5. Chapter 5 #2
Now lost in the shots the photographer had taken at the very bottom of the Forbes issue.
One where he was given the front cover for being named ‘The Youngest Partner’ in the field.
A title he’s stolen from someone called Blake Davenport, who became a partner at the age of thirty-five in 2006.
I scroll past the small photo they added of him, but he was no comparison to Oliver Walters - the man who never smiled.
I know that only because I searched it to check and ended up in a Reddit thread of people talking about what it would be like to be the one who captures a photo of him smiling.
If that was even possible for someone like him.
I couldn’t deny it, though; he was drop-dead gorgeous for a grumpy sod, making him even more dangerous.
Completely unaware of my surroundings after finding a link to an issue of Sexiest Man Alive that apparently included a shirtless photo of the man I was currently stalking- it’s a few years old, but I had to look - when I felt someone grab my elbow.
Startled by the gesture, I jumped, dropping my bag on the floor, and nearly did the same with my phone.
“Jesus Christ, Lulu, you nearly made me give birth!” Macy cried, with one hand on her stomach and the other slapped on her heart.
I scared her as well as myself, begging for forgiveness, while she went on to point out she’d been calling my name a few times before she reached me, but I wasn’t responding.
I pick my bag up off the floor, and we head to the restaurant.
We were grateful to be seated right away, as the two of us were just as hungry as each other.
We skim the menu as a courtesy, though we know exactly what we want before scanning the code sticker attached to the rooster tail-shaped sticker stuck on the edge of the table.
“So, you gonna tell me what you were looking at before you practically scared me out of my knickers?” Macy asks, as a conversation starter, while we finish up our order and wait for it to arrive.
I feel my cheeks heat up as I didn’t want to admit I was ogling photos of her sexy boss because after two whole years of hearing about the man non-stop, I finally caved.
No matter how many times Macy pointed out how much I’d fancy him the moment I saw him, grump aside. I ignored it until today. I had never been curious as to what that bear of a man looked like, and all I could think of now was how much that little peek I just had might have been a mistake.
“Nothing, just job searching,” I lie, putting way too much interest in how strong an adhesive they must have used to keep these stickers stuck to the table, considering how many people spill their drinks or how often the table gets wiped.
Macy hums in response, but I know she knew that was a fat lie. Job searching is earth-shatteringly boring, and if it had been that, I would have responded with a cheer of relief, not a jumpy mess with a rosy red face that screamed the words - Not Safe For Work.
“So, how did the interview go earlier?” she asks, changing the subject. But we both knew she’d let my previous response go for now, and we would be back to that later, and later was always better than now.
I filled her in on what happened today, starting with this morning. By the time our food arrived, she burst into gut-wrenching laughter, holding her belly for support.
Macy is on the louder side of things, but I loved her even more because of it.
In all the years I’d known her and her constant effort to convince both my brother and me that she was here and here to stay, always being herself and never apologising for being noisy in public or caring if someone looked at us funny if we made her laugh or right now, for instance.
When she laughed so loud, she snorted. She didn’t have an ounce of shame in her body, and I deeply admired her for it. I just watched with delight before reminding her that it wasn’t funny, and I was forever traumatised by what happened.
“Oh my god, don’t tell your brother. The poor thing might short-circuit,” she chimes, winding down from her laughter.
“That’s exactly why I’m telling you!” I giggle, taking a bite out of my peri salted chips.
Talking about things like this wasn’t my brother’s forte.
I mean, we’re talking about the same guy who got a nosebleed whilst asking Macy out. I’m not kidding. It was a full-on water hose of a display. He gets physical cramps in his stomach when he’s uncomfortable or if we’re discussing things like sex and/or intimacy.
He was on the verge of passing out when he overheard Gran give me a graphic version of the birds and bees rundown, and he ran out of the room when I told him about my first boyfriend, making him the living carbon footprint of our Ji-ji; those two are essentially twins.
LJ isn’t much of a talker, but he’s a good brother, and regardless of discomfort, he’s always there when I need him in a physical sense. Which is why I love having a sister-in-law. There were certain things I couldn’t talk to my brother about, not that I’d want to.
