My Ex-Bestfriend

A reunion of sorts

*8 years later*

"Allie, you got this? " Mr. Jones both asks and affirms that I can take on a rather difficult clientele.

I give him my most confident reassuring smile, "It's in the bag. Don't worry."

He stands there fidgeting with his dark rimmed glasses indicating he did not believe that I had it in the bag.

Am I an investigative reporter getting a new assignment? No.

A sports journalist doing a celebrity interview? Also no.

*sigh*

Life threw me a curve ball, like it tends to do for me, and my life took a different direction. Seems having too much fun can result in teen pregnancy (I mean on the bright side I was at least an adult, 18). It's almost like I took a health class on that in highschool but completely forgot about consequences of the sexual variety. 

So out popped Walter (Walt for short) and it's just been us now for the past 7 years. His dad's only contribution was his DNA. Thankfully I did not lose my scholarship for having Walt, only my housing stipend. Therefore I had to find off campus housing. It wasn't easy trying to afford childcare, housing, and still make it to class on time.

It did end up taking me longer to graduate than anticipated but I did it. I always had Mrs. James white trash words ringing in my ears when I was a single mom exhausted and wanting to give up.

My dad wasn't thrilled that I refused to come home when I found out I was pregnant. He wasn't pleased like any father would be in my predicament but he helped me when he could. He knew how fiercely independent I was and for numerous reasons refused to go back to that house. I also think he knew I would end up in prison if I caught Mrs. James smirking at me in that I-told-you-so-way. 

I haven't completely thrown out my life's ambitious desires. I  currently am a freelance writer picking up work where I can. It has its drawbacks but it did give me exposure to start building my portfolio to actually attain my dreams. I don't have the luxury of being a 'starving artist' chasing leads til I make it.

A few years ago I did a story on one of the most lucrative event coordinators in the area, Mr. Jones. He was enamored with my work ethic and maturity at such a young age that he allowed me to work for him as his assistant. He was always gracious when I needed to leave to take care of Walt or when some child care emergency popped up. He is a dream boss in that regard.  As much as I appreciate him taking me on as his assistant the big money is landing a client to coordinate for. It's been 3 years now since he finally agreed to let me take on my own clients as he closes in on retirement.

Today I was handed one of the more VIP clients we have in our office. Mr. Jones had originally delegated this client to his son, Charles. Charles graduated from college with what I presume was a barely passing GPA because he reminds me of the entitled a**holes that I use to go to school with.

Nepotism got him in the door but he thinks he doesn't need to work hard cause daddy has already put in the blood, sweat, and tears to make the business a success. Unfortunately for Charles, daddy wanted him to learn the ropes from the ground up, a quality I admire. Charles has epically failed at every challenge laid before him. 

This particular client I only acquired because she fired him after 1 day. Apparently he couldn't stop oogling the clients breasts. He couldn't even deny it when a Freudian slip escaped him asking her "how big are those breasts" instead of "how many guests." Mr. James had to play negotiator or else she was going to leave a scathing review about his business. She stated she would return if a female would manage her event, by default of my biology I got the gig.