Ashlei
Growing up as the middle child, competitiveness has always been a part of who I am.
I was always working to stand out, to not be ignored or forgotten.
It was easy for my parents to forget about me, with having an incredibly smart oldest daughter and an incredibly athletic youngest one.
I was still there, excelling at nearly everything I did, but it was nothing my parents cared about.
So, when my internship was extended, my parents beamed like it was the first solid thing I’d ever accomplished in my life.
Dad bragged about me at the country club over winter break, saying I would be the best event planner in south Florida, and Mom took me shopping for more amazing outfits to help me feel as great on the outside as I did on the inside when I walked into Okay, Cool.
But if they could see me today, I know they’d be disappointed.
It’s Wednesday, which usually means everyone is in great spirits. We’re halfway to the weekend, the hardest meetings of the week are done, and for all intents and purposes, it’s a good day of the week. But today? Well, today feels a hell of a lot like a Monday.
“Do you have that report on Kiki Kween’s athletic apparel line yet?” Kimberly asks, swinging into my cube like an unwanted, buzzing gnat.
I sigh, still tapping away on my keyboard and not even glancing up at her. “Working on it now.”
“It was due to me EOD yesterday,” she says, using the acronym for end of day like it makes her more powerful. She checks her watch. “And it’s already three.”
“I’ll get it to you.”
There’s no use in telling her that Holly assigned me two other, more pressing tasks since we last divvied up the responsibilities for the Kiki Kween account.
Or that I’m on my period, cramping like a sonofabitch and trying not to die.
None of it would matter to Kimberly, and the last thing I’d ever do is admit any kind of weakness to her.
Instead, I aim for indifference, like I don’t really care that I missed a deadline that she made after we were assigned the account.
“When?”
“Soon.”
Kimberly rolls her eyes, a frustrated huff leaving her bright pink lips as she stomps away. When she’s gone, I let out my own sigh, slumping back in my chair before closing my eyes and rubbing my temples.
It’s been a hell of a week.
Between my classes and the internship, I’ve barely had time to eat.
Add in the fact that Erin has been extra demanding since she became president, expecting more of me as her right-hand woman, and you could say that I might be in six feet of water with no heels to get me high enough to breathe.
But this is who I am, and this is what women like me do — we push, we work hard, and we don’t make excuses.
Even when we really, really want to.
I let my hands fall from my temples, palms smacking my skirt-covered thighs before I reach into my purse for two more Midol. I pop them in my mouth, chasing them with a swish of water, and then I nearly spit it out when I glance up at the source of the new shadow over my desk.
Brandon.
I somehow manage to swallow the pills, though they feel dry in my throat despite the water.
Brandon’s brows are pulled low over his fierce eyes, one hand clutching a stack of papers as the other rests calmly in the loose pocket of his robin’s egg blue slacks.
Those slacks hang way too deliciously on his hips, his all-white dress shirt buttoned up to his neck, the top button left undone, sleeves rolled up to his elbows.
I’m checking him out. Blatantly, unapologetically.
I can’t help it. His dark skin contrasts with the light colors in his outfit choice, and the way he’s looking at me is a cross between anger and desire.
Anger wins out, the tiny flash of want slipping from behind them as he drops the papers to my desk with a thwap.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Church.”
“Do you know what these are?” he asks, ignoring my greeting.
Immediately, all the blood drains from my face, another cramp rolling through me. I’m pretty sure it’s not the crimson tide’s fault this time.
“I…” I stammer, picking up the papers and flipping through them.
I recognize some of the reports, ones I’d worked on with Kimberly, including our first assessment of the athletic line.
There are also countless emails from her to him, all with my name as the subject.
I furrow my brows. “Well, sir, it looks like some of my reports from—”
“From the accounts you’ve been assigned to this semester?
Yes. There are also countless emails from Kimberly to me, with explicit, color-coded mistakes you’ve made.
From typos in a report to missing deadlines and everything in-between.
” My stomach drops as his eyes grow colder.
“I’ve received at least three every single week. ”
My jaw pops open, but I clamp it shut again, swallowing down the urge to curse her name and rip her greasy hair from her skull.
