Lisa
I can hear the phone ringing from outside the office.
And when I walk in, my gaze lands on Roseanne as she lifts the receiver and says, "Good morning, Lalisa Manoban's office."
She looks me right in the eye as she does it.
But then she winces and blinks away.
I take her in. She's wearing a simple cap-sleeve blue dress, and covered in a small print of daisies with little yellow centers. She's paired it with off-white cowgirl booties. Her hair is long and loosely curled-just a little bit messy.
She looks fucking edible.
"Malee." Her voice comes out with a light hitch. "What a pleasant surprise."
Oh good, my mom.
"Oh, yeah, she's a great boss. No complaints." She nods, then laughs softly. "We both know I can handle her. It's really been fine. Fun even." Her eyes slice up to mine. They're filled with a hint of worry. Like she doesn't want me to know she's having fun working here.
She stiffens. "No, no nice, small-town girls have been sniffing around her."
Lord help me. I shut the door and head toward my desk. I drop my leather shoulder bag and flop down into my chair to endure the next several minutes of my loose-cannon mom plotting with my loose cannon... whatever Rosie is.
Dick Manager is feeling entirely too accurate, since she not only manages me but practically leads me around by mine.
"Yes, superior looks. And all those moods. Really, who can keep up?"
Now she's back to glaring at me. I can hear my mother's voice but can't make out anything she says.
I glance down, and there sits another ripped page from the chaotic mind of a teenaged Roseanne Park. I pick up the piece of paper and read it.
* * *
Tonight at the beach party, I saw Lisa try to talk to a girl. She was cute, and honestly, she'd have been overachieving if she landed Lisa. Lisa's growing into herself and was hands down out of her league. Still, Lisa struck out so hard. It would have been funny if my secondhand embarrassment wasn't so far off the charts.
She doesn't do herself any favors by being so damn sarcastic. And knowing Lisa, whatever she said likely bordered on insulting, so I almost don't blame her.
Lisa's intelligence comes off mean sometimes. I like it. But I can keep up. Some people can't. She needs a girl who can challenge her. And I could tell this one wasn't up to the task.
Sometimes I think I should let Lisa hate fuck me just so she can lose her (alleged) virginity. I may not have loads of experience, but probably more than her. Maybe she'd frown less if she didn't have to walk around with an untouched dick all the time. A little practice wouldn't hurt the girl. I could send her back to college knowing where a girl's clit is and that would basically be philanthropic.
* * *
A coughing fit overtakes me, and I cover my mouth, thumping a hand on my chest a few times to clear my throat-and catch my breath. When I glance up, Roseanne looks like the goddamn Cheshire Cat with her lips curving up, knowing what I've just read. And for once, her cheeks take a turn flushing.
"I couldn't agree more. Getting laid would really take the edge off for her," she replies to my mother.
Fucking kill me now.
I scrub at my hair, messing up any semblance of style it may have had when I arrived.
Roseanne's brows pop up. "So, when you orgasm, it releases endorphins? And those make you feel happy? Well, dang, Malee. I'm no doctor, but I'm definitely going to prescribe her an orgasm. Buy her a magazine and send her to the back or something, ya know?"
