Chapter 31
Alessa
Alot has changed since Julianna Marcon called me to her office one fateful Friday night.
Two months. It has been two months, and I barely recognize the life I used to live.
I’m still Alessa the college student. I’m still Alessa the office worker. But I’m also Alessa the girlfriend of the Julianna Marcon. Two months ago, I felt like I was in the biggest sugar baby situation to ever slam into rainy-ass Portland. Everything was precarious. At any moment, Julianna would realize how boring, how not-a-virgin I was since she first screwed me and move on to another woman who whetted her appetite. I lived with that knowledge and told myself I wouldn’t get attached.
Then a month passed, and I realized that… not only do I have