Rule No. 1: No Romance (GirlxGirl WlW)

Chapter 12

"I got caught in traffic, what are you doing?" I ask, seeing her fumble with her nameplate.

"I'm switching my last name," she says, putting it back where it usually is. She simply stuck a new vinyl sticker with her name on top of the old one, one of the edges slightly crooked, nearly making one of my temple veins pop. "I shouldn't have taken his surname in the first place, it's against Islam, but you know how Mark is."

"Joane Kassab," I read. "I thought your maiden name was Mohammed."

"And it was but do you have any idea of how many Muslims have Mohammed as their first or last name?" she groans. "I switched to my mother's name instead, it's not like my father is around to make a fuss out of it anyway."

I hum, walking to the coffee machine, the coffee sucks but right now it's the only thing I have to help me survive this morning. "Kassab suits you."

"I can't tell if you are in a good or bad mood."

"Neither, I'm thinking of finally using up my vacation this year — not now, of course, we're too busy for that."

"Where are you spending it?"

"I'm not sure," I say, walking up to my office. "Somewhere warm, probably—"

"Esther," she interrupts me.

"Huh?" I look back at her, seeing her eyeing me with a somewhat serious expression.

"There is a hickey on your neck," she points out flatly and I have a feeling she knows exactly why I have it, and who gave it to me.

My fingertips unconsciously touch the location where Louise had sucked on yesterday, remembering how at the time I thought of the possibility of it turning into a hickey, yet I just completely ignore it. I want to strangle her, no, I want to strangle myself for letting her do it.

"Oh," I say simply, going into my office and closing the door behind me, not really wanting to deal with a confrontation right now.

I tried not to think of it throughout the day but that spot seemed to burn, and more than anything, I'm surprised I didn't see it this morning in the mirror. The red blot just under my earlobe looks obvious when I look at it now, and I've never been more grateful to always carry a makeup bag with me — I thought it was just useless weight in my purse at one point but it has now proved its worth.

Now how to deal with Joane? I'll never admit it and I'm not sure the overused "I burned myself while ironing my hair" excuse would work, even though I do iron it frequently. I simply don't want to talk about it but I'm sure I won't see the light of the day... I'm too old to be getting scolded over relationships but it is somehow deserved, Joane is right, I shouldn't be getting close to Louise but I just can't seem to be able to think straight whenever I'm with her.

I sigh, pushing all these thoughts aside, it's almost time for lunch, and as much as I want to hide in my office and not deal with either Joane or Louise — I'm starving.

"Esther," Joane says as I walk out of the office, looking surprised to see me. "Didn't think you'd show that beautiful face for the rest of the day."

"Why wouldn't I?" I say, playing it cool.

"Well... Oh, you hid your little accident," she raises her eyebrows playfully.

"Let's eat," I ignore her, picking her up by the arm and dragging her to the elevator.

I didn't feel like driving or walking to a restaurant so we settled with the building's food court where most of the employees ate. It's always crowded and it isn't exactly the type of place you'd eat in if you hold a higher position but the paprika fries are pretty good and I honestly don't care all that much.

We struggle to find a place to sit for a few minutes until we see John waving from the distance, sitting with Louise and another guy from our department. I looked over at Joane wondering if we should sit with them but she was already making her way over there.

"I didn't expect to see you two here," John says as I rest my tray on the table in front of Joane, giving them a quick greeting.

"Esther wanted something quick," Joane answers. "It isn't all that bad."

"What do you mean it isn't all that bad? The food here is pretty fancy," Louise says, raising her eyebrows. "I was eating frozen pizza and instant noodles nearly every day in University, this is a step up."

"Aren't you Mr. Arquette's grandaughter though?" the guy whose name is unknown to me asks, so I really was the only one that didn't know about it, great. "Thought you'd be eating truffles dipped in gold and diamonds for lunch."

She lets out an awkward laugh, not elaborating further.

"Well, don't mind if I change the conversation here," Joane starts, clearing her throat. "You didn't hear this from me but a little bird told me tomorrow a representative of the magazine we're merging with is coming for a surprise visit, so we need to make sure everything is in order in our department."

"How do you know this?" I ask, eyeing her, I'm the head of the department, and I didn't know it.

"Patricia overheard a conversation between Mr. Arquette and his secretary."

"Patricia of all people?" I look at her with a raised eyebrow.

"I know but it seems likely, doesn't it?"

"It seems so."

"That's scary, do you know who's coming?" John asks, seeming a bit too anxious about it.

"No, but I'm guessing Mr. Ovadia," she says, eyeing me.

"Sounds familiar," Louise says, not really all that into the conversation.

"Of course, he's the CEO of the Beast Magazine, and Esther's ex-fiancé," she says way too casually. I can feel all eyes on me, especially Louise's, and I have a feeling this whole conversation wasn't sporadic. Joane wanted her to hear it.

⁂

"That was unnecessary Joane," I groan, sitting on my desk as she closed the door to my office.

"What was?" she asks in a sarcastic tone, approaching my table.

I sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose. "You didn't need to specify that he was my fiancé, that's highly inappropriate."

"You know what else is highly inappropriate?"

"Don't mind my business, Joane."

"You slept with her."

"I didn't—"

She lets out a humorous laugh. "Of course you did," I look at her with furrowed eyebrows, not understanding where all of this is coming from. "You really don't see how she's using you don't you?"

"So what? I can deal with my own problems."

"So what?" she repeats, crossing her arms. "You're nearly 30 years old, and you're letting yourself be swept off your feet by a girl."

"I don't get it," I murmur, getting up and walking up to her, barely controlling the frustration growing inside me. "I really don't get it, Joane, you spent the whole year arranging me dates with terrible men, men you knew damn well I would never be interested in. And then you pushed me to Louise because you knew I wouldn't give her a chance, but now you hate the thought of me and her, why? Why can't you mind your own damn business? What? Are you into me?" I say humorously, and I must admit that I really didn't see that slap coming.

I covered my cheek with my hand as the stinging sensation came crashing in. "Fuck you, Esther," she says before leaving my office.

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