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Working with Sandy has become the highlight of my workdays.
She is scheduled to stay here for a week, but with so much going on, I convinced Haden we need her longer. He argued about the cost of accommodations and not feeling confident the team at Indie Press can manage themselves, but Sandy convinced him otherwise, and he ended up approving her extended stay.
Despite our heavy workload, we chat in between, reminiscing about college life, including the fun we used to get up to, a time where everything was so simple unlike the complicated lives we currently lead.
“Do you remember the time we ran naked through the quad on a dare by those mean girls?”
I laugh, dipping my chin to cover the creep flushing across my cheeks from embarrassment. How irresponsible I once was.
“There aren’t many things I can say I wish never happened in my life, but that’s definitely one of them.”
“It was fun, remember?” Sandy grins, taking a sip of her latte.
“Yeah, until I got my period halfway through the run.”
Sandy almost spits out the warm liquid, coughing loudly. “God, how could I forget?”
“I don’t know.” Laughter continues to roll from my mouth as I try to get my words out. “I certainly didn’t forget.”
Our giggling is interrupted by Clint, standing at the door demanding our attention. As always, he is dressed impeccably from head to toe in his designer shirt and jeans.
“Good morning, ladies.” He raises his wrist, checking his watch. “My apologies, good afternoon. Time sure does fly when you’re taking a trip down memory lane.”
I ignore his snarky comment. Clint is an attention whore at the best of times. Great at what he does professionally, needy as a single gay friend who has no boyfriend to keep him occupied.
“I’ve booked our usual Friday lunch at Nobu. Are you ready to go?”
Shit. I’d promised Sandy I would take her out to this great place that serves these deep-fried pickles similar to the ones we used to binge on while cramming for finals. I know she is staying at a hotel close by, and I am already feeling terrible she spends most nights eating alone.
“I’m sorry, Clint, I promised Sandy I’d take her to lunch. You know, show her a bit of LA.”
His eyes glance sideways, avoiding me with a disappointed expression on his perfectly manscaped face. “Oh, I see.”
Sandy raises her brows at me, silently questioning what we should do. I know Clint looks forward to our Friday gossip session, but I don’t want to let Sandy down either. Torn between the two, I remain quiet.
“You know what, I’ve heard Nobu is great. If you don’t mind me joining the two of you, I’d love to check it out?” Sandy offers.
Clint shifts his gaze back onto us as I rein in my disappointment. As much as I love Clint, I grow tired of the nonsense gossip, and I was looking forward to being alone with Sandy, away from the office. She has a way of taking my mind off things and genuinely makes me laugh just like she did in college.
“Sounds like the perfect plan,” I tell the both of them.
Clint over-orders as usual. He has no problem when it comes to food, eating for two, or even three sometimes, never seeing a pound or inch shift on his already small waistline. I, on the other hand, have gained a few pounds of late. I try my best to ignore it, but deep down, it affects my confidence. I don’t quite feel my normal self, having to choose items in my wardrobe I haven’t worn in years.
“Are you going to eat more?” Clint asks, grabbing some sashimi off the platter. “I can’t get enough of this stuff.”
“It’s good,” Sandy agrees, taking another piece herself.
“I should probably stop.” I place my chopsticks down. “I’ve been eating like a pig lately and paying the price. The hips don’t lie.”
Clint drops his limp wrist. “Girl, you’re crazy. Your husband would tap your ass even if you gained one hundred pounds. Quit worrying and eat your food.”
“Remember those late-night pizza sessions we had in the dorm room?” Sandy laughs, taking a sip of water to clear her throat. “We’d eat a whole pizza each and didn’t see a single gain.”
“Oh, to be twenty-three again.” I sigh, raising my eyes heavenward. “Binge eating, copious amounts of alcohol. How life has changed.”
Clint orders another round of food. The guy is relentless. I grab another piece of Sashimi, placing it on my plate in front of me.
“Yeah, but you’re so lucky now,” Clint says, steering the conversation back to him. “A gorgeous husband I’d tap twenty-four-seven, and that house… girl, you got it all.”
