"Ugh! What time is it?" she groans sleepily as I search about for my jacket. Evidently Paige had done some rearranging in our room and now I can't find anything.
"It's early, baby, go back to sleep," I say distractedly, having located the jacket and my keys.
The dreaded Monday morning has rolled around, and after a Sunday of taking in some of the city's more touristy hotspots, I'm catapulted back into reality with a thump.
Not that I generally hate going to work or anything. Usually getting up is not a problem for me, knowing that I'm going to see, well…her, I guess. Plus my job is pretty good, my colleagues generally nice.
But this morning it would be different. Those that knew of my absence, that knew the reason for my absence, would be looking at me. I don't know if I'm prepared for that. And as for June…I definitely haven't prepared for her. For telling her that whatever was going on between us would be no more. That I have got back together with my ex-girlfriend who is now living with me. That I hope she isn't too upset and still thinks highly enough of me to give me a good appraisal at the end of my internship and recommend me for any upcoming positions in the department. Yeah…maybe not thinking about it is the best way forward.
"My God, look at you," she remarks as she raises herself up in the bed. "You're all, workified, professional looking."
"Yeah," I say absently as I pack up my bag, "It comes with the job."
"Hey, how do I get to Baruch College? Do you know? I want to go have a look at their campus today."
I look at her, slightly taken aback at just how organized she is being within a couple days of getting here. I don't know why I'm surprised though. After all, I had bared witness to her endless prospectus trawling while we were at Degrassi.
"Baruch," I say, trying to picture it in my head. I had definitely heard the name and knew that it was in the area.
"It's near Lexington Avenue. We're near there aren't we? I think it's 25th street?"
"Right," I mumble. "You wanna go downtown. The subway is 6 blocks that way. Paige? That way," I'm pointing now to get her attention. The last thing I want is getting her lost in New York. "Anyway, I think it's the 6 train, but check when you get there. Okay?"
I grab my bag and get ready to go, she holds out her arm as I do and I go to kiss her goodbye.
"Bye," I say leaning down. A brief peck and I'm backing away to the door.
"Aah, my little girl all grown up," she says with a smile, looking up at me.
Instantly a cold wave of nausea hits me. It was an off-the-cuff joke; I don't think Paige even considered its implications. But I'm thinking of her as she says it. Of her, who will never see me like this, who will never know what I am or what I could be. The realization leaves me feeling disarmed and shaken.
"You look so hot," Paige reaffirms, which focuses my attention again.
"I am hot," I wink back at her, regaining some composure as I head out the door.
"You have a nice day now!" she calls after me and I can hear the amusement in her voice. It's enough to keep me smiling all the way to Lexington before I board my train.
I'm heading downtown, to west 57th street, just a short walk to Broadway and my big imposing skyscraper of a workplace. All about me is the usual throng of commuters, we're all in a hurry, and we all take consolation in our anonymity. If only it could last. For a fleeting second I entertain the idea of just carrying on past my building, just walking off and not looking back, going wherever my feet may carry me. It's a comforting reckless thought and by allowing myself to believe its plausibility I summon the courage to actually face my work.
Raymond, the guard at the desk, greets me as I walk in to the imposing lobby. He doesn't know my name, but he always smiles. I ride the elevator with nine or ten unknowns until my stop on the seventeenth floor.
It takes a final internal deep breath before I can swipe my card that let's me in to the particular area I work. But the familiarity of the desks all lined up with people settling in and early morning chatter soothes some of my anxiety. I get a "Good morning Alex," from Andrew, one of the sub-editors in non-fiction and a few smiles here and there from the secretaries. These people are nice. Not condescending. And besides, everyone's too busy here to really worry about me, I realize with relief.
I take a seat at my desk in the little cubicle I share with Rowena, Tracy and Adam. Evidently Adam is on vacation and I don't know where Rowena is, but Tracy eyeballs me suspiciously.
"So you decided to come back then?" she inquires, with maybe just a trace of an edge in her voice. Okay, scrap what I said about everyone being nice. She's one bitch I can tolerate, but have never ventured to like.
