EXCEPTional

Ch. 8 (Bridget)

*Bridget* 

      I snuck into the building, hoping it was late enough that everyone went home. I didn’t want to spend a few hours telling everyone at work how I knew Chance Olson and how the dinner went. So I walked quietly through the halls and constantly looked over my shoulder to avoid my coworkers.

      Because of his fame, it was natural to assume people would dig into his past to learn of his old flames. And since Chance and I were public for a few months, you’d figure everyone knew about our past together. But that wasn’t how it worked.

      Once summer hit, Chance got busy with modeling so our time spent together shortened (I didn’t complain). And in July, he started investing his free time in college prep. Plus, I had a part-time job that reduced our time greatly. Because we weren’t seen in public for nearly two months, the media let me fade into the background. I became a blurry smudge on Chance’s history—I was easily forgotten.

      So no one knew. And Brimwell hadn’t remembered either. The only people who reminded me on a constant basis that I had a past with the male model were my mother and Sheila. There were probably a few people from high school who recalled the year of Bridget and Chance, but I wasn’t extraordinary enough to mention.

      Besides, everyone in Brimwell bragged about knowing Chance Olson, even if they had only seen his picture. Because he had spent four years of his life here, people thought that entitled them to bragging rights. I had become good friends with the guy, and you didn’t hear me blab about it everyone just in hopes of climbing the social ladder. I didn’t bother with those petty competitions.

      On my floor, I noticed most of the editors had gone home. So I easily slipped into my office, got better organized, and put the finished article together in a more professional display.

      I had noticed Raquel’s light was still on in her office, which made sense—it was only half past seven. I decided to drop off my work before heading home, so she wouldn’t have to nag on me later.

      With a knock, I opened her office door and walked to her desk. I placed the article on top, saying, “Here.”

      She glanced up from the intimidating paperwork in front of her. Once she realized what it was, she arched a brow and picked it up. Eyes now on my face, she told me, “This could have waited until tomorrow, Ms. Young.”

      I shrugged, gripping the strap of my purse. “I finished, and I knew you were waiting on it.”

      Raquel put the papers aside. “You went to dinner with Chance Olson. You could’ve used that as an excuse to extend your deadline,” she pointed out.

      “That’s playing the system, isn’t it?” I asked, quirking an eyebrow.

      “I took you for an underhanded player,” she admitted, folding her arms on her desk.

      I felt I should have been offended, but the statement didn’t affect me. “Well, here. Do with it what you like.”

      Before I could leave, she inquired curiously, “I don’t mean to pry, but how do you know Chance Olson?” From her tone of voice, it was obvious she was just as surprised as everyone else in the lobby when the male model had singled me out.

      With an inaudible sigh, I looked up at the ceiling and told my ire to get used to it—she wasn’t going to be the only one to ask this. Plus, she was my boss. If I made a misstep here, I would just be giving her another reason to fire me.