Tess
“I’m dying. Literally dying.” Teyana leaned on our kitchen island, the tomato and salt sandwich she’d been making abandoned as she’d become engrossed in my story of the previous evening, particularly the parts about my mysterious one-night stand.
“Considering how often you say that, I think you might not have a good grasp on the meaning of the word dying and/or the word literally.” Often when she used the term, she was curled up in the fetal position with pain.
Today she was bouncing with excitement. I was happy to see she was feeling better.
She rolled her so-dark-brown-they-were-almost-black eyes at me. “You know what I mean. I can’t believe you had such an incredible night. Good for you. You needed it.”
I resisted the urge to feel bad that I’d been having my incredible night while she’d been miserable and focused on enjoying the retelling for her sake.
“You’re right. I did need it.” I reached over the island to grab a tomato off her plate.
I’d already been to Kendra’s to drop off the dress and change before coming out to Jersey City, and I was only now getting an appetite.
“Too bad I got so drunk. Best sex of my life, and I don’t even remember it. ”
“How do you know it was the best sex of your life then?”
“Based on what I do remember, there’s no way it wasn’t. He knew exactly what he was doing. Three times.” Just remembering made my panties damp. Pretty Pussy, he’d said. I really should have named him Filthy Mouth instead of Blue Eyes.
Tey sighed dreamily. “I don’t think I could come three times with my vibrator. This man must be a god.”
“Or a devil. Is it possible to be both?”
“I think you’ve just described every man you’ve ever dated more than two weeks.” She smacked my hand as I reached for another tomato slice. “There’s too much salt on that for a healthy person, Tess. Cut up your own if you want some.”
Feigning a pout, I reached for a banana in the fruit basket instead. “He really was exactly my type. Which means it’s probably a good thing that I’m not seeing him again since my type always leads to disaster.”
Tey brought her sandwich up to her mouth and paused before biting into it. “Disaster is not inevitable with the guys you like. It’s just how it’s worked out.”
“Yeah, yeah.” I didn’t want this to lead to another one of her lectures about being patient, there were loads of fish in the sea. It was hard to hear it over and over, and not to be snide, but it wasn’t like she had a steady man of her own at the moment.
I also didn’t think it was a good idea to keep talking about Blue Eyes. Thinking about him did a number on my libido. I was already looking forward to alone time later tonight when I was back in Kendra’s guest room. For now, I needed to think about something else.
Maybe a banana hadn’t been the best choice.
I shook the thoughts about the phallic shape of the fruit in my hand and took a bite. “Oh, I almost forgot to tell you. I met a Sebastian.”
“You what?” She had to set down her sandwich. “Are you freaking serious?”
“Yep.”
“Which one?”
“No idea.” I quickly told her about my encounter with Green Eyes, including how he’d programmed his assistant’s info in my phone.
“Give it here.” Teyana reached her hand out for my cell.
I hesitated for a minute, wondering what she was up to, but curiosity won out, and I unlocked the screen before giving it over. “What are you going to do?”
“This.” She dialed the number and put it on speaker so we could both hear.
“There won’t be anyone there on Sunday,” I said as the phone rang.
“I know, but there will be a voicemail.” Sure enough, the ringing switched over to a prerecorded message that announced we’d reached Julie Sanchez at the Office of Public Relations for Sebastian Industrial Corporation.
“That wasn’t helpful.”
But she wasn’t done. She quickly clicked END on the call then pulled up my internet browser.
Less than a minute later, she had the SIC website’s leadership page loaded.
She scrolled through several positions filled by various Sebastians—Blue Eyes was right; there were a ton of them—until she landed on the name next to Vice President of Image and Outreach.
“Scott Sebastian,” she read. “That has to be the head of PR. Dammit, there’s no image. Was he cute?”
“Scott Sebastian,” I repeated, trying to picture the man who’d wanted to talk shop. “I guess he looked like he could be a Scott. And yes, he was fine with a capital F. He was really flirty. If he hadn’t been hiding, I think I could have gone home with him.”
“Oh my God, you settled!”
I shook my head, laughing. “I wouldn’t have traded Blue Eyes for the hottest Sebastian in the world. Besides. It was risky enough going home with just another attendee at the party. If I’d gone home with a Sebastian and then he’d found out that I’d snuck my way in—”
“He wouldn’t have found out, and if he did, do you think he’d really care?”
Yeah, she was right. I was being paranoid. “Better to be safe than sorry.” But now I was thinking about the other opportunity I’d been denied because of caution. “Why did I have to meet him like that, Tey? He’s looking for a charity for Sebastian Industrial to back. I could have pitched to them.”
“You still could. You have his number. Set up a meeting.”
“And then what? Even if they decided to go with one of the charities I presented, I wouldn’t be able to go anywhere after the initial pitch without Kendra.”
She thought about it for too long, the expression on her face saying she was taking this way too seriously.
“Whatever you’re thinking, Tey—”
She interrupted me. “If you pitched them the Dysautonomia Foundation, you could do it without Kendra. Didn’t Sarah offer you a job there? You could quit working for Kendra and work for them directly instead of being the liaison.”
“Okay, no. No.” There were so many immediate problems, I couldn’t let myself entertain the idea. “First, they’d have to choose the Dysautonomia Foundation from the portfolio of charities I offered. If they chose any other, I’d be screwed.”
“You could make them pick it. Your enthusiasm would sell it alone.”
I ignored her. “Second, I wouldn’t even know how to do a pitch meeting. I’ve only been on the backend.”
“You could wing it. I saw you ace several projects in school that I know you put together on the fly.”
“Third, I don’t want to quit working for Kendra.”
“Don’t you?”
Here, I hesitated. The thing was, I could wing it.
And I did have a passion for promoting the Dysautonomia Relief Foundation.
I’d been trying to get Kendra to hook them up with a major sponsor for over two years now, pretty much as soon as Teyana got her dysautonomia diagnosis.
But it wasn’t just because of Tey that I supported the foundation.
It was a good organization with lots of promise.
I was convinced the only reason it hadn’t been picked up yet was because Kendra wasn’t selling it right.
If I were the one presenting it, I knew I could sell it.
And one day Kendra would let me pitch it. She would. I had to believe that. Otherwise, all the years I’d stuck by her side were just a waste of time. “If I wanted to leave her, I would have taken the job Sarah offered.”
“You’re too loyal,” Tey said with a sigh. “Kendra does not deserve that kind of loyalty.”
“Maybe not.” But I was loyal to Teyana too, and I couldn’t risk the foundation's chances of being chosen by doing this underhandedly.
I expected the discussion to be over. It’s certainly where it should have ended.
But Teyana didn’t give up that easily. “Then you’d stay with Conscience Connect. That works too. Land the Sebastians, and there’s no way Kendra can let you go. Plus, she’d get to see what you can do, and she’d have to give you more responsibility. Win-win all around.”
“I don’t know…” I could already imagine a plethora of things that could go wrong.
I’d seen Kendra work on deals that signed instantly.
Others required weeks and weeks of hardcore negotiation.
I’d learned enough from the sidelines that I was fairly sure I could seal up the former with no problems. I wouldn’t know the first thing about how to handle the latter.
Maybe if I knew I had enough time to work it out...
Tey read my mind. “How long is Kendra out of town?”
“Your guess is as good as mine.”
“She was gone, what? Two months when she broke up with that guy three years ago.”
“But only two weeks when she broke up with that girl she was dating last year.”
I watched her fingers tap on the counter.
She wore fingerless gloves, even though the air conditioning wasn’t on and it was well in the nineties outside.
Her particular syndrome made it hard for her body to regulate temperature, and often her extremities were blue and icy regardless of the weather.
Other symptoms that accompanied her illness prevented her from working a full-time job, yet she wasn’t bad enough to file for disability.
Without help from the Dysautonomia Relief Foundation, she wouldn’t be able to afford to live.
How many other women could be helped by the DRF if they had corporate sponsorship? Could I really try to fight for it?
“This latest disappearance wasn’t even due to a breakup,” I said, wondering if Kendra was distraught enough to keep her away for long. “She said she’s torn between two lovers and needs time for her heart to decide.”
“Yeah, that sounds like her prosy bullshit.” Her tone was spiteful. She’d apologize eventually. That was how it usually went, anyway.
I chewed on my lip, giving her a few minutes to eat her sandwich and brood in silence.