CHAPTER 18 A Toxic Microwavable Container
November 24, 2010
“I don’t like them,” Joaquín Serrano, my boss’s boss, said in an exasperated tone, tossing the Polaroids on the meeting room table. He was a kind, respectful man, but he had a clear and unyielding vision for the magazine, and sometimes, his photoshoot production team couldn’t keep up with the relentless pace of his creative mind. And then, once everyone finally agreed, the photographer’s vision had to be considered, which would inevitably delay the process again.
Becca was my direct boss, but I was part of Joaquín’s team, for the most part. Let’s say I lingered on the periphery of his team. But I was rotated between different assignments, always acting as a general assistant in the photoshoot production department. They’d never given me another chance to grab a camera. I got lucky the day I shot that swimsuit spread with Lily, and it landed me this job, so I was grateful. I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that I loved the thrill of being in charge that day, of getting behind the lens and experimenting with the light and Lily’s poses while waiting for the team’s approval of my work. Of my photographs.
“Tell me again exactly what you’re looking for,” Becca said, minding her tone and pushing a strand of her long platinum hair behind her ear.
Joaquín groaned with growing frustration. “A ver, Billie.” He directed his attention to me. “Te lo voy a decir en castellano porque claramente no me estoy dando a entender en inglés.” He pushed his black heavy-framed glasses up and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Veamos si puedes ayudarme a plasmar mis ideas. A traducirlas con mayor exactitud.”
English was Joaquín’s second language, so I guess he was struggling to get his message across and wanted to elaborate in Spanish to anyone who could translate for him. He didn’t have any trouble communicating with anyone at the office, but I knew how hard it would be for me to try to explain something in French when it wasn’t my mother tongue. It’s never going to be the same.
“Vale,” I said. Sure.
“La portada de febrero trata de contar una historia de amor, pero no una historia cualquiera. Quiero contraste. Quiero que el lector desborde de anhelo. Y sí, quiero que las fotos se tomen en la playa nevada, aunque Becca me haga caras.”
“You talking about me?” Becca puckered her lips and crossed her arms at her chest. “I know playa means beach, and I still think the photoshoot could turn into a frostbite nightmare.”
Joaquín glared at Becca, but it made her giggle. It was unusual to see him so worked up about something to the point where it began driving him crazy mid-meeting. Everyone respected him, but Becca had been working with him for years, so they had a different kind of relationship. The kind where they could speak their mind freely to each other without any judgments, repercussions, or consequences. They were equals, even if Joaquín was the boss.
“Como te decía, Billie,”Joaquín continued, running a hand through his brown locks that were peppered with greys here and there. “Está pronosticada una tormenta de nieve y quiero capturar esa esencia invernal, pero en la playa. Y estos surfistas hippies de cabelleras decoloradas me van a hacer que Sookie sufra un desmayo.”Joaquín pointed at one of the Polaroids on the table with an angry finger.“Pedí un surfista, sí, pero elegante, no sé si me explico. Esto no deja de ser Haute Magazine. Ahora explícales.”
“Un surfista, pero elegante,” I repeated, grabbing the Polaroids and flipping through them. Joaquín wanted a photoshoot on a snowy beach and the golden vibes of a surf boy without neglecting elegance. Haute Magazine elegance. He complained about how the proposed male models looked like hippies, and about how Sookie, the model who would pose alongside this “elegant surf boy,” would faint with horror at the sight of them.
When I relayed Joaquín’s brief to the team, chaos erupted in the meeting room. Everyone began talking among themselves, suggesting names, and saying how this and that would be a great fit for the project. But all I could think of amid the energetic chatter was how I knew of a certain “boy” with “elegant surf vibes,” and I needed to suggest him as an option for this cover.
“What about Liam Kelly?” I used the loudest voice I could muster without yelling, trying to make myself heard by the team. I quickly learned that in this job, you either speak out or you become invisible and get dusted off into a dark, boring corner. “I know he’s an actor, but he’s modeled before too.”
“Hmm,” Joaquín said, narrowing his eyes as he stared at an invisible spot on the white pristine wall surrounding us. “Becca.” He swiveled his fingers, and somehow, Becca knew what he was asking of her. Within seconds, she handed over her phone to Joaquín, who scrolled through the Google image search results showcasing a myriad of Liam’s pictures.
