“Okay with my friend and her child being ridiculously happy? Yes. I’m not a monster. I’ll miss seeing them all the time, but I’m happy they found Wasp. Trent needs a good man he can look up to, and Wasp...”
“Wasp likes to clown, but he loves Carly and that kid. He’d do anything for them.”
She smiled. “Exactly. Carly’s had a rough life. She deserves this. I’ll find a new roommate. Not a big deal.” Her smile faltered a little at the end, betraying her real feelings on the matter. Finding a new roommate would be a very big matter for someone like Jessica.
“Has anyone ever told you you’re a horrible liar?” I asked.
She sighed. “All. The. Time. Seriously. Why is it so easy for everyone else?”
I laughed. I couldn’t help it. She was just so damn honest and adorable, exactly the kind of woman I wanted to come home to every night. “I love that you can’t lie. It’s one of my fifty favorite things about you.”
Unable to take the compliment, she blushed and looked away. “Why did you ask about tonight?” she asked, forcing the subject off her again. “Do you have plans after work?”
“Unfortunately, yes. I have a shift at the bar tonight.” I took one last longing look at her body before forcing myself out of bed. If I didn’t get my ass in gear and grab a shower, I’d be late for my first job. Judging by my family’s texts, they were already pissed at me for missing fireworks last night. I didn’t need Dad riding my ass all day about not making it to work on time. Still, I didn’t want to leave Jessica without knowing when I’d see her again, though. “Wanna grab dinner after you get off?” I asked. “I’ll have a couple of hours before I have to be at the bar.”
She sat up and smiled, clutching the sheet around her like I hadn’t seen (and flogged) every inch of her gorgeous body. “Yes. I’d like that, but only if I can cook.”
And I liked that she wanted to cook for me. “Here?”
“Nope. I’ll grab some groceries and meet you at my apartment. What time do you get off?”
We made plans to meet up before going our separate ways to shower and get ready for work.
***
Jessica
When I got to work, Chad intercepted me on the way to my cubicle. Today he wore a pleated gold vest over a black button up shirt with black pleather pants and gold shoes. He flashed me a patronizing smile as he looked over my much more conservative pants outfit.
“Hey, Jess, I’m so glad I caught you.” Chad’s sing-songy voice was even more nasally than normal today. Probably due to the lack of sleep I’d gotten thanks to Spade’s all-night sex-athon. Not like I was complaining or anything. It was the best night of my life and I was over the moon that he wanted to meet up for dinner tonight. “Do you have a minute? I’d like to meet with you in my office.”
Right. Chad was talking, and I needed to pay attention to his words. He had an office now? Since when? Wednesday he’d been in a cubicle just like the rest of us bottom feeders. And I couldn’t think of a worse way to start off my morning than in a confined space with the weasel, but I nodded. “Sure. Can I drop my laptop off at my desk first?”
“If you must.” He looked so put out. Poor Chad. He had to walk five steps out of his way before leading me to the printer room. The entire space had been rearranged and a partition had been added to separate the printer tables from a small office space.
“This is your office now?” I asked.
He beamed. “It’s not much, I know. The space is temporary until Don has the builders come in to make me something more permanent, but we figured this would get me away from everyone on the floor and give me the opportunity to see and approve of all ads before our weekly meetings.”
So, they moved him away from us little people, and now Chad could cut me to pieces for my designs all five days of the week. Awesome. “Gee, that’s great.”
“Speaking of ads, we need to talk. Come have a seat.”
That sounded ominous. I glanced back at the door, wondering if I could somehow escape before he started talking. Chad glanced back at me, and I gave up and followed as he wove his way around the partition and sat behind his desk, gesturing for me to take the empty chair.
Feeling all hope of a decent day vanish, I sat.
He opened a file on his desk and removed an ad I didn’t recognize for one of my new clients, Fresh Eyes LASIK. Confused, I studied the ad. The image I’d selected for it—the client approved image—was of a family at a playground. The message had to do with not letting glasses get in the way of living life to the fullest. The new image was of a young guy with weird washed out orbs around his oddly blue eye. The message had been changed to some self-help quote about embracing a new you, and the font was raised and shadowed to create movement. It looked like some sort of science fiction or futuristic ad.
“What is this?” I asked. “I sent you the ad for Fresh Eyes. This… this isn’t it.”
“Yes.” He folded his hands in front of him. “I received your ad and although it is fundamentally correct, I found it to be lacking in certain… appeal. To be honest, it was a little boring, and that’s not who we are. So, I stayed up late last night and put together something more… attractive to submit to the client.”
The ad I’d sent Chad was the result of hours of research and work. “Janine at Fresh Eyes asked me for something family oriented. I submitted the ad, along with three others, to my focus group, and that’s the one they selected. It scored extremely high. I can get you the results, if you’d like.”
His patronizing smile returned in full force. “We’re not looking for the best of four, Jessica. We’re looking for the best of the best, and your ad doesn’t stand out. It’s not new or interesting. It doesn’t compel me to want to buy anything. Whereas this ad makes eye surgery seem like an adventure.”
I was clearly arguing with an idiot, so I dumbed down my message. “Fresh Eyes LASIK has eight locations in the Pacific Northwest, each staffed with reputable surgeons who don’t want to be seen as an adventure, or a mission to Mars, or whatever this promises.” I picked up his ad and waved it around in the air. “They want a family friendly ad aimed at serious patients between the ages of twenty-five and forty. That’s exactly what I sent you and what I intend to send the client.”
