27. Emma
27
Emma
“ I slept with Garrett,” I blurt out with exactly zero tact or context. A second ago, we were talking about a new cupcake shop that moved in next to our office.
Margot’s eyes go wide. She chokes on a sip of wine, startling Purrnando awake from his spot between us on the sofa.
“Garrett who?” she asks after a long, dramatic pause.
I drop my head to one side. “Garrett North, obviously.”
“Emma, there is nothing remotely obvious about that,” she says with her hands as much as with her mouth. Her wine splashes over the side of her glass, a few drops landing on her jeans. Margot wipes the spot a couple times with her palm then sets her glass down on the coffee table. When she sits back against the sofa with her legs curled underneath, her eyes narrow on mine. “How did it happen? Did you accidentally eat the wrong type of mushroom and mistake Garrett for a Hemsworth brother or something?”
“Not exactly.”
“Did you get kicked in the head by a moose? Should I drive you to the hospital to be evaluated for a concussion?”
“No, it just…happened.” I admit, sparing her the details of our first tipsy kiss in Park City and what happened later on the plane. He’s still her boss, after all, even if she reports to his brother instead. I sigh and avert my eyes, picking a piece of cat hair off my black leggings. “He was different on our trip. I feel like I got to know the real Garrett without all the day-to-day frustrations and bullshit. And I guess I sort of like that version of Garrett.”
Just when I thought that Margot’s eyes couldn’t possibly get any wider without popping out of their sockets, she proves me wrong. The noise she makes is part objection, part surprise, and maybe a little bit of a dry heave.
This is exactly why I needed to tell her over the weekend, before Garrett and I get back to the office and Margot figures it out on her own. And she would. Margot is astute, and she knows me far too well. In any other scenario, I’d say I know her well enough to gage her reaction. But in this particular scenario, it was anyone’s guess.
“Wait,” she demands, flapping her hand in the air like she’s batting away the words I just said out loud. “So, this wasn’t a one-time thing fueled by thin mountain air and delirious exhaustion? You guys are, like, sleeping together ? Present tense?”
“Well, I mean, not right this second…but yes, present tense.”
“And you like him?”
I nod slowly. “I’m having some very distinct and intense feelings toward him.”
Margot dips her chin and stares me dead in the eyes. She hesitates for a second and then asks, barely above a whisper, “Do you more than like him?”
I’m not going to lie, at least not to myself – another four-letter L word has entered the very confusing arena of my brain, where it’s battling it out with a plethora of other strange and unexpected emotions. It isn’t love – at least, not yet – but I can see myself falling for Garrett.
However, I’m not ready to put those words out there into the universe yet. Not even in the privacy of my own apartment with no one but my best friend and my cat to hear them.
“I’m not sure yet,” I say truthfully. “I don’t want to get my hopes up too high. Obviously, this situation is complicated, and…”
The words stick in my throat.
“And what, Em?” Margot asks softly.
A big breath puffs out my cheeks. I release it slowly while picking another stray cat hair off my leggings. “I’m worried that things won’t be the same now that we’re back in Denver. I’m worried that he’ll go back to his grumpy ways once the stress starts creeping back in, and I don’t think we could survive that.”
Margot nods sympathetically. “I get it, but it’s worth giving it a shot, right?”
“Yeah, of course. I’m just not ready to throw my whole heart into it until I feel things out back in the office,” I say, throwing myself a mini pity party. “Let’s talk about something else. Was Purrnando on his best behavior at your apartment?”
“You know he was,” she gushes. “We called him purrfect Purrnando the whole time.”
“You and Jeremy?” I ask, unable to picture Margot’s finance bro boyfriend speaking those words out loud.
“No, I meant me and Purrnando…so just me. I’m not even sure if Jeremy noticed he was there.” She laughs but it sounds forced.
I draw my eyebrows together in confusion. My cat stayed with them for three whole weeks. How is it possible that her live-in boyfriend didn’t notice a rambunctious orange fluffball in his apartment for that long?
“He’s been working a lot,” Margot explains preemptively, leaning forward to take another sip of her wine. “But it’s fine. I’ve had a lot of long days at the office lately too with you and Garrett gone. Things will go back to normal soon.”
“Yeah,” I agree quietly, taking a sip of my wine. That’s exactly what I’m afraid of .