Especially now that I no longer had Ji-ji, who had been the only one to sit me down and explain what it meant to be in a relationship and that it was okay if relationships didn’t work out.
He told me the secret to finding someone who truly loves me, and all that entails. It still hurts to talk about him… because then I think about things like the fact that he’ll never get to meet my one true love or walk me down the aisle like he always talked about, which makes me go all teary.
I still have LJ, the last remaining man in my life who hasn’t left me yet, and Macy. The sister I never had and the one person I could actually go to for relationship advice and can openly talk about sex with, as I tried it once with Gran and it traumatised me in a way we will never speak of again.
Overall, it’s very safe to say she came into my life at the right time because I had no idea what to expect when I first lost my virginity, nor did I know what would have happened if I hadn’t had Macy’s input.
It was one of Earth’s biggest mysteries how my two examples of relationships I’d grown up with were both the opposites attract dynamic.
First with Gran and Ji-ji, Gran being the openly outgoing type who asked him out on a first date because he was too shy, and then there was LJ, who couldn’t be a more polar opposite of my abrupt, redhead, Irish breed sister-in-law sitting in front of me.
It still baffles me how they can be so different and yet, to me, they are what a stable, loving relationship looks like.
I tried asking Macy once what the secret of their relationship was, but she joked (at least that’s what I’m telling myself) that LJ was a master of all things in the bedroom and best believe I closed that door and threw away the key, no intention of ever opening it again.
“So, what are you going to do on this job front? Something tells me Granny Mags doesn’t intend to back down,” she smirks, breaking me away from my thoughts.
I sigh deeply, then take a sip of my bottomless Coke through the metal straw I always keep in my purse because I hate how paper straws feel when they get soggy.
“I honestly don’t know. I mean, I was looking way before she wanted me to move out, and I’ve found nothing.
” I mumble, chewing on a piece of grilled chicken with my fork.
“But I don’t know how long I’ll last if Gran’s no longer holding back on having her friends over,” I reveal, finding it hard to swallow the chicken, so I went in for another swig of my drink.
“Well, you know the offer is still there for you to come and stay until the little one comes; we still have the spare bed in there next to the cot, but we’re planning on dumping it in storage until our next move.
” Macy smiles, repeating the same offer she suggested a few months ago, when I found a not-so-child-friendly toy arrived in the post, and I opened it, thinking it was mine, before Gran ripped it out of my hand.
I swear to God, if I touched it, I would have fainted right there on the living room floor. There are just some things you aren’t meant to see, and to be fair, I would have been just as mortified if the roles were reversed. But I think about sex very differently from how others do.
“I know, thank you. It’s sweet of you to offer again, but I know how busy you and LJ are trying to make sure everything is ready for when my niece or nephew comes.” I reply, glancing down at her belly, peeking over the table.
We already had to push it more towards me, so Macy could fit in the booth. We even joked on one occasion that she could be hiding an extra baby in there, but that almost made LJ faint at the thought.
He was just about mentally prepared enough for one baby by reading every pregnancy book under the sun, making sure to attend every doctor’s appointment and researching all the pros and cons of natural childbirth vs epidural.
Not that it mattered what he thought; Macy was going to get what she wanted either way, and he would go along with it.
“You know, sometimes I wish a job would just fall into my lap, solve my need of having to pay rent and get me out of the house so Gran can restart her single lady phase.” I joke, finishing off the last of my food, then I go to refill our drinks.
When I returned, I noticed Macy had stopped eating, staring off into space.
“What’s wrong? Do you feel sick?” I ask, putting her Fanta orange with extra ice down in front of her, hoping she didn’t have heartburn or something, as I take my seat again.
“…what if there was a job where you could do all of those things?” Macy suggests as a beat passes between us, saying the words that were about to make her my saviour.
“Really??” I squeal a little too loudly in disbelief, causing the other people in the restaurant who heard me over the vibrant Portuguese music to look in my direction.
“Where??” I add, toning my volume down a few more notches this time.