“Sir, I apologize if Kimberly has been bothering you with this. Holly has had me working on a lot of different projects, outside of the ones Kimberly and I have been assigned to work together on, and I—”
“I don’t want excuses, Miss Daniels. What I want is to not have to open an email with your name as the subject line from her ever again.
I don’t care what that takes on your end, just make sure it happens.
I’m the CEO of a Fortune 500 company. I don’t have time to read emails about an intern not doing her job. ”
Heat climbs up my neck, tingeing my cheeks as I press my lips into a thin line. “Yes, sir.”
Brandon’s jaw ticks at that, but if it affects him the way I mean for it to, he doesn’t show it. Instead, he turns on the heels of his designer, leather shoes, and I watch his muscular back until it disappears around the corner.
My stomach rolls again, this time with a new kind of sickness, and I let out a long, pained sigh.
I’m not sure if it’s because of my period, or if it’s because every possible chance I’d held onto that Brandon might come back to me, that he might let his wall down and let me back in, just disappeared into a cloud of smoke, but I’m done.
With Kimberly, with Brandon, with the whole fucking day.
I set up an out-of-office early email and pack up my bag, not even bothering to stop by Kimberly’s desk on my way out.
The only people I do say anything to is Holly, who takes one look at me and believes me when I say I’m not feeling well, and Mykayla, who offers to kick Kimberly in the twat for me.
I almost take her up on it.
When I regretfully decline, she gives me a hug, and I ride the elevator down to the lobby in silence, fighting back the urge to cry.
I consider myself a strong woman. A fierce storm. A force to be reckoned with.
But today? Right now?
I’m just a girl.
A sad, hormonal girl who needs three things and three things only: a bed, a movie, and a two-pound bag of gummy bears.
And I give myself all three.
***
I call out of work the next day.
I know I shouldn’t, that technically speaking, my cramps are gone and I should get my ass to work. But the truth is, my ego hurts worse than my uterus ever did.
Brandon treated me like the gum on the bottom of his shoe, and I’m not ready to face him again. Not yet.
So, I ditch work, and Jess and I spend the morning hanging out, rummaging through her closet and Skyler’s to find Sky the perfect outfit for tonight’s New Member bonfire.
“I tried talking Erin out of all of this,” Jess says, pulling another hoodie option from Skyler’s closet. “This whole Kip thing.”
“Yeah?”
She nods. “Yeah. I mean, I don’t even think she heard a word I said, or if she did, she chose to carefully ignore all my questions and warnings.” Jess sighs. “She’s really set on this.”
“I know. I tried talking to her, too — after Monday’s little scene with Sky. I mean, we all knew she was uncomfortable, and Erin was unusually cold that night.”
“She was. She has been, with this whole plan. It’s like she’s possessed.”
“The things we do for boys,” I said with a sigh, plucking two pairs of ripped jeans from Jess’s closet. “We can’t get her to see reason, not until she at least tries this crazy shit. All we can do is be there for Skyler and Erin both when this all goes up in flames.”
“It will go up in flames, won’t it?”
I nod. “I don’t see any other possible ending. I sure as shit don’t see it ending the way Erin thinks it will.”
Jess frowns, pausing where her hands are hovering over a long maxi skirt Skyler wore last Spring Break. “This sucks.”
“Indeed.”
As if her ears were burning, Skyler walks through the door, and Jess and I exchange a let’s do this power glance before I straighten my shoulders and toss her a handful of the hoodies we picked out. “Oh good, you’re home. Try these on.”
Skyler blinks as the hoodies hit her arms, a few of them falling to the floor. For a moment she just stares at them, then her blue eyes roll up to the ceiling.
“Are you seriously dressing me up for the bonfire? It’s a bonfire… like, outside, in the dirt.”
“And?” Jess says. “You need to look fucking hot, Sky. Try these on so we can see which one flatters you more and then we can pick accessories. And you’re lucky it’s in the dirt. We’ll settle for cute boots, though wedges would look much better.”
“You’re not freezing my toes off to look cute at a New Member bonfire.”
“I said we’ll settle for boots, grumpy pants,” Jess repeats. “Did you forget that Kip is going to be there and you haven’t talked to him or seen him in over a week?”
