Mess

Chapter Nine Eric, Again

Chapter Nine

Eric, Again

T he next day, Jane told Esmé, “We should spread out, divide and conquer.” They had worked industriously side by side the day before, but the office was almost done, and Jane wanted some solitude and to avoid any chance of getting lashed by that ponytail.

There was a lot of work to be done in Eric’s closet, and Esmé readily agreed to tackle it.

When it was time for lunch, Jane stopped to check in on Esmé. For all her faults, Esmé was very competent. Every drawer had been emptied and there were neat stacks of clothes everywhere, making the room seem even fuller, almost claustrophobic.

Esmé shrugged. “It’s a little daunting but I’m making progress. How about you?”

“The same.”

“Where do you want to eat?”

Jane hadn’t planned on having company, but she reminded herself she was trying to be open-hearted. “It’s nice outside, so let’s eat in the yard.”

When the dogs realized they were not going to be fed by Jane and Esmé, they were entirely uninterested, and each one went to a different part of the yard, plopped down, and soaked in the autumn sun.

Jane took a seat across from Esmé.

“Your bento box is so on point,” Esmé cooed. “I wish I could put my lunches together like that.”

“It’s my routine. I prepare enough for the week on Monday, so it’s really easy to throw together.”

“Throw together, ha! It’s absolutely elegant, a work of art. And it looks pretty tasty, too!” Esmé, about to bite into her burrito, paused. “Jane, have you had a review with Audrey recently?”

Audrey was one of the cofounders of the company. She had a relentlessly upbeat and bubbly personality that masked hard-boiled business instincts. But those attributes could coexist, Jane reminded herself.

“No, it’s been almost a year now, I’m probably due. How about you?”

“Mine was last week.”

Some of the filling of Esmé’s burrito oozed onto her chin.

“How did it go?” Jane asked, picking at a cold piece of broccoli.

“Very well. They really like the content I make for the Insta.”

“Yeah, it’s great.”

“Thanks. I’m going to ask Eric if I can shoot some stuff when I finish his closet.”

Jane rolled a grape in her fingers. “You should.”

“So... how long do you have to work for them before you get a raise?” Esmé wondered. “Have they ever thought about a partnership arrangement? We all work hard and this is a woman-owned company and we are all women.”

“It was about a year before I got a raise,” Jane told her.

“It’s true, they charge the clients a lot more for our services than what they pay us, but businesses are like that.

” She shrugged. “I’d love a partnership agreement, but it’s never going to happen.

The cost of overhead is always a good excuse for them. ”

Esmé was listening attentively. “You’re totally right. You know, I really admire you, Jane.”

Jane tried not to look shocked. “You do?”

“Yes, you’re always so focused, and you’re so good at this. I’m a little intimidated when we’re paired up.”

There it was again, that warm inner glow.

“Well, that is so sweet, Esmé. I always wish I could do more and do it better.”

“Hi, perfectionist!”

Jane laughed.

“Yes, guilty as charged. It’s not necessarily the road to happiness, is it?”

“Oh, I know it’s not; I’m right there with you!”

Jane realized she was beginning to like Esmé.

Jane was organizing stacks of scripts when the dogs all came to life, barking and baying. Eric strode past the open door of the office trailed by another man. A few minutes later, he was back.

“Sorry, Jane, could you join us in the closet? This is sort of an all-hands-on-deck situation.”

“Of course.”

And that was where Jane encountered Mitchell, hovering over Esmé, emanating exasperation.

“I just don’t see how it is at all possible that you can’t find it.” Esmé was flustered but doing her best to cover.

“Mitchell, this is Jane. She’s going to help find it.”

Mitchell had a meticulously curated ersatz surfer look. He gave Jane a wan smile, then pointed at Eric.

“You all have your work cut out for you, because he lives for his mess!”

Eric shot back, “My affinity for messiness is why I put up with you for so long!” It seemed like friendly repartee, but not without an unmistakable tinge of acid.

Clearly, Mitchell was the ex-boyfriend Mia had been going on about the day before.

He seemed like the type who came to LA thinking his looks and sparkle would precipitate a downpour of money and fame, but instead ended up with copious amounts of debt and a demoralizing service job on the fringes of the entertainment industry.

Eric turned to Jane. “Mitchell is convinced his favorite shirt is in here somewhere.”

“I’ve looked all over and can’t find it.” Esmé’s ponytail was limp, inert.

“It’s my favorite T-shirt. It’s James Perse, in this shade of blue that’s hard to find and the fit is perfect and, Eric, you told me you had set it aside for me!” Mitchell whined.

Esmé indicated a shelf of meticulously folded and stacked T-shirts that went from midnight blue to sky blue. “It’s not in the blues over there, and that’s where all the T-shirts are.”

Jane realized she had the answer. “Oh wait! There’s a plastic grocery bag with a blue shirt in it in your office.”

Eric palmed his forehead.

“Oh duh, of course! I had put it in there because you said you were coming to get it, Mitchell.”

“Well how nice of you to remember! Jesus,” Mitchell sniped.

“Mitchell, I have a lot on my mind, a lot more than your fucking favorite T-shirt. Jane will bring you the bag and you can find your own way out.”

“I wanted to spend time with the dogs!” Mitchell protested.

“They could use a break from you, Mitchell. We could all use a break from you! Please get your T-shirt and go.”