"Looks like it," I reply as my heart sinks at the paperwork that has been left to crowd my in-tray. This is going to be one pain-in-the-ass day.
Rowena rocks up with a cup of coffee and flashes me a smile. "Hey Alex, we were told you'd be in today. It's good to see you."
I thank her and she pauses before adding, "I'm sorry about your mother."
I still haven't got used to knowing how to respond to this. I mean, I've already just thanked her, should I say it again? It seems faintly absurd that I lose my one and only parent and suddenly have to turn into a manic ball of gratitude whenever people acknowledge this.
"Yeah," I state softly, offering a tight smile.
Tracy, who sits at one of the desks opposite mine leans forward and looks about conspicuously before asking, "How did she die?"
That nosy bitch, as if she actually cares. I notice Rowena shooting her a look, but looking back at me with curiosity.
"She had a liver disease," I reply looking directly back at Tracy, forcing her to lower her eyes.
"I'm sorry," she almost chokes on the words.
"If there's anything we can do…" Rowena trails off. God, these people know how to say all the right things. Shame it doesn't actually mean anything.
I pick up the stack of papers on my desk. "Got a shredder?" I ask with a rueful smile.
They tell me about this big marketing push that happened while I was away and all the reports that have to be logged as a result of it.
"It's very very tedious," Rowena assures me.
"It's boring as hell!" Tracy moans helpfully.
They spend some time going over with me what it is that needs to be done. At some point Rowena mentions, "And June wants the hard copies when you're done."
The mention of her name is enough to let me casually ask, "Is she in this morning? I haven't seen her."
Tracy mutters something about her having meetings all day and being in early. Right, well that solves that little confrontation problem for today. And yet I feel unexpectedly disappointed. Maybe it's just delaying the inevitable and I'd rather just get it over with. Maybe. But when I check my email I find her name crowding my inbox. A small thrill ripples down my spine at each one, yet there is more than a trickle of displeasure when they all appear to be work related. Just more accounts to go through, more data-entry, more crap.
Not that we were in any way conspicuous with email. These things were all stored on some giant back-up thingiemejig and no one could risk getting caught out. Any emails she ever sent me that had anything personal in them would be so discrete as to be totally ambiguous to anyone else. Probably the most conspicuous she had ever gotten was when I had replied to a very long and detailed list of tasks I had to do, complaining in a totally insolent, long-winded and tongue in cheek manner that it was all too menial and boring as to be beneath me.
She had replied: Just do it! – x
And strangely enough that had been enough to make me do it without even another negative thought.
The morning passes in relative calm. We chat absently with one another. A few people I know by name stop by my desk and offer the usual commiserations, good to have you back crap with relative awkwardness. The mail guy comes by and flirts with me a bit, as he usually does. I guess I'm not really out at work. Rowena has made some allusions as to her suspicions a couple times, trying to smoke me into it, name dropping a gay-bar or celebrity to see how I'll react. I usually just go with it, not denying anything or lying. But no one's ever come right out and asked if I was gay so I don't really see any point in declaring myself one way or another.
She does always look amused at Tony's attempts at chatting me up. But then we all do. He's such an obvious player. I suspect he probably has at least one of us on every floor.
Of course, all this makes it impossible to talk about Paige. Which is a shame. Rowena mentions her husband constantly and casually; Tracy always has some relationship crisis or another. I, on the other-hand must appear to have the most boring and non-existent lovelife ever. If they only knew, I think to myself.
The afternoon begins in much the same way as the morning. About halfway through I get up, to stretch my legs more than anything. I walk to the water cooler out in the hall and that is when I catch sight of her, coming out of one of the conference rooms with a bunch of suits. At first she doesn't see me as she's facing the other way, but as the suits walk off she turns around and catches my eye.
"Alex," she says in her semi-husky assertive tone that always gets me going. Well that and her long legs, and short skirts and – gaaa! Must not think like this!
She strides purposefully towards me as I straighten up, paper cup in hand, heart racing a mile a minute.
"Hello stranger," she says, her voice low and her smile warm. "How are you?"
"I'm fine…thanks."