I cringe, opening my mouth to smooth over Jess’s hasty words and let Skyler know we’re here for her, to help, but it’s too late.
Skyler blinks, the movement more aggressive than it should be allowed to be before she claps her hands together. “Oh! Kip is going to be there? Well I’ll be damned. Must have slipped my mind.”
She pulls the first hoodie option over her head, and immediately Jess and I shake our heads, knowing it isn’t the one.
“We’re just trying to help,” I offer as she strips it off again, moving to the next.
It’s a light blue zip up with hot pink KKB letters over the chest. When she zips it up, it frames her rack perfectly, and I try my best to bring some positivity back in the room.
“Oh, I love that one! Brings out the blue in your eyes and you could show some cleavage. Put that one in the maybe pile.”
“I know you’re trying to help,” Skyler admits on a sigh, tossing the blue zip up where I told her to. “I appreciate it, I do. I’m just…”
“Nervous? Scared?” Jess probes.
“Yes.”
Jess and I exchange sad looks as Skyler’s eyes fall to the floor.
She’s the most confident out of all of us — at least, it’s always seemed that way.
Whether it was kissing a boy from another university on Spring Break or answering a dare to jump on stage and do karaoke in nothing but a swim suit, Skyler made it all look easy.
But now, standing in the room with her hair a mess from ripping another hoodie off, I can see her true colors.
Skyler is scared. She’s hurting. And she hates it.
“I just really need to push him away tonight while also making him think I’m still completely into him. It’s a mess… I’m a mess.”
Jess swallows, nodding to me to let me know she’ll take the lead. “Hey, you got this, Sky. Who has the best poker face in the game? Who can bluff their way out of a speeding ticket? Who can play every single boy for a complete fool and leave them begging for more?”
Skyler is silent, so I move toward her, handing her another hoodie option.
“You, that’s who. I’ve never seen a girl who can play the dating game as well as you do.
You get to have the fun you want without all the drama because somehow you keep every guy at just the right distance.
” I smile. “Don’t let this kid get under your skin.
You’re so close to being done with this stupid game and then you can focus on the tournament in May and more importantly, Spring Break. ”
We all chuckle at that, and I rub Skyler’s back encouragingly.
“You girls are right,” she says, a little color returning to her cheeks. “I do this all the time, I don’t know why I’m letting him get to me.”
“Just brush him off. Pick out a pair of ripped, tight-as-fuck jeans and a hot sweater and we’ll do your hair and makeup. You’ll look and feel sexy and invincible, and before you know it, you’ll be breaking his heart and moving on. End of story, next book.”
Jess tries to make it sound easy, though all three of us feel the weight of the impending task. Skyler has a lot on her shoulders, and I know we all just want it to be over with.
Skyler still looks a little sick, and for the first time, the thought crosses my mind — does she really like Kip?
I mean, I heard about the night they met, about the tequila shot. I heard about their first date, about the paddle boarding. But from a distance, it all just seemed like part of the plan.
Staring at her now, at the slump in her shoulders, the bags under her eyes, I can’t help but wonder if there’s more to her side than she’s telling us.
If I were in her shoes, if I liked a boy whom Erin liked first, one she’d laid claim to… could I walk away so easily?
I knew the answer before I even asked the question in my mind. The thought of her saying she wanted Brandon, even if it was after I’d first met him, it made me want to punch her in the tit and throw up all at once.
And she doesn’t even know Brandon.
Skyler sighs, bringing me back to the current moment. “Okay, let’s do this. Make me pretty.”
I shake my head, swallowing back the urge to cry with her out of solidarity.
Stupid period.
“You’re already pretty,” I tell her. “We’re just going to make you feel it.”
And we do. After a tight hug and a couple hours of primping, Skyler is hot enough to spark that bisexual side of me and make me want to kiss her. I know without a doubt that Kip will be putty in her hands tonight, especially after she sets her game face in place.
None of us can help her out of the particularly sticky situation she’s in, but we can be there to help her survive along the way. So, I hold her hand and Jess rubs her shoulders, giving her our final pep talks before setting her loose.
Skyler Thorne, set to win her next big game.
At least, we hope.