The room became silent as we waited for Joaquín’s verdict on my spontaneous recommendation.
“Get in touch with his agent,” Joaquín said to Becca, knocking on the table before getting up from his seat. “See if he’s available.”
“I can ask him right now if you want,” I said to Joaquin as he walked away. “He’s my friend.”
“Is he in the city?” Joaquín turned around in the graceful way that characterized him.
“He is.”
“Ask him if he can come by for Polaroids. The sooner, the better. With Thanksgiving weekend coming up, I don’t want to waste any more time on this.” His phone rang, and he took the call before the first ring fizzled out.
“Elegant surf boy?” Becca said with a grimace. “Thank God you thought of Liam Kelly. Joaquín was driving me nuts.”
I laughed.
“Why don’t we go to my office so we can call him?” she suggested. I nodded. “Come on.”
I followed Becca to her grownup office, took a seat in one of the modern leather chairs in front of her, and pulled out my phone.
Liam’s phone kept ringing, but he wasn’t picking up.
“He’s probably busy, but I’m sure he’ll call me back once he …”
My phone rang, and I showed the caller ID displaying Liam’s name to Becca with a smile.
“Hey,” I said quickly. “Where are you?”
“Meeting, darling,” he said in his cute accent. “Well, I’m stepping out from one. Miss me already? Not having William around is making you needy. Want to hang out?”
My cheeks fired up with embarrassment. This was typical Liam behavior, but I hoped Becca couldn’t listen in, so I clicked the side button to lower the volume.
“You wish,” I said with a quick laugh. “This is important, so please try to focus.” Becca tilted her head and watched me as I talked to Liam, curiosity filling her eyes. “We need an elegant surf boy for the February cover, and naturally, I thought of you.”
“My, my, my.” Liam chuckled. “Seems like you’ve called the right man for the job.”
“They said boy, not man, so,” I teased. “You can see why I thought of you.”
“Funny. And what do I get if I agree to this?” His voice dropped to an almost sensual tone.
“Paid?”
He laughed, and Becca smiled. I was sure she could still listen to Liam over the speaker, or maybe she was intrigued by the back and forth between us.
“Well, duh. But, like, will you owe me a favor?”
“I mean, sure?” I mouthed sorry to Becca because this was taking longer than expected. “Do you need one?”
“I might.”
“Okay, that’s it. I’ve got Elegant Surf Boy #2 waiting on the other line, so if you’re not going to…”
“Stop!” He laughed. “Can’t allow that. What do you need?”
“I need you to come over right now for Polaroids,” I said in the bossiest tone I could muster. Becca did a thumbs-up. “Or Elegant Surf Boy #2 gets the job.”
Becca chuckled.
“Goodness, Red,” he scoffed. “I can be there in twenty-five minutes.”
“Are you looking … elegant?” I asked playfully.
“Always, darling.”
I rolled my eyes. “You better.”
“You’ll still owe me,” he said, his tone businesslike. “And I’m hungry.”
“Oh my God!” He irritated me in an entertaining and endearing way. It was hard to explain. “Okay, I’ll feed you if you do well on the Polaroids.”
He laughed. “Deal.”
“Fine. I’ll see you in a bit.”
Liam won everyone over the moment he stepped into the office. They shot a few Polaroids and showed them to Joaquín, who was quick to admit Liam was the perfect fit for the project.
“Buen trabajo, Billie,” Joaquín said, pressing his palms on his desk to push himself up from his seat. Good job. “Is Liam still here?”
“Meeting room number two,” I replied. “Making everyone swoon.”
Joaquín shook his head with a tight smile as I followed him out of his office. “I don’t blame them,” Joaquín said.
We stepped into the meeting room, and Liam was sitting at the edge of the table, one foot crossed over the other. Becca and two co-workers surrounded Liam while he dazzled them with his easy smile.
“Our elegant surf boy!” Joaquín clapped his hands once, and everyone turned to see him. I introduced them, and they shook hands. “Liam, thank you for coming on such short notice. But with Thanksgiving upon us, I couldn’t allow further delays on this matter.”
