27. Twenty-first century luxuries
27
TWENTY-FIRST CENTURY LUXURIES
“S uch a good girl… you’re such a good girl.” Will’s whispered voice breaks through my sleepy stupor, a slow, lazy smile spreading across my face. I snuggle deep into my covers and continue to pretend to sleep while my boyfriend (yes, you heard that right—we started calling it what it is) praises my cat and gives her treats.
Three weeks ago, Will and I decided to finally come clean about how we feel about each other. Since then, we’ve been together nearly every free moment we’ve had. Sure, I had to break up with Dr. Sloane first—or whatever the hell it’s called when the guy actually shows up for the date but you reject him before you even go out on it—and it was awkward AF. Though I have to admit, he was a super great sport about it.
“I should’ve known,” he said after I informed him I couldn’t go out with him.
I told him Will and I had just had a talk about how we felt about each other, and it turned out we wanted to explore that. I wanted to be as honest as possible. In a city full of grifters and fuck-boys, Declan Sloane was an outlier—a good guy. He deserved the truth.
“The way he looked at you… the way you looked at him for support. I should’ve known. Especially after the whole—” He waved his hand vaguely in the air and shook his head. “Never mind.”
I grimaced, feeling the bile rise in my throat because I am an awful person. I mean, who agrees to go out on a date with someone when they have feelings for someone else? Horrible people, that’s who.
But once he assured me he understood the situation, and I apologized for the third time, I told him he seemed like an extraordinary man who any person would be lucky to have. Dr. Sloane smiled and hugged me, wishing us both the best of luck.
It was all very civilized.
I don’t really know Dr. Sloane, but it was nice to get someone’s blessing for our relationship. After our argument, Molly and I hadn’t exactly been on speaking terms. Besides team meetings we were forced to attend together, we hadn’t shared the same space in a while or said more than a passing “Hello.” She was avoiding me, and I refused to allow a “friend” to treat me like a joke. And since I was no longer the going out type, my other friends from before Roger were nowhere to be found.
Besides Will, lately, I’ve been feeling like my close friend circle has dwindled down to… Well, no one, actually. Once I began to ghost Will, Loneliness became my constant companion.
I’m glad he’s back in my life. But more than that, I’m glad that he’s back in my life the way that I want him in my life. Not as my pen pal. Not as my best friend. Not even as my friend with amazing benefits.
He’s in my life as my partner, and I’ve never been happier.
Ginger purrs loudly from the foot of the bed where I watch through one eye as a shirtless Will smiles down at her. They look completely enamored with each other, which makes me fall deeper for him still.
Ginger hated Roger. Ginger hated all of my exes, actually. But I have a feeling she’d go to the ends of the earth for Will. I have a feeling she’d give up her favorite banana catnip toy for him.
“Your mommy and I love you soooo much,” he tells her, his voice slipping accidentally into baby talk. I melt into the mattress—I’m sure of it. “We love you soooo much.”
I can’t help it any longer. I sit up and crawl toward him, wrapping my arms around his waist from behind.
“Good morning,” I whisper in his ear before pressing a kiss to his neck.
I sense his smile when his hands come over mine, holding me to him. “Good morning.”
“Are you trying to buy my cat’s love?”
He scoffs. “No need to. I already have it.”
Ginger jumps off the bed and retreats to her chair, giving us space.
I snort and kiss him a second time. A third. Suck into the place between his shoulder and neck. When he moans my name, a shot of heat courses through my entire body.
My hands begin to travel over his abs down to where I can tell he’s already hard and waiting. But he catches them before I meet the waistband of his pajama bottoms with a groan.
“Baby,” he begs, his breathing growing ragged. “I can’t. I have to go in early today. Remember? I told you.”
I sigh and let go of him, throwing myself with a frustrated huff back onto the mattress.
With a laugh, he crawls up my body, raising his undershirt that I wore to bed as he goes. With every inch of skin he exposes, he places at least one kiss. When our bodies line up perfectly, Will places a soft peck on my nose, drops his forehead to mine.
