A few headaches later
After the late lunch with Josh and Amanda, I turtled up in my cubicle.
Dear Mr. Turner,
I am sorry for breaking your vase. I beg for your forgiveness.
Eva :-)
Damn, this won't do. I should try again. I have to try again! Maybe lose the smiley this time.
I had written about fifty apology notes and tossed them in the bin, thinking they weren't good enough. With every second bygone, I awaited my fate. I imagined Will Turner standing in front of my cubicle, dragging me by my collar and calling me out for the act of treason. He will notice my band-aids, and then with a swish second gone my termination letter will appear from thin air. He will slap it on my face as Amanda Richards smiles from a distance with a 'told you so' shrug. The staff at Bexley's will laugh at me, and Josh, with his still charming smile, look at me sympathetically.
"Are you gonna head out, Eva?"
It's Rachel, the new editor! A bit too thin and a lot paler for someone who has stayed out in Fordshire summer. She was hired as a junior editor only the week before, and from what I heard from Josh, she was the replacement. My replacement, precisely. I know it's supposed to make me insecure, but I felt sorry for her. She worked hard, didn't complain much about the dress code, and was polite to everyone. Even Amanda didn't give her cold shoulder, or the dirty look she often shot me. It was hard to hate Rachel even though she was a potential competition.
"No. I got to wind up some stuff. Have a good day." I said with a smile.
Pity does that to you. It makes you weak when you shouldn't. Will Mr. Turner feel the same for me? Will he forgive me? The question made me shudder. Almost as if I had seen his grey eyes flash in front, I had an answer to the question. He wasn't. Why would he? The vase was a damn gift. That's why he had kept it despite the odd incentives it gave off to his all-white, all-black, shitty, and expensive interiors. A pile of un-touched manuscripts rested in front of me. I was too distracted to get the rest done.
At 8:45 pm, Will Turner did not show up. No one was gossiping about a broken vase. The office was silent when I walked out at nine. Maybe, I was lucky, or the storm was stirring somewhere in the corner office where a grey-eyed man was planning my execution. Regardless, I wanted to go back home.
***
9 pm
The Fordshire streets were as lively as always. The air smelt of beer somewhere around Brian's Bistro, the sweet scent of chocolate cake at Fourth Street, and the nostalgia in summer air swept in as I boarded the bus back to Miss Mason's. If it weren't for the loss of enthusiasm, I would have stopped by Central Park and enjoyed the swing. It's childish, but it was an inseparable part of my 'me' time. When you sway like a pendulum, all your worries shed off with each swing. It always worked, and if that didn't seem a good reason, it was way better than a cultitual.
I entered Fifth street when my phone beeped.
You have one new notification from Roms.
I clicked on it.
Roms: Get home soon! We are going out for dinner with a friend of mine ^_^
Me: Okay. I am just outside Miss Mason's.
When I walked to the front yard, I noticed a Bentley parked. It had a metallic grey exterior, and its owner spent a fortune on maintenance. Whoever it was, they are going to get a scolding from Miss Mason, the thought crossed my mind.
When I rang the bell, Roms quickly opened up the door. Her face was priceless with a gleaming radiance. Whoever this friend was must be close to her, and based on how I had never heard of them before, I was getting a tiny bit jealous.
"Is your friend made of gold?" I asked.
"Most of him, I dare say!" She said and winked.
Okay, so this friend was a 'him'! Was he a lover? But that was hardly possible. Roms was dating Kade. A nice guy, her forever, honey munchkin, and a bunch of lovey-dovey names that she calls him. Yes, Kade's that guy for her, not a friend. Though, I haven't seen him before.
"Am I allowed to enter, or is this new friend of yours all you care about?"I said, not hiding the jealousy in my tone.
I was damn jealous. Who the hell was this guy to steal my best friend from me? The idea of getting dinner with him ticked me off somehow. Why was I roped into eating food with people I am not going to like all the fucking day? I already didn't like this friend of hers.
"Sure, darling," Romilda said, opening the gate wide for me.
I entered to find a young man in his late twenties dressed up in casuals, making himself at home on our living room's couch. He was dressed in a navy blue flannel and black denim, and wore matching sneakers. My eyes met his storm grey irises. His hair was wild. His right eyebrow scar sitting where it ought to be, and then there were his lips, fashioned into a smirk. Will Turner is Roms's friend?
"What the fuck! He's your friend?"I screamed wide-eyed, my jaw hit the marble and my heart was beating a thousand times louder.
"Why? Don't I look like one?" Will said, smiling weirdly.
My mind short-circuited with the information. Will Turner, my boss, was Roms's close friend?While I was planning on apologizing to him all afternoon, he was sitting in my living room looking like a college boy? It wasn't happening. What kind of sick joke was it!
"Are you just going to stand gaping at him? I am sure you see him a lot in the office..." Roms teased.
"Not quite a lot, but..." I said
"But what, Eva? I thought you hated wearing pencil skirts." Will interrupted.
His smirk now transited into a full-length smile. The kind you give to people when you want to tick them off. Sexy but unwelcomed.
"I will go and change," I said, trying to keep myself as sane as possible though the chances were hard.
I walked to the bedroom and wore the first thing from the closet- a denim jacket over a Fordshire High T-shirt and yoga pants. Yoga pants are the go-to for every casual occasion. That is way too comfortable. Romilda said they made my legs look sexy, and I agreed. Maybe a little sexy will help me deal with Will when he sure was a hell of it! Wait, I am not supposed to compliment him. I have been going crazy since the afternoon, and I have been thinking about him a lot lately.
I sighed and entered the living room. My denim jacket barely pulled against my back. Did I grow out of my clothes? Romilda and Will were in the middle of a conversation when Will's eyes met mine, and all the voices died. His lips parted as if to say something, and then his cheeks turned into a deep shade of red. Why the hell was he blushing?
"Eva," Romilda turned and dashed towards me.
Her hands hurriedly adjusted my t-shirt. Oh no, not again. It was that t-shirt.
Roms had cut the fabric into rounds where the boobs were bulging out. The denim jacket did nothing to cover it up, hanging stupidly besides my sleeves. She thought it was the go-to prank for April Fool's day, but my experiences say otherwise. What was I even thinking about when I dressed up? My pink bra flashed from the inside. I was no Regina George to pull that look.
Will coughed.
Wow! Now I was putting up a show for Will. I got so lost in thinking that I wasn't even looking at my clothes. Why the hell did I put that t-shirt in my closet? My pride had trodden down to a steep low level, from where it could not be elevated.
"Umm...Roms, while you help Eva dress into something less breezy, I will wait outside. Not that I mind her outfit though!" He chuckled and left.
Bloody sarcastic asshole. Now I was a laughing stock. Within five minutes of meeting him, I had managed to be his subject of amusement. That guy is nothing but trouble! The deep cuts he leaves in my pride aren't as lewd as the ones on my t-shirt.
Acting like a fool in front of people. Check. Putting on a boob show for your current boss. Check. I was checking off a lot of things from my terrible list of firsts and all of them had to do something with Will Turner.