“Of course,” Liam said. “Thank you for considering me.”
“Well, I had a chance to take a look at your Polaroids, and you’re exactly what we’re looking for. Becca will contact your agent to handle the details and schedules and such.”
“Wonderful.” Liam smiled, and Joaquín excused himself.
It was time to leave. Liam walked me to my desk so I could grab my stuff, and I spotted a tabloid magazine sitting among my things with my face and William’s inside a heart shape on the cover. A big, bold text read: NEW COUPLE ALERT! “What the hell?”
I looked around the office to see if anyone would claim to have left it on my desk, but everyone seemed busy and uninterested in me or my tabloid dilemma. Great. Soon, everyone at the office would know too. And for some reason, the idea of being just another college student working at the office felt easier than being William Sj?berg’s girlfriend.
Flipping through the pages, I finally got to the mini article stating that a “source close to the couple” confirmed our romance. It also mentioned that I was a student at Parsons and an employee at Haute.
“Where did they even get this photo of me?” I complained, my voice bending into a higher-pitched tone. It was scary to imagine these people, whom I didn’t even know, looking up information about me. And finding it.
“Probably Google,” Liam quipped, reminding me he was standing there beside me. He plucked the tabloid off my hands, tore it in half, and tossed it in the trash bin. “You shouldn’t be reading that garbage. Ever. Trust me.”
“Fine. Let’s go.” I blew an annoyed breath through my mouth and pulled Liam’s arm so we could start heading out. I did promise him dinner, after all. “How did they even find out? You better not be the ‘source close to the couple.’”
He laughed and placed a hand on his chest with indignation. “I would never!”
I glared at him from the corner of my eye with a playfully suspicious smile. He loved gossip, but I knew him well enough by now to know he wouldn’t go to a tabloid to talk about my relationship with William. That would be creepy.
“I told them my hottest Swedish friend, whose name starts with W, was dating a redhead I knew called Billie Murphy, but that’s it!”
I punched his shoulder, and he laughed. “Your dinner invitation hangs by a thread.”
“You have to drop this, Red,” Liam said, his tone serious this time, leaving all jokes aside. “This is just the beginning. And I’m not trying to be pessimistic. But you can’t date William freaking Sj?berg and expect the tabloids to sleep on the opportunity to report on every angle of your relationship.”
“I know,” I said, somewhat defeated. The elevators opened on the ground floor, and as we walked toward the exit, Aaron texted me to confirm he had the car waiting for us. “But we’d been doing a great job keeping it a secret. And now that it’s out … I hope it doesn’t affect our relationship.”
“It won’t, silly,” Liam said matter-of-factly, giving me the reassurance I needed to relax and forget about this for tonight. “William won’t allow it. I know him. You know him.”
“You’re right.”
When we stepped out, the air was frigid and blowing violently against our faces. The SUV was parked by the curb and seemed so far away as we still needed to walk the building’s front square to get to it. Joaquín said there was a snowstorm forecasted in the next few days. It was still a bit soon to have snow this time of year, but it wasn’t impossible either.
Aaron saw us coming and jumped out of the car. I grabbed Liam’s arm and buried my face against it, trying to shield myself from the icy wind blowing against us.
“Fucking hell.” He ran an arm around my shoulder, and we both increased our pace, wordlessly trying to reach the SUV as fast as possible to flee the cold.
Out of nowhere, two men who sat on nearby benches stood as we walked by, and the flashing lights of their cameras stunned us as they snapped one photo after the other.
Instinctively, I released Liam from my grasp and rushed to the SUV. The eager paparazzi followed closely and kept photographing us even as Aaron angrily sped away.
“Relax, already!” Tobias shouted at Liam as I pulled out two steaming hot instant noodle soups from the microwave. I placed one of the foam containers in front of Liam and went to grab us some spoons, lime, and chili powder. “William is not going to punch out your front teeth!”
“That’s easy for you to say when I’m the one hugging her as we walk out of her office building,” Liam retorted, transferring the noodles into a bowl, staring suspiciously at them with narrowed eyes.
“Billie … help me out here,” Tobias ordered.