“I’m putting in my notice today,” he whispers, his eyes tight, brows pulled together.
I gasp, pushing us both up to sitting positions, my shirt riding back down. “Are you serious?”
He nods and runs his fingers through his hair, looking out the window briefly as he settles onto his heels.
“But… I mean, how long have you been thinking about this? It can’t be that long, since I’m just finding out. Maybe you should take some time to think it through. I know you’re tired and have been working some crazy long hours, but you should probably find another job before and then?—”
He takes my hands in his and places a soft kiss on my lips to cut me off. “Bridge,” he starts again. “I’ve been thinking of doing this for a while—just been waiting for the right time to leave. I’m sorry I haven’t told you. But we’ve been trying to separate work from our personal life, remember? We agreed not to go into too much detail.”
I nod once before he continues.
“Honestly, it’s overdue. Things are crazy, my boss is insane and borderline abusive, and I don’t like the practices they set forward in their everyday business operations.”
I raise a brow, intrigued. “What do you mean? If they’re doing something sketchy, you need to tell me because Sartoria & Co. shouldn’t?—”
He laughs once, rueful. “See? I couldn’t go into much detail because it would’ve caused potential conflicts.”
“Will, if Stevenson is doing anything illegal?—”
“It’s nothing like that. They’re fine, and your company isn’t at risk working with them, other than that they’re extremely difficult—but I’m sure by the number of orders you’ll receive it’s bound to pay off. Somehow.” He sighs before continuing. “Honestly, it’s more so that they’re greedy. And the new corporate structure values margin and profit over reputation and morals—I’m sure you’ve seen it in the email exchanges and the one meeting you were at. And I mean, I get it. It’s a business. The entire point is for them to make money. But I feel as though there should be some shred of integrity in what we do, right? Like, there should be a point where you stop trying to stretch the margin.”
I understand his frustration—but only to a point. I’ve only seen the cost-cutting, profit-hungry side of Stevenson from our side, as vendors. I haven’t experienced the day-to-day demoralization of employees through new company policies that sully their brand name. But I believe it because the attitude is there. The frustration is evident in every single email response from the client, in everything their Chief Merchandising Officer and her team says and does. Iris insists it’s the higher-ups putting pressure on them, which tracks with everything Will tells me.
He lets out a groan and throws himself on his back, staring up at the ceiling.
Sensing he has more to say, I remain quiet and let him take a moment before he continues.
“I hate the constant battle of putting out shitty products and doing layoffs, making people work three different jobs because we want to cut corners when we don’t need to. Management thinks they’re doing all this to set the company up for success but, in my opinion, all it’s doing is setting it up for failure.
“Employees are unhappy, which means they care less, so their work is subpar. Turnover is increasing rapidly. The quality of our products is going down—be it because we ask our vendors, like Sartoria & Co., to lower their own standards or because we don’t have as many people doing QA tests so many issues slip through the cracks. I mean, we first went to you guys to revamp our private label brand because you have an outstanding reputation for quality and sustainability. And suddenly they want to cut corners left and right, completely defeating the purpose of why we did it. Make it make sense, you know?
“And honestly? I fucking hate the job in general. I hate being the bad guy. I hate it when my boss makes me do things I don’t want to do and then tells me to claim the ideas as my own. I hate what it entails. Yes, the money has been fantastic, but I’m good now and none of it is worth any of this anymore. And while, if I’m being honest, I don’t have a single fucking idea what I want to do with my life, I know for damn sure it isn’t this.”
His eyes are wild, his breathing a little shaky. I’ve known he’s been frustrated with work for a long time, but never to this degree. Because of our agreement, Will has kept a lot under wraps, it seems.
“How long have you been feeling this way?” I ask. “I mean, you had mentioned it before—to an extent. But how long have you felt so unhappy?”
“Pretty much since the day before I even started working there,” he admits in a whisper.
I gasp. “Will. You mean to tell me that for five years you’ve hated every second of your job?”
“Yeah.”
“Why didn’t you leave sooner?”
