Chapter 13
21 August 2023
Brynn:
Ok so I’m back on my bullshit about tiktok. I should start a booktok account right?
Bridie:
Um, yeah. I’ve been saying this all along. you’ve got an account for watching right? I wouldn’t start a video account with that one just because an old account will confuse the algorithm. Film some content and edit it on CapCut and send it to me to check.
Brynn:
What about username?
Bridie:
How about BookishBrynn? BrynnsBooks?
Brynn:
Ugh, the lack of apostrophe in Brynn’s Books irritates me. BookishBrynn it is.
My first day off after yet another seven-day stint at Dogue’s arrives with the persistent ringing of the phone. I try to ignore it, burrowing down further beneath the covers, but it only pauses long enough for whoever’s on the other end to dial again.
I give in, sticking my hand out from under the doona and finding the phone. I don’t open my eyes. ‘Hello?’
‘Brynn, it’s Doug. I know you’re scheduled off, but one of the newbies is a no-show for desk duty. Do you think you could come and cover until someone can get here at lunchtime?’
I have to bite my tongue to resist the overwhelming urge to groan. I haven’t done many desk shifts, but I’ve hated every single one. In fact, working the desk and dealing with the human clientele at Dogue’s is so awful that I’d take a thousand dog fights like the one with Spike and Perdita over a few hours there. I really don’t know how Hilde puts up with it. But having a day off on Tuesday is boring with Corey busy working, so I decide I’ll go.
‘Yeah, I can,’ I reply. ‘But I live all the way uptown, so it’ll take me at least half an hour, if not more, to get there.’
‘It’s fine, I can cover. See you soon,’ he says and hangs up, leaving me with the phone pushed up against my ear, the other side of my face still buried in the covers, and my desire to just go back to sleep.
But less than an hour later, I’ve showered and dressed in my uniform of tattered sneakers and blue jeans. I slip on my red Dogue’s shirt because I don’t have the white one the girls on the desk wear, and head to the subway. I make it to TriBeCa in record time.
Doug barely says hello while I’m stashing my bag in the locker behind the desk. He just logs out of the computer and says he hasn’t printed the lunch list yet, then disappears into his office.
I start my day by organising that list. I’m in the middle of printing and collecting all the baggies for the dogs who have packed food when I have to stop and check in three. I run a couple of cute Shih tzus into the small room. They’re patient little dogs and sit while I unclip their harnesses in the anteroom.
Checking in the big dogs is more complicated. When a Saint Bernard arrives, I lead him along the fenced run and into the back anteroom. Because of his size, it takes a while to strip off his harness and the longer it takes, the more he barks and jumps.
By the time I’ve checked in five dogs, finished the lunch list, and gotten back to my seat, I’m dying for a coffee. But I’m alone and stuck at the desk waiting for my cover to arrive. I make use of the time on the computer and do a search for TikTok advice. I might as well do something productive with what was supposed to be my day off. I’m deep into an article on hashtags when someone clears their throat in front of me.
‘Oh, sorry, hi,’ I say, still staring at my screen while switching on a bright smile and clicking away from the page.
‘Hi, I’m Lucas Bennett, I’ve lost my swipe card.’
I lose my composure for a moment when I look up because Lucas Bennett is the gorgeous man who is Mulligan the Westie’s dad. Today he’s wearing a soft-looking green sweater and, until now, I never believed that clothes could bring out the colour of people’s eyes. His are the most striking green. He gives me a lopsided, sheepish grin that sends a shiver down my spine. It’s ridiculous how giddy I’ve become just at the sight of him.
I peer over the desk to see Mulligan sitting patiently.
‘Oh, um ... jeez’ I say. ‘The thing is, I don’t normally work the desk and I’m not sure what to do in this situation.’
‘Well, you know Mully, right?’ he says, glancing down at the dog. Mulligan, tired of waiting, has settled himself on the ground with his head on his paws. His eyes droop.
‘Yeah, who doesn’t know Mulligan?’ I reply. ‘He’s my favourite.’
‘Great, then I guess you can let him in, and sort out the card thing when someone else comes along?’ He flashes me a cliché, million-dollar smile and while it doesn’t exactly make my indecision fade away, it does encourage me to try to think of a solution.
‘Just wait one second and I’ll see if I can work out how to check him in manually,’ I say, returning him a smile that’s probably lucky to have five dollars’ worth of impact.
I fiddle around with the software. It takes a couple of minutes and Lucas shifts from foot to foot, showing me that he’s in a hurry, without saying so. His impatience makes me awkward, and my fingers are clumsy against the keyboard.
Finally, I think I’ve got it, check the button for Mulligan and manage a slightly brighter smile. ‘There,’ I say. I come around from behind the desk. ‘Thanks for being patient. Come on, Mully, time to go play with your mates.’
I hold my hand out for the leash but Lucas is giving me a weird look.
‘Is everything okay?’ I ask.
He shakes his head. ‘Oh no, sorry. It’s just, your accent, I forgot how adorable it is ... maaaates .’
‘Oh yeah, that ...’ By now I should be used to people mentioning my accent, but it’s still weird. Is it a compliment? Am I supposed to say thanks? And what’s with me even saying mate?
His green eyes sparkle. ‘Thanks for your help ...?’
‘Brynn,’ I answer as he hands me Mulligan’s leash. The dog eases his way up off the floor with a groan.
‘Brynn,’ he repeats. ‘Thanks, Brynn, see you later on.’
