Chapter 10
A riana wanted every detail. When Gertrude told her that he'd opened the car door for her, she clapped her hands and said: "Pussy so good billionaires become your chauffeur, oh my god, that's going in your dating app bio for sure. "
When she confessed having feelings for Olivia, Ariana tilted her head sideways, looking at her. They were on Gertrude's bed, later in the afternoon after Barret had dropped her off.
Ariana didn't seem concerned with her friend's sexuality, which honestly bothered Gertrude a little. It had been a big moment for her; both in realizing the depth of her feelings and in telling someone. It was mildly frustrating that Ariana simply accepted it; Gertrude wanted a little more drama. A little shock, at least.
Ariana was more concerned with figuring out if Olivia was into her. "I think so. She was really protective of you. And did you see her pacing around before you left? And the necklace? Oh, oh—!" she snapped her fingers. "Every time she makes a joke, she looks at you to see if you laugh!"
Gertrude's heart chirped. All thought went out of her head as she clung to that statement. "Really?"
"Oh yeah. Now that you mention it, it all adds up."
"Yeah you say that, but what do I do? "
"What do you mean, you tell her."
"I work for her."
"I know, that's kind of hot. Make her write you up. Pink slip. Labor violation. One-on-one coaching."
"Thanks, I'm good on innuendos after fucking knock-off Bruce Wayne."
"Cha-ching!"
"I shouldn't have told you that."
"Wild horses wouldn't have gotten that out of me. Waterboarding wouldn't have."
Both of their phones buzzed. The DNF group chat.
"Get here, now."—Olivia.
Gertrude and Ariana glanced at each other. "You're in trouble," Ariana teased.
God, I hope so.
The thought of Olivia, staring her down, giving her a stern talking-to was something she could think about for hours. Especially if she wore that black outfit she did on the first day of interviews…
"A pragmatic woman, I like that," Olivia had said, looking her over with praise.
Gertrude replayed it in her mind and shivered with delight.
***
Everyone met in the break room. Ariana cackled when she saw Barret's face still on the bulletin board. The rest of the women showed up, looking worried, but soon began pestering Gertrude for details. She did her best to recount what happened, but Olivia interrupted by striding into the room, the door slamming behind her. She was dressed in a white top, with a cream-coloured skirt that was tight around her hips, making Gertrude gulp.
"Do you mind telling me what the fuck you did last night?" Olivia demanded.
Gertrude crumbled. Fighting back tears, she said: "I don't know, I went on the date and was trying to do what we planned but it got weird and—"
Olivia placed her phone in Gertrude's lap. It was open to her bank account. There was a fresh deposit, her banking app declaring it "flagged for review" but Gertrude counted the zeroes. Or tried to, there were so many. From WunderSon Industries.
At that moment, Gertrude's phone buzzed. She glanced at it, realized it was her mother, and answered, holding up one finger to Olivia, begging her to wait. "Yeah, mom what is it?"
"There are men here! They want to fix the house? Did you send them? They're going to cut up my porch!" Gertrude heard men talking in the background, and the sounds of a truck backing up. "They said a friend of yours sent them! The trucks say, Wanderson or something!"
"Yes mom, it's okay I—," she glanced at Olivia, who had taken the phone back and shown the rest of the staff, talking loudly about making them all salaried, paying off the store and being able to "run this bitch forever". Gertrude told her mom she'd call her back and hung up.
"That thrift store dress worked like a charm," Gertrude said.
"Seventeen dollars!" Ariana exclaimed.
"So, are you guys together now?" Rebecca asked.
"No, I have a thing for someone else." She looked at Olivia, who blushed and turned away to talk with Nora.
***
The DNF bookstore was closed for the evening. The shelves fully stocked, the floors swept, the coffee pot for customers turned off. The shutters pulled; the register emptied. In the break room, the bulletin board had been removed of all its material.
Rebecca messaged her and said she was on her way to pick her up.
Gertrude and Olivia were the only ones left in the building. Gertrude hung around, moving stacks of returns back and forth on the sales counter, hoping Olivia would come talk to her. The clock ticked over to 8pm and she was going to give up. Maybe she misread the signs. It happened. Women were mysterious. Gertrude felt a flash of understanding towards men, trying to interpret glances, half-smiles and friendliness in hopes it was more.
She knocked once on Olivia's door and said: "I'm going home now, Liv. ( What am I doing I have never called her that? ) The building is locked up."
"Oh! Okay! Thanks! Goodnight!"
Gertrude stared at the door, a pit of sadness developing in her chest. That was it, then. All those looks, tiny moments, this feeling she had; it was all a misread.
She grabbed her bag and headed for the door, ready to climb into the vehicle with Rebecca and fake-smile and pretend nothing was wrong until she could get home and cry. She leaned against the DNF and waited, forcing herself to hold it together. She didn't need Olivia seeing her fall apart; nothing said "please love me" like tears, right?
Rebecca's headlights lit the road as she turned onto the street.
Gertrude's phone buzzed.
Olivia.
Gertrude's fingers trembled as she read it. She read it three times, then a fourth to be sure, closing her phone screen and reopening it in case it was some cruel glitch.
"Dinner. Tomorrow. 7pm. Wear that thrift store dress."
End