Something flashes in his eyes. Uncertainty. Hesitation. “I— I made a commitment, remember. And I simply wasn’t in a position to leave.”
And that’s Will, always loyal, no matter what. Even if it hurts him, he stays true to a fault.
But loyalty aside, five years is a lot . I find it difficult to believe Will wasn’t in a position to leave. Did he mean he couldn’t find a job? I already told him once before his intelligence and charm would make him a shoe-in anywhere. But maybe that’s just my love for him talking. Though I find that very difficult to believe. Besides the occasional cover hogging, Will has proven to be nothing short of perfect every day that I’ve met him.
“You could’ve left sooner. No one would’ve faulted you for it if you were unhappy.”
He stares up at the ceiling, pensive for a moment. “Maybe not. But I wasn’t in a position to.”
“And you are now? Financially, I mean? Since I suppose that’s what you’re talking about.”
He nods. “That’s also part of why I’ve waited so long. I had some… stocks that officially vested this morning. Now I can sell them and put the money somewhere safe. That, combined with everything I’ve saved over the years should be enough to hold me for some time. More than enough. I had an unexpected big expense recently but…” He looks at me. “It was worth every penny. And I can manage for a bit.”
“Huh? What unexpected expense?”
He sighs, eyes glazed over. “I just… need to figure out what’s next.”
I nod and lean down to give him another kiss. Softer, this time. Gentle. “It’ll be okay,” I whisper against his lips.
He shrugs. “I’m sure this all sounds super attractive, right? A man in his thirties who has no idea what he wants to do when he grows up?”
I snort. “Who the hell does ? That’s such a luxury, Will. Don’t you think? Most of us…” I take a deep breath. “Most of us are just surviving ninety nine percent of the time, Will. That’s why I try my hardest to focus on the good. The silver lining.” I bend down and kiss him on the cheek this time.
He rolls his eyes, but there’s a small smile on his face. “You and your silver lining.”
His frustration makes me laugh. “Seriously. Like, doesn’t it feel like an enormous privilege? Being in the exact industry you want to be— knowing what you want. I find it hard to believe that can exist for the majority of people nowadays.”
“You seem to be in the right industry. In the right job.”
I purse my lips for a moment as I think through his words. “Yes. I think I am—at least for now. I think it’s the first time I feel passionate about something, and I’d love for it to turn into something bigger. But who knows where I’ll be in a year? Or five. Or ten, for that matter. And that’s a horrible thing to say, but sometimes it feels like the truest thing. We’re all here, doing the best that we can. All we can do is live life the best way we know how, surrounded by the people who make us happy.”
He smiles and pulls me down to his chest, wrapping me in his arms so that I can fit snuggly into that perfect nook that I’ve claimed as my own. “Like you?” He kisses the top of my head. Inhales deeply, filling his lungs so much my head rises with the movement.
My smile is goofy and embarrassing. “I make you happy?”
“You make me the happiest, Bridge. Always. Forever.”
I press my lips together to physically keep myself from revealing how I really feel. How much I care about him.
* * *
Later, at work, Will’s words from this morning have me living in a love-filled haze. If I were a cartoon, I’d bet everything I own, every last dime in my bank account, I’d be surrounded by a cloud of pink fog with hearts in my eyes and a goofy grin slapped on my face. I’m sure I’d almost be running into anything I walk by, not paying attention to a single thing around me while a chorus sings nothing but love songs in my head.
Yeah, I’ve got it bad.
So bad, in fact, I don’t hear Lena the first three times she calls my name from her office. It’s not until she walks over and shakes my shoulder that I realize anyone is even talking to me.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” she hisses.
“Sorry, I— I spaced out.”
With a roll of her eyes, she scoffs. “Come on. We need to go.”
“Need to go… Where exactly?” I ask, a bit terrified by the manic look in her eyes.
“Let’s take a coffee break. Outside. Coffee shop a couple of blocks away.”
“Lena, what’s happening?” I let her drag me to the elevators, coats left behind.
“I can’t talk about this on company property. So let’s go.”