It was already getting dark when Esmé and Jane walked to their cars.

“Jane, you were the hero today! Thank god you found that shirt.”

“Just doing my job,” Jane said, reaching for her keys. “I’m sorry you got the short end of that stick.”

“I don’t care, whatevs with him. Eric was super sweet.”

“Yeah, he’s such a nice guy. I’d think he could do much better. But I guess it’s hard to find the right person.”

“Oh, so hard,” Esmé replied emphatically, then added, “You must be super nostalgic about Spellbound .”

“What do you mean?”

“I saw you take one of the box sets yesterday.”

Jane blanched. “Oh that, well—”

“Jane, it’s no big deal. I saw you slip it into your tote.”

Jane glanced down at her Goyard tote. Its provenance compounded her shame, and made her worry that eagle-eyed Esmé was speculating about how she had acquired it.

“I would never take anything of value.”

“Listen, I’ve been tempted. These people have so much stuff! But I need a really firm boundary between work and life, and for me, it would be like taking my work home.”

Jane resorted to her last line of defense: absolute candor. Well, almost. “You got me, I gave in just this once and of course you saw. He has so many duplicates, and they were all going to storage, so I knew it wouldn’t be missed. But I hope you won’t tell anyone, I’m so embarrassed.”

“Jane, they don’t pay us enough, really. Enjoy it!”

This sounded so patronizing. Jane felt provoked and she felt exposed, and it was all the worse because she had thought she was starting to like Esmé.

“I enjoyed working with you today, Esmé,” Jane told her as evenly as possible. “Drive safe!”

“Thanks, Jane! I love working with you!” Esmé exclaimed, ponytail bobbing for emphasis.

When she got home, Jane only wanted to curl up in bed, kick back, and watch more of Kelsey’s witch show.

Nonetheless, she couldn’t crawl into bed because she had plans. She had a Bumble date. There’d been intermittent text exchanges with Teddy, but she wasn’t sure if there would ever be a thaw, or if at this point she even wanted one.

Jane checked the time. If the guy wasn’t punctual, the date would be over before it started. A girl had to have some standards.

She wore jeans, a blouse, and one of her Hermès scarves. The flashiest thing she’d done was to apply the crimson red lipstick Kelsey had given her, and even that made her feel a bit licentious.

Dating in November, with the holidays looming, was fraught.

The mass frenzy from Thanksgiving to Christmas to New Year’s Eve—an orgy of gratuitous consumption and bathetic emotional display—was hard to navigate.

Her first choice was to duck and cover and get through it, but without Teddy, she wondered if it would be lonely.

At five minutes past eight o’clock (a few minutes late so as not to appear overly eager), Jane walked into the restaurant and spotted Jake sitting at the bar.

He was nursing a beer, immersed in his iPhone.

He was a lawyer who probably worked long days, then fielded emails all night.

He was the sort of man her parents would want her to marry.

Jake was so absorbed by whatever he was doing on his phone—maybe it wasn’t work, maybe it was Raya or Tinder or Hinge, because lord knows everyone was hedging their bets—that he didn’t see her approach.

“Hi. I’m Jane.”

He put down his phone, giving her a toothy smile as he rose to his feet. He was as tall as advertised, over six feet, and had preppy good looks. That augured well for the accuracy of the rest of his profile.

“Hey, Jane. I’m Jake.”

She saw him discreetly giving her a full body scan, assessing assets and defects. Men embraced their superficiality, which was refreshing in its way.

“So nice to meet you.” He motioned to the bar. “Are you good to sit here?”

“Here is good.”

He pulled out a chair. “What can I get you to drink?”

“They have a Sancerre by the glass I like.” Jane had chosen this restaurant because she was a regular.

Jake waved over the bartender and ordered the wine and another beer for himself.

“So how was your day, Jane?”

“Well, the best thing about my job—I’m an organizer—is that I work in a different environment almost every day, so it’s never boring. The client today was messy, but a sweetheart. And what about your day?”

“Boring! I’m a lawyer, so it’s the office, the phone, the computer, endless documents. I never wanted to be a trial lawyer, but I love my firm; still, it can get monotonous if I’m being honest. Which I am for some reason....”

The way he was abashed by inadvertent self-revelation was adorable.

“I like honesty. In fact, I think I heard somewhere that it’s the best policy.”

He laughed. His laugh was hearty, infectious. Sexy even. “One hundred percent.”

They caught each other’s gaze, then Jane looked away, almost blushing. Dating made her feel like a repressed Victorian maiden in a Charlotte Bronte novel. It was a little scary, but then again, there was something exhilarating about it.

Jane was, to her surprise, very attracted to Jake, to his all-American good looks, his sense of humor, his crooked smile. And he had a job, a real job, even if, as he had confessed, he didn’t like it very much.

He insisted on walking Jane to her car. This was the awkward moment. How would they part? She was trying not to presume his level of interest in her.

“I really enjoyed meeting you, Jane.”

“Same here, Jake.”

He rested his hand lightly on her arm. “Then we should do this again sometime—we can do an entire meal, not just a drink.”

“I’d like that.”

As he leaned in to kiss her, she offered her cheek.

He gave her a light, lingering kiss that made her spine tingle.

She actually giggled. Then she looked up at him and planted one on his lips.

For a moment, Jane felt young and reckless, but then she pulled away and told Jake that she had to get home.