"Look, I'm sorry I haven't been able to see you this morning," she's glancing sideways as she talks to me, always looking out for any passing colleagues, giving them the nod or changing her tone accordingly, effusing professionalism at all times. "I've been a bit swamped lately. But we must catch up later. My office, 5.30, okay?" she takes a step back, already drifting back to her domain of authority.
"Alright," I respond dumbly, having no real alternative.
I spend the rest of the afternoon resolutely trying not to clock-watch and resoundingly failing. I try and focus on Paige for a while and that calms me down a bit. I can imagine her walking right into Baruch College and selling herself to whoever'll listen. Not like the time we had the college fair at Degrassi and I went and got her stoned, almost sabotaged her future completely. But those thoughts just make me feel angry and depressed so I shove them aside.
At last 5.30 rolls around and I make my way to June's office. It's really just a walled enclosure with blinded windows within our open-plan office. It's also empty. I hover around for a while before some dude tells me she was finishing up in the boardroom. I don't want to hang around for her and be late home, that would not be a good start on my domestic front. So I swing by the room I saw her coming out of that morning.
She's there alone, packing up some papers. "Sorry Alex," she says unperturbed at my sudden presence, "We overran. But as you're here why don't you have a seat."
Okay, so we're in manager and employee mode. I'm not sure if this makes things easier or not. I take a seat at the corner of the big imposing table, while she finishes putting away her stuff. She turns her chair sideways so she can face me more easily, more intimately, crossing those mile long legs as she does.
"How has your first day back been? Not too stressful I hope," her tone is friendly, but with more than a hint of formality about it.
"No more than usual," I reply.
"Alex," a tiny pause, "As you know, you're appraisal is due at the end of the month. I was wondering if you had any thoughts on what you might want to pursue next." She looks straight into my eyes with her icy blue ones as she says this. Oh dear God, stop these evil thoughts in my head.
"Well," I begin shakily, before clearing my throat to compose myself, "I have enjoyed working here, and feel that I have learnt a lot. A – a lot that I feel I'd like to give back, to-to the company," Jesus Christ everything we're saying sounds innuendo-laden.
But if she notices this she doesn't let on. "Well you've definitely shown you're capable," she says with an impressive display of seriousness. "Alex, there will be a number of positions becoming available in the next month. In particular in our sales division, supporting two of our imprint sales directors. It's a very good opportunity, good career progression. I'd like to put you forward." She looks impressed with herself as she concludes her proposal.
I shift about slightly in my seat. Do I tell her now? Hell yes, get me the job, but by the way my ass is now off limits. She stands up and takes a few steps over to where I'm sitting, folds her arms and leans back against the table.
"What's the matter? Do you want some time to think it over?"
I stare at the ground, unable to meet her gaze. The thought does occur to me, of course, that she's offering me this for purely ulterior motives. And I'm not sure how I feel about that. I mean, a job's a job, I need one badly and this could be perfect. But even so…and I still haven't told her about Paige. But then, she hasn't yet implied anything, so…
"Y'know Alex," she begins, I can feel her eyes staring at me intently, "I didn't tell you this before, but… I lost my mother too. I was a little older than you admittedly…twenty-four I must have been, but… nothing prepares you for it, I know. Regardless of how well you might or might not have gotten on with each other at the time, you never expect that they'll just be taken away like that."
"I don't want to talk about my mother," I suddenly snap at her coldly.
It's the first time I've ever raised my voice to her, and for a second I'm absolutely terrified as to how she'll react.
"Okay," she relents softly as she backs away and picks up her briefcase. "But you think about what I've said. It's a good offer."
Clearly our meeting is at an end. I stand up as she makes to leave and she hovers before opening the door. Now is the time to tell her, my conscience shrieks at me. Tell her! Tell her!
"My schedule is a bitch this week," she confides, leaning towards me. "But we should try and fit in a lunch somewhere." And then, she's trailing a finger down the side of my face and every nerve ending is standing to attention as her perfume tickles my senses and her touch does something more extreme. "I've missed you," she stares at me, into me, and then disappears out the door.
I can hear the clicking of her heels only faintly over the din of my sinking heart.