Jilted

Bossy

I’m bossy

I’m the bitch ya’ll love to hate

I’m the chick that’s raised the stakes

Kelies – Bossy                                                        

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Geviana yawned as she placed her graphite pencil down on the ridge of her slightly slanted desk. It had been two weeks since the disastrous weekend that never seemed to end. First, she went to Kyle’s wedding, made herself look like a completely bitter woman, seduced Christopher, stupidly yelled out Kyle’s name in the middle of sex, and then there was the whole ordeal with her purse the next day.

She was trying to put it all behind her. Sure, sometimes a simple object like a lamp would conjure up memories of her and Christopher, and she still couldn’t stomach looking at anything related to weddings. All in all, she was trying to put everything even remotely related to the Ridgel’s behind her. She could not spend the rest of her life torn up over him, and she would not spend the rest of her life feeling ashamed of her actions.

“Not feeling so good today, boss?” Ashley, Geviana’s assistant, asked, handing Geviana one of the two Starbucks chai lattes in her hand.

“I’m alright,” Geviana answered, grinning at Ashley.

She was the new intern at the company, and when asked which interior designer she wanted to work with, she immediately asked for Geviana. Normally, Geviana preferred working on her own, but when the bright, blue-eyed girl had asked her, she couldn’t say no. Ashley was too adorable with her shoulder length blonde hair, that accentuated how round and doe-like her bright blue eyes were. Her cheeks were big and puffy, and in short, she looked, dressed, and had the energy of a ten year old. Today, for example, a white ribbon headband with a bow on one side was perched atop her messy tousled hair, and she was wearing a pink t-shirt underneath a black vest. She wore a denim mini skirt and black knee high slouchy suede boots to maximize her tall frame. It was such a youthful look that Geviana felt incredibly old, wearing her white button up shirt and high-waisted red pencil skirt.

“I’m loving that red skirt,” Ashely commented. “It looks super-hot on you. Too bad I’m never going to have the long legs to carry it off,” Ashley sighed, frowning at her lack of height at five foot two.

“Ah…but you’re young and 20. I feel like a spinster already at age 26 next to you and your trendy outfits.”

“We’ve got to go shopping together, sometime, then!” Ashely enthusiastically told Geviana. “Geez, boss, you’ve practically got a supermodel’s body, you could wear whatever you wanted.”

Geviana rolled her eyes, but she was pleased nonetheless by Ashely’s compliment and candor. She wasn’t trying to suck up, and that’s what Geviana loved about her. Ashley’s bluntness was astounding, and she wasn’t afraid to tell her boss the way things were instead of sugarcoating it. Everything she said was so refreshingly sincere and honest.

“Anyways, Mrs. C wants to see you in her office. She said she had something very important to tell you.”  Ashley dragged out the “very” to make sure Geviana understood how urgent “Mrs. C” wanted her.

“Thanks.” Geviana gave her a small smile before gathering her sketches, putting them into her portfolio before stuffing it all into her oversized black Balenciaga.

Mrs. C, as Ashley called her, was actually named Christina Chrysanthemum. If Geviana thought her parents were high for naming her Geviana Clarke, Christina Chrysanthemum had it ten times worse. Still, she had taken her hippie last name and made it the name of the number one interior design firm in all of New York: Chrysanthemum Interior.