smacked the back of my head softly as he came up behind me. He pulled me off the chair by my arm and tucked it into his as we left the building to walk over to the pub in the almost dark of the December afternoon. My body reacted to him almost immediately. It always did, and then the guilt settled and I remembered myself—pulled away and kept a respectable distance between us. Garrett immediately launched into a list of movies he was going to send me to watch over the break so we could talk about them when we got back, a tradition we started years ago when we first discovered our mutual love of film.
“We’re doing sci-fi this year,” he said. “I’ve decided.”
Last year we did unsung classics, and I made him watchBadlands, which was my favorite movie of all time.
“But I’ll be able to rent them easily?” I asked. “Nothing obscure, right?”
Garrett closed the space between us and tossed his arm over my shoulders again. “Yes, it’s the one genre where you’re seriously lacking in your knowledge. I have a feeling you actively avoid it.”
“It’s not my favorite, I’ll admit. Outside ofStar Wars. Harrison Ford can do no wrong.”
His hand had slipped into my hair, and he squeezed my neck. And I flushed, happy we were in the cold for a moment, and my immediate moth-to-flame reaction to his touch was hidden.You’re mad at him, Kelly. He’s kept important shit from you, Kelly. You’re a good ego boost for him, Kelly.
I pulled away again and purposefully ignored Garrett’s confused look.You’re in big trouble, Kelly.
* * *
The pub around the corner from our office was filled to the brim with company people. Mr. Specs and his friends were already huddled around the lone pool table with a pitcher of beer. The dub department and its beautiful matron, Erica, were laughing in front of the fake fireplace. And all the various assistants, who banded together, had a giant group in the middle of the restaurant section. There were no tables left, so Garrett and I sat down on a couple of stools at the end of the bar, closest to the front door. I rested my back against the wall and sat facing him. He ordered us drinks—beer for him, cider for me—and I let him drone on about the planned home film festival as I quickly downed the pint. He was deep into an analysis of2001: A Space Odysseywhen the little voice in my head said,Don’t do it, Kelly. Don’t make it a big deal. But she was already tipsy and my mouth completely ignored the advice.
“You know, my shit week next week is all your fault,” I said, trying to make my voice light, jokey.
“With my sci-fi recommendations?” he said. “It’s not going to be that bad. Honestly, I think you—”
“Marianne.”
“Huh? What’s out of the ordinary about you being irritated by Marianne?”
“You’ve been holding out on me. You all went to high school together. Add to that the fact that you and Jen have been together since then, which is likeforever, and it feels like I don’t know you at all.”
“Kel, give me a break.”
The bartender turned his attention to us, and Garrett ordered two more drinks. He looked honestly upset. “We grew up together, and she and Jen were friends, but it’s not like we’re inseparable or anything. Jen still talks to her, but beyond seeing Marianne in the halls or when I’m coming to see you, I never talk to her. It’s not like we’re friend-friends. It’s not like us.”
“You always said you lived in Vancouver. And isn’t Banff, like, the smallest town in the history of all towns? The kind of place where everyone knows everyone? And you always told me that high school was something you couldn’t wait to escape from.”
Garrett sighed. “Youknowme. Marianne got me my job here, or, well, she referred me and got paid. That was the last we were ever really in touch outside of work. She knew I wanted to get into television, and she was already here with Cash. That’s it. You know everything.” He paused. “My parents moved to Vancouver after my dad got a job at the art gallery there—he used to run the Banff Centre. That’s why I went to university out there. Jen too.”
“You have listened to me complain horribly about Marianne for months, and you never said a thing.” The bartender delivered our second round of drinks and Garrett paid, again, and shifted his stool closer. He pressed his leg against mine and let me vent, but I could tell he was upset. “I’mawfulto her behind her back. But she’s Jen’s best friend or something from grade school and they’ve known each other forever.”
He didn’t say anything else for a moment. “She’s not my favorite person in the world. I tolerate her because she has proximity to my life.”
“You’re going to have to tolerate her a lot more in a few days,” I said. “She’s coming for dinner too. Oh, and she’s making dessert. Something totally healthy, but that tastes fabulous, and won’t we be so excited to finally eat the local apples she’s been saving for just such an occasion.”
I slipped my arms back into my coat and pulled my bag off the hook under the bar. “Have a great holiday. There’s Beth. I’m going to let her give you her good news. I’ve got to go.”
“Kelly.” He grabbed my arm. “Come on, why is this bothering you so much? Don’t go like this. We’re not going to see each other again until after the holidays. I’m going to miss you.”
He’s going to miss me.