“QUITTING DAY!” My computer announces in big, bold letters when I fire it up on Monday morning.
One year ago today, I started working for a man named Garrett North and counting down the days until I could quit. Now that the day has finally arrived, I don’t even want to think about it. Quickly closing out of the calendar alert, I try my best to shake it off and get to work.
After three weeks away, being back in the office feels a lot like crash landing on an alien planet. The fluorescent lights are too harsh yet too dull at the same time. My ergonomic desk chair feels like a mystery to be solved. I spend a good chunk of the morning messing with the lever under the seat, plummeting to the ground with a dramatic whoosh then overcorrecting and launching my thighs into the underside of my desk. The dry, stagnant office air sits all wrong on my skin and in my lungs. And the constant, low chatter of my coworkers puts me strangely on edge.
I think I actually miss the great outdoors.
I miss Garrett, too.
Peeling my strained eyes away from my computer, I glance through the large glass wall to my left. Garrett is sitting at his desk with one hand absentmindedly rubbing his beard, which is short and tidy again as of this morning. The other hand is planted on his computer mouse, scrolling endlessly through emails.
We decided to give each other space today, both to catch up on our work and to adjust to our new dynamic now that we’re back in the office. Aside from a quick greeting this morning, we haven’t spoken all day.
Garrett’s jaw flexes and his hands move to his keyboard. His eyes flick from the screen down to his fingers as he types something then back up again, connecting with mine over the top of the monitor. His fingers still and his chest expands with a deep breath. A smile plays at the corners of my mouth. When he smiles back, my heart picks up a beat in my chest.
But his smile morphs into a frown when his eyes shift to my right. I glance over to find Ethan striding toward Garrett’s office, looking angrier than I’ve ever seen him. He steps inside and closes the door behind him. Although muffled by the thick pane of glass, Ethan raises his voice enough to make me jump slightly out of my chair. Garrett’s muscles tense and Ethan’s hand gestures become wilder and more agitated. I snap my eyes back to my computer screen and pretend to work while straining to listen to snippets of their conversation.
A minute later, Margot flies around the corner and stops dead in her tracks when she sees Ethan in Garrett’s office.
“Great,” she mutters with a roll of her eyes.
“What’s going on?” I ask quietly.
Margot walks over to my desk and perches on the edge of the chair across from me. She glances nervously at the two men in the office and then back to me.
“Garrett suspended some large POs for some of our suppliers pending quality assurance reviews. And surprise, surprise…they’re pissed. Ethan’s been on the phone with them all morning,” she explains in a low voice.
“Which suppliers?” I ask, even though I think I already know the answer.
“Mostly apparel.”
I swallow dryly and nod. I should have known Garrett wouldn’t let the broken bag incident go that easily.
“I’ll talk to him,” I say just in time for a ‘Goddamn it!’ to boom through the glass. Margot and I both glance over to find Ethan pacing in front of Garrett’s desk. He throws his hands up and shakes his head then marches to the door, throwing it open. Ethan catches us both staring and gives us a stiff nod before walking off toward his office.
Margot’s cheeks puff out and she releases a slow, deep breath. “I guess I better go try to calm him down.”
“Good luck,” I say. “I’ll talk to Garrett and see what I can do.”
We both stand up at the same time. Margot disappears around the corner while I head for Garrett’s office. I close the door and turn around, watching him from across the room.
“Everything okay?” I ask cautiously.
“Yeah, my brother’s just being dramatic.” Garrett seems mostly unaffected by Ethan’s outburst.
With a deep, steeling breath, I cross the room and take a seat across from Garrett. He smiles at me, probably for the first time ever within the confines of this office, and my heart melts a little.
“Margot just informed me that you’re suspending open purchase orders with some of our apparel suppliers and leaving Ethan to deal with the fallout.”
His mouth straightens and his posture shifts. “I haven’t cancelled any orders, just delayed them until we conduct a quality assurance review of their products.”
“Okay, so you just insulted them and then put their six-figure purchase order on hold indefinitely...”
Garrett cocks his head at me like this is foreplay rather than a serious discussion. Maybe because we just spent our first night apart in three weeks, so everything feels like foreplay right now.
“I reviewed the contracts,” he says. “We’re well within our rights to do so.”
“This is about my bag, right?” I counter impatiently.
