"Are you sure you have everything you need?"
"Of course. It's just a three day trip, it's not like I need a full wardrobe."
"Don't forget your emergency evening wear. And a swimsuit. Oh, and that little green dress you found last time we were in New York."
"A swimsuit? Really? You know I'm going to Canada, right? Not really known for its warm beaches, especially in March."
"Does your hotel not have a pool?"
This is where I roll my eyes. I know by now that there is no way to win this argument, and, if I'm not careful, my bag will be personally packed by the pixie queen herself.
"I highly doubt I'll have much time for a swim, Alice. This is a conference, not a vacation. OW!" I try to muffle the phone with my chin as a wave of obscenities tumbles from my mouth. For three years I have lived in this apartment, and my trunk has been in the same position since the day I moved in. Still, at least once a week, it somehow comes in contact with my toes.
"I told you to buy a regular coffee table."
"Thanks for the sympathy. No really, I don't know what I'd do without you." I do my best to make my eye roll travel through the phone lines.
"Put the bitchface away, you know I love you."
"Sure, sure. Anyway, I'm done packing everything I need, and now it's time to sleep." Damn these early flights; days should not start before 10 am.
"Alright, take care of yourself Bella. Text me to keep me updated."
"Will do Alice, talk to you soon."
Closing the phone, I take a cautious glance around my apartment. Half of my wardrobe is decorating the living room, the contents of my office have migrated into the dining room, and I'm sure I can hear water running somewhere. There is a fierce internal debate – go to bed, knowing I don't have to deal with the mess for the next 4 days, or stay up cleaning so I don't need to dread coming home.
Some days I wish I had inherited more of Renee's carefree attitude. Picking up the phone again, I dial reflexively.
"Hey Bells! I thought you were away this week."
"Leaving in the morning Jake, but right now my apartment is trashed. Help?"
"Sure thing, anything in particular you want me to blabber on about tonight?"
"Anything at all. How are things with Seth?" And so my cleaning marathon begins. Jake and I had figured out this trick in high school when Charlie had put me under house arrest until I cleaned up. I hate cleaning, there's a certain comfort in a well lived-in room. Ok, honestly, I just get too overwhelmed to know where to start. That's where Jake comes in. He rambles and keeps me just distracted enough that I don't realize what I'm doing. It's like the mess cleans itself.
"I hope I'm next on the list for a visit Bells, it's been too long."
Jake's been my best guy friend for years. Since getting over the awkward social pressure to be together, and him finally coming out to me, we were more like siblings than friends. I think Charlie and Billy still hold a secret hope that we'll both snap out of it, but Jake and I know better.
"Yeah, I know. Charlie has been on me to come home too. It just doesn't make sense right now, though Jake. I put off school so that I could work and then do all the travelling I want. Putting money out now to visit just seems like a waste."
"Glad to know where I fit in your priorities, old friend."
I know it's not intended to sting, but it still hits a mark.
"OK, maybe at the end of the summer, when things slow down for work, but right now I've just got a lot on my plate Jake."
"I know Bells. It must be exhausting wining and dining and all that."
"Oh yeah, chasing around my boss, acting as a stand-in waitress, and taking notes at conferences is such a glamorous life. Last week, I had to trade shirts with her before a meeting because she had spilled coffee on hers. And then I had to sit through the meeting too!"
"Ouch. Why do you put up with that crap, you've got more self-worth than that."
This
is where I sigh. I know he's right, and so my justification is as
much to myself as it is to him.
"It's
just a job,
Jake,
it's not my life. There's not much out there for college drop outs,
and with the money I'm making,
I'll
only have to do it for another year or so before I can leave."
"I know, make a wad of cash now and then experience the world for two years before settling down. I've heard about this plan of yours since halfway through your freshman year. You've already been doing it for two years though, Bella."
I sigh and stay silent for a moment as I put away the last of my clothes.
"I just don't want to get stuck Jake. I don't want to go to school to become something, only to realize it's not what I want to be. At least right now there's no pretense, no disappointment. I know this is temporary, I haven't sold out. Forks hardly gave me enough life experience to commit to something for the rest of my life."
"It wouldn't be a life sentence, Bells; people change their mind all the time. I hate to see you treated like this, but at least you'll get to see the world. Anyway, Seth just walked in the door, so if you've got your things in order..."
"Yeah yeah, go to your man. I'll give you a call when I get back Jake."
With things finally in order, I set my alarm for 5 am and crawl between my flannel sheets. It seems my eyes barely close before the quiet is torn apart with the wail of my alarm. Two hours, a long cab ride, and a short flight later, I'm checking into the hotel while my boss prattles away on her phone, effectively ignoring my existence.
"Bella, dear, we've got a couple of hours before the conference starts, if you want to go see the sights. Most people here speak English, so don't worry about the language. Just bring breakfast up to me in an hour or so, and then we'll go over the itinerary for the week."
Fighting the urge to roll my eyes at the thinly veiled breakfast run, I nod.
"Of course, just let me get my things upstairs."
"Yes, you have an extra copy of my key, take my bags with you; I think I see Chendrick pulling up. See you in an hour."
Effectively dismissed, I make my way to the elevators. I've been struggling with this job over the last few months. Being an administrative assistant wasn't so bad, but the promotion to Ms. Claire Buxton's personal assistant was like a step back. The pay raise was amazing, but the slave labour got to be a little much. Still, I was usually back to my apartment at a decent hour, and with her workout schedule I only needed to be in the office at 10:30 most days, so it could have been worse. The added bonus of Claire's infatuation with the executive of a partner firm made these conferences much more livable – when she wasn't on the clock, neither was I.
This is my first time to Montreal, and I can't help but feel a tremor of excitement as I walk out of the hotel and down the street. Armed with a map of the metro, I take in as much of the city as I can in the short amount of time available. Unfortunately, things don't run as smoothly as I plan, and time slips away from me.
"Taxi!" I yell, waving my arm furiously as a black cab drives by. Unable to resist the urge, I stamp my foot and cross my arms before trying again.
"Taxi!" the voice behind me is hardly raised, but is strong and forceful, commanding. I have to remind myself to breathe, trying to ignore the pile of goo that was once my stomach as I look over my shoulder.
The owner of the voice is standing behind me, his broad chest clothed in a tailored charcoal suit, black shirt, and emerald green tie. Feeling the heat rise to my face, my eyes travel down instead of up as a cab pulls up beside us.
"Thank you," I mutter softly, not quite trusting my legs as I take a slow tentative step toward the curb.
The only response I hear is the slamming of the door and the sound of the cab pulling away. Peeling my eyes off the ground, I see them pull off. Some knight in shining armour he turned out to be.