“William is not going to punch out your front teeth,” I repeated Tobias’s words calmly. Liam was being ridiculous. I placed the spoon in front of him and plopped on one of the stools to eat my chicken-flavored ramen. “And if he does”—I transferred my noodles to a bowl, squeezed half a lime into it, and added some chili powder—“it’ll be after Haute Magazine’s photoshoot since he still has a few more weeks left before he arrives. So there’s nothing to worry about. Your teeth will be intact on the cover.”
When we explained what happened with the paparazzi to Tobias, he said it seemed like we fled the scene quickly, and maybe the photos weren’t any good. He mentioned that the tabloids don’t buy or use every single image they get their hands on. I hoped he was right. But either way, I planned to tell William about the magazine and the paparazzi whenever I had a chance to talk to him.
“Hilarious.” Liam mindlessly stirred the soup with his spoon, looking disappointed about my humble choice for dinner. “That is if I don’t die from food poisoning before that happens.”
Tobias chuckled.
“Hey!” I complained, taking a spoonful into my mouth. With Mimi gone and me having to watch my finances, I opted for cheap and easy meals to fix for myself. I loved my job at the magazine. It was challenging, fast-paced, and never dull. But when I got home, I was exhausted. And by exhausted, I mean I would usually prefer to shower and go to bed than attempt to make something other than a mediocre sandwich or a canned tuna salad. But I needed to eat, so instant ramen had been the convenient alternative most nights.
God, I missed Mimi. Not only did I miss her warm presence at home, but I missed her cooking too. I can’t deny how much of a relief it was to arrive at my place after a long day of school and work knowing all I needed to do was open the fridge, choose from a variety of delectable, cooked meals, and heat it up on the stove.
But those days were long gone—a price to pay for my freedom.
Before William left for Canada, he cooked for me or ordered food often. But I couldn’t afford takeout every day. Not on my salary. And knowing I had to allocate $800 to my monthly rent made things more stressful.
“You’re this close to not getting invited over for dinner again,” I warned.
Liam tried the ramen and went, “Mmmmmmm,” then grimaced as he chewed.
“You’re such a baby.” I passed him the other half of the lime and the chili powder. “Add some of that and try it.”
He did as he was told.
“This isn’t half bad.” He lifted his brows and nodded in approval. “How’d you get the idea?”
“Girls at school in Mexico would eat it that way.” A shiver crept up my spine at the mention of Mexico, but I did my best to hide my reaction. “I only tried it a few weeks ago when I remembered, and now I’m obsessed.”
Tobias set his phone on the counter between us while placing a call on speakerphone. The screen said: William.
“Wait,” I said. “Isn’t he busy?”
“Nah, I just texted him,” Tobias replied. “He’s—”
“Hey.” William’s voice cut him off when he took the call. “Am I on speaker?”
“You are,” Tobias quickly replied. “Go ahead.”
“Hey, baby!” I greeted him excitedly. We usually found time to talk before I went to bed. But with his erratic schedule, we would text here and there during the day, so I was happy whenever I could listen to his voice.
“Guille.” His voice was low and hoarse. William saying my name like that did something to me, even if he wasn’t aware of it. Well, he for sure was at this point. “Do you want to tell me why you’re eating processed food from a toxic microwaveable container when you have my credit card in your wallet?”
Oh.
Wrinkling my nose at Tobias, I flipped him off and whispered, “Traitor!”
“You’re welcome.” Tobias laughed and Liam snickered as he slurped his ramen.
“And Liam,” William added before I could think of something that would serve as a suitable excuse for my recent questionable eating habits. Liam’s face fell as he stared wide-eyed at Tobias’s phone. “Get photographed touching my girl again in public and you will be visiting the dentist’s office.”
“William!” My jaw dropped as I stared at Tobias, whose gossip tendencies were endless. Liam was practically a member of the Sj?berg family at this point. So there was no need to scare him away with his empty threats because I knew William wouldn’t lay a finger on him. He knew we were just friends.
“Why would you tell him about the paparazzi?” I whispered to Tobias. “I was going to!”
“Because I was trying to reassure Liam that he wouldn’t get punched in the face,” he whispered back.
“Gee, thanks.” Liam rolled his eyes and kept to his noodles.
“You know I can hear you, right?” William’s voice sounded bored. “And no, I don’t need Liam’s hands on my girl, especially not in public with the paps running around looking for content to sell.”
“Jealous, mate?” Liam said with a chuckle, taking a spoonful of noodles into his mouth.
“The media will find any excuse to run fake stories about us if we’re not careful,” William’s voice boomed through the speakerphone. “So let’s not give them material so they can use it to their advantage. I know tabloids are tabloids and we can’t always control the bullshit stories they like to print, but I’ll do what I can to keep things as private as possible. At least until I return from Vancouver.”
“Too late. You guys are on the cover of Icon Weekly,” Tobias tossed in, which earned him a glower from me. I had wanted to talk to William about it. Privately. But Tobias had no limits when it came to revealing information to his family members. “They confirmed your relationship.”
“Shit.” William sighed. “That explains the six missed calls from Naomi. What else did the magazine say?”
“That we’ve been dating for two months,” I interjected. “That I work at Haute Magazine and study at Parsons. And that we’re neighbors.”
“That explains the paps outside Haute today.” William’s voice sounded frustrated. “How many were there? They didn’t hurt you, did they? Did they try to follow you? I’ll give Aaron a call anyway so we can—”
“William,” I cut him off and took Tobias’s phone to my ear, swapping back from speakerphone mode. Liam and Tobias simultaneously voiced a disappointed Awww. Of course, they wanted to keep listening to our conversation. “There’s nothing to worry about. There were two photographers, no one followed us, and Aaron knows how to keep me safe.” I didn’t want William to worry when he needed to focus on work. He was upset enough as it was since his schedule wouldn’t allow him to fly back for Thanksgiving. “It’s just a silly tabloid piece.”
Silence.
“You’re right.” He let out a sharp breath. I could tell this topic was weighing on him, and he worried about it affecting me, but everything was fine. Not only did I feel safe, but I was. The fact that he was almost three thousand miles away must’ve made him feel uneasy, like he didn’t have control over the situation. But there was nothing to control because everything was fine. And it seemed like the knowledge of that sank in suddenly because he managed to change the subject. “So, what did your father say about joining my family for Thanksgiving?”
Tobias stood closer to me, trying to listen, and I pushed him away.
The Sj?bergs had extended an invitation to my father for their Thanksgiving dinner celebration, a tradition they’d adopted after years of living in the U.S., hoping to soothe his apprehension regarding our relationship. And given that William wasn’t attending, I thought he would have agreed. But my father’s wounded pride ran deep, and he declined. He was probably still sour about William cleverly buying the apartment and how things turned out for him—and between us—because of it.
That meant I would spend Thanksgiving in a boring fancy restaurant with him instead when I could’ve spent it with the Sj?bergs.
It felt wrong to admit this, but I wouldn’t have minded skipping Thanksgiving this year with my dad. And something told me he wasn’t thrilled about us sitting for an awkward, small-talk-filled dinner. Seeing each other felt forced, and honestly, there was nothing I was feeling “thankful for” when it came to the current status of our strained father-daughter relationship. It was merely a procedure designed to avoid driving what was left of our frail bond into an even more confusing state.
“He said no.” No need to sugarcoat things for William. “He made dinner reservations at Peak325, so those are my amazing plans for tomorrow.”
“What?” Tobias mouthed, and I shrugged. They all probably thought it was a sure thing that I’d be joining them.
“Fancy.” William didn’t sound surprised in the slightest. “You can always join them once dinner with your dad is over.”
“Yeah, I was planning on doing that anyway.”
“I miss you,” he said after a brief moment of silence, his voice filled with longing, and I said it back. “Can you put Tobias on the phone, please? There’s something I need to tell him. I’ll call you tomorrow as soon as I get the chance, okay? I love you.”
“Of course. I love you too.” I handed the phone to Tobias. “He wants to talk to you.”
Tobias said, “Uh-huh” a few times and ended the call.
“Let’s go,” he said, getting up reactively from his stool. “Drop those spoons. Both of you.”
“What? No!” I hissed, but Tobias reached out and seized the bowl from my grasp.
“You finished the whole thing?” Tobias said to Liam, who held the bowl in front of his face, slurping up the last drops of his soup.
With a chuckle, Liam set the empty bowl on the counter. “The lime-chili combo was actually pretty good.”
“Get up, Billie.” Tobias grabbed my arm and pulled me out of my seat. “We’re going to get some real food. William’s orders.”
“That was a waste of a perfectly good soup!” I complained as Tobias dragged me out of the kitchen. I was exhausted. All I wanted was to eat my soup, shower, and go to bed.
“I beg to differ.” Tobias grabbed my bag from the foyer table and gave it to me. “We’re going to Bernie’s Burgers.”
“Oh.” Well, that didn’t sound like a bad idea at all.
“That’s right, oh.” Tobias opened the door with a chuckle. “Wipe the drool off your mouth, lock up, and let’s go. Are you coming, Liam?”
“Nah, I’m full.” He stepped out, placing a hand on his belly. “I think I’m gonna call it a night. But thanks, though.”
After locking up, I pulled out my phone and said, “Let me call Nina and see if she wants to come.” But all I did was text Aaron to let him know I’d see him downstairs.
“Wait-you-what-Nina?” Liam blurted out, and I threw my head back in laughter. “You evil, evil woman.” Liam shook his head, realizing I was teasing him.
“Nina’s mom and her brother are in town for Thanksgiving,” I explained as we stepped inside the elevator, “so unfortunately, she’s unavailable all through the weekend.”
“Yeah, she told me.” Liam leaned back against the elevator wall, stuffing his hands inside his pockets.
“My goodness.” Tobias rolled his eyes. “Why can’t you admit you like Nina and ask her out on a fucking date already?”
“We’re friends,” Liam said. “And I just ended things with Belén. I don’t want her to think she’s a rebound. I know what I’m doing, okay? So fuck off.” He chuckled, but he sounded irritated, too.
“You act like a malfunctioning robot every time someone says her name in front of you,” Tobias responded, “but sure, you know what you’re doing. Stop being a coward.”
Men. If Liam knew how much Nina liked him. But I couldn’t meddle, especially when Nina specifically asked me not to. They had to figure things out on their own.
We stepped out of the elevator, and Liam said, “At least I’m not stuck having to share the girl of my dreams with one of my best friends because I’m too chicken-shit to claim her as my own.”
Whoa!
“Excuse me?” I shrieked. The last time I talked to Cecile, she said she was done with Jordan and Tobias because she couldn’t stand the drama. She liked them both too much to decide.
Unless … Oh.
“Liam.” Tobias’s neck flushed, the color spreading quickly up to his neck. “Walk away, or I swear to God …”
“Or what are you going to do?” Liam taunted. “Pray tell.”
“Boys.” My voice was more of a warning. Thankfully, Aaron walked out of the emergency exit and joined us since he usually came down to the lobby using the stairs. Everyone remained silent, but his trained intuition must’ve told him something was off when he felt the palpable tension between Liam and Tobias, whose faces were inches apart.
“Everything okay here?” Aaron asked, his voice thundering in the lobby.
“Leave,” Tobias said to Liam again, ignoring Aaron’s question, which basically served as an answer. Everything wasn’t okay.
“Goodnight, Red.” Liam took a step back, but his eyes remained on Tobias. I’d never seen them fight like this before. Sure, they would constantly bicker and tease each other, but it’d never escalated into something as serious as this. “Thanks for dinner.” He turned on his heel and walked away.
“Everything okay, Miss Murphy?” Aaron asked again, assessing Tobias as if trying to determine whether he was a threat or not.
“Yes.” The word came out breathy and faint as I finally released the air caught in my chest. “Let’s go.”
“I’ll get the car.” Aaron pursed his lips and considered us for a quick beat before walking away.
“I imagine you don’t want to talk about it?” I said to Tobias, who replied with a swift and harsh “No.”
But once our bellies were full of burgers and fries and the tension from their agitated confrontation had subsided, Tobias told me everything. We talked about how both he and Jordan were still actively pursuing Cecile, still sleeping with her, as we ignored the flashing lights from the paparazzi filtering through the restaurant’s window, and Aaron shooed them away.