Garrett leans back in his chair with a sigh. “It’s about all the items that Taylor provided you with for this trip.” I open my mouth to object, but Garrett cuts me off. “And before you go jumping to any conclusions, it has nothing to do with the way you looked in any of it. You know I wanted to tear off every single pair of leggings you wore on that trip. It’s solely a matter of quality.”
“I wasn’t wearing True North clothing on our trip,” I admit.
“I’m aware that some of it was your own. Obviously, I know that we don’t sell shirts that say ‘Life’s a Party with Gerbils’ in our stores. Or at least, I hope we don’t.”
The fact that he has no further questions about that t-shirt is astounding to me, but that’s not the point.
“No, Garrett, I’m saying that none of it was from our stores. Not a single item, not even the backpack.”
His mouth clamps shut, and his eyes narrow. After a few long seconds, he finally asks, “Why not?”
No part of me wants to answer that question. I knew it needed to be brought to his attention eventually, but I’m no keener to discuss it now than I was before we started sleeping together. Now more than ever, I want Garrett to see me as confident and desirable. That day in Taylor’s office transported me straight back to a time when I was a chubby little girl whose mom would get angry when I couldn’t fit into the normal, cute kids’ clothes.
“Something happened,” I say slowly, averting my eyes down to the desk between us.
Garrett’s brows pull together. “Tell me.”
“I need you to hear me out before you go all nuclear about this.”
He nods reluctantly.
I draw a deep breath and choose my words carefully. “When I went to Taylor’s office before the trip, it became clear that our sizing isn’t in line with industry standards for women’s clothing.”
If I thought this would be enough to get my point across, the confused look on Garrett’s face proves me wrong.
“The sizing is off,” I clarify. “ Way off. Women’s letter sizes that should be a numeric size sixteen fit more like a size ten. We’re also lacking any extended sizing. Extra-large is only available on our website, and there are no plus-sized options at all beyond that. Considering that the average American woman wears a size sixteen, we’re sending the message that they’re not good enough or skinny enough to shop at our stores.” Emotions well up in my chest, but I tamp them down and steer back to business. “And it’s definitely cutting into your bottom line. Not only will plus-sized women avoid the store altogether, but even a size six woman won’t want to shop at a store where she can barely squeeze into a medium pair of pants. And if they’re put off by our sizing options, they’re unlikely to buy other items from our stores. It’s definitely a problem.”
Garrett ponders this for a moment. His tongue pokes at his cheek like he’s trying out words before he releases them into the wild. I brace myself for whatever he’s about to say.
“What about everything else? The hiking bag? Your shoes?”
“I bought them all myself from another store.”
“Why? Taylor could have provided those things at least, right?”
“I’m sure she could have, but after the sizing debacle, I was feeling a little frustrated, and to be honest…embarrassed. It was easier to tell her I had it all covered.”
Garrett’s expression softens. “Emma…”
I shake my head. “I know you want to make me feel better, but I promise I’m fine. What I really need from you right now is to be in boss mode rather than boyfriend mode. I don’t want to get emotional about this at work. I just want you to understand the problem and decide how to fix it.”
I swallow down my embarrassment over calling him my boyfriend despite never having ‘the talk.’ Luckily, Garrett seems unfazed by the word.
“Alright,” he says with his eyes still raking over my features. “You know more about women’s apparel than I do. You have a degree in fashion design, right?” I nod. “Tell me what you think the best course of action is.”
His hand is squeezed into a tight fist on his desk. He’s stopping himself from reaching for me. From comforting me. As much as I want his touch, I appreciate the fact that he’s honoring my request.
“Well, I honestly don’t think Taylor means any harm by it. She’s a petite woman, and she might not understand the scope of the problem. She seems to be under the impression that there wouldn’t be a market for larger or extended sizes in our stores. If you could spare me, I’d be happy to spend some time working with her and finding a solution for resizing our in-house brand.”
“Aren’t you leaving soon?” he asks with a devilish smirk.
“Yes, once I find another job, but since I haven’t yet…”
“…I get to boss you around a bit longer?” he finishes with an eyebrow suggestively raised.
Of all the things I miss about our trip, the thing I miss the most is being able to pounce on Garrett without a whole office of people around to witness it.
“Perhaps,” I say coyly. I flash him a suggestive smile before making my way back to my desk.