He leans down to give Mulligan a pat on the head and then he’s gone, leaving a whiff of expensive aftershave hanging in the air. ‘Come on then, maaaate ,’ I say to Mully.
Once I’m back in my seat, I notice that Mulligan’s records are still open. I scroll over to close the page when something about Lucas’ details catches my eye. ‘Occupation: Editor.’
My heart starts hammering as I read. Mr Gorgeous million Dollar Smile is an editor for none other than my dream workplace, The Paris Review . My head spins with all the things I could say to him. Maybe I could ask him for an internship outside of the regular rounds? Maybe there’s an assistant’s job going? Perhaps I could mention to him all the experience I’ve had reading the slush pile rejects at the vanity press back home? There are a million things I could say, because this—meeting this guy who works in literary journals—is surely my magic New York moment?
I stare at Mulligan’s record, trying to work out what I should do. Maybe I could get his number and call? Or his email address and send him through my résumé? Nope, totally inappropriate.
I close the window, returning to the desktop screen before I do anything I’d regret, and thankfully my replacement arrives soon after so I can leave temptation behind.
Once I’ve logged off and grabbed my bag, I go to the playroom window, give Robert a wave, and then head off for the day.
At home, I assume my usual position on Jenny with the laptop on the coffee table in front of me and a Younger marathon blaring on the TV, and go to The Paris Review ’s website, bypassing the internships page for once and looking at their staff profiles. I scroll through the fiction and poetry teams until I find Lucas Bennett under non-fiction and memoir.
I am a hundred per cent sure he’s my equivalent of Corey’s Central Park fairy job godmother—the Ancestors laying down my tracks. He has to be. Now all I need to do is work out a way of making sure he knows who I am.
The computer beeps with an incoming video call from Bridie and I hit answer straight away. Her face fills up most of the screen, but I glimpse some of the familiar loungeroom behind her.
‘I’m so glad you called,’ I rush out. ‘I’ve got a dilemma.’
She raises a delicate eyebrow. ‘With your TikTok? That’s why I’m calling, I wanted to talk you through some ideas I had for your content.’
I shake my head. ‘No, no, a different dilemma. I mean, I still want to talk about TikTok, but can we pause for a second? Something else has come up. There’s this guy—’
‘Ooh, you know what, I like this better than the social strategy chat. Go on.’ She grins and I see her settle back onto her couch.
‘It’s not like that. Well, I guess he is extremely attractive in a rich, preppy, white boy kind of way.’ I feel myself getting flustered and when Bridie’s smile widens I can tell she is enjoying herself way too much.
‘Who is he?’ she prompts.
‘One of the dog parents from work.’
The apartment door opens and Corey walks in. She sees I’m on a call and gives me a wave before disappearing into her bedroom.
‘You wanna touch his budoo?’
‘Bridie! No. I mean ... maybe, but that’s not the issue.’
‘Wait, is budoo what I think it is?’ Corey interjects, launching herself onto the couch and waving hello to Bridie. ‘Hi, I’m the roommate.’
‘I’m the cousin and best friend,’ Bridie says, waving back. ‘And if you think budoo means penis, you’d be correct.’
‘Okay, so whose penis are you touching, Brynn?’ Corey says, scootching closer so we’re both easily framed on the screen.
‘One of the dads from daycare, apparently,’ Bridie tells her.
Corey and Bridie both laugh hysterically.
‘What I was trying to say,’ I butt in before the two of them really get going, ‘is that there’s this dog dad who I’ve just found out is an editor. At THE PARIS REVIEW !’
The laughter dies instantly. Even though a third of the people in this conversation are online, I feel the atmosphere shift. Both of them know the significance of The Paris Review.
‘Okay, wow,’ Bridie says in a low voice.
‘That’s an opportunity that’s just fallen into your lap,’ Corey adds.
‘Maybe in more than one way,’ Bridie jokes, the glee back in her voice.
‘Bridie,’ I chastise, ‘that would be inappropriate on so many levels. He’s a client; also, you don’t date people to get a job. That’s just wrong.’
‘I bet if the shoe was on the other foot he wouldn’t hesitate. Men never do,’ she replies, shrugging.
I can hear Aunty Barb’s voice coming from another room: ‘Bridie! Can you help with your brother, please?’ My heart shoots through with such longing for my family that I almost burst into tears.
‘Shit, sorry, I gotta go help Mum,’ she says. ‘Message us later and tell us what you decide to do. Nice to meet ya, Corey, look after our girl! Oh, and Brynn, I’ll send you my TikTok ideas.’
She disconnects and Corey and I sit there for a moment looking at the blank screen.
‘You want to know what I think you should do?’ Corey asks.
‘Always,’ I reply, turning on the couch so I’m facing her.
‘Okay. I’m always a fan of a love story, but I reckon that next time you see him you should definitely just bring up why you’re here and ask if it would be okay if you took him for a coffee sometime to ask his advice on applying for the internship in the next round. I think that’s pretty legit, and that way if any other opportunities come up, you’ll be in his mind. Worst-case scenario is you get some advice for your application.’
‘Or he says no.’
‘I mean, it’s always a possibility,’ she says, shrugging. ‘But this is New York. People are good at that networking stuff. I’m sure he’ll say yes. Plus, who would say no to a cutie like you?’ She gives me a cheeky grin that somehow reminds me of Bridie.
‘Okay, so I should ditch the idea of finding his home address and leaving my résumé there?’ I say, forcing a neutral expression on my face.
Her grin widens. ‘Let’s call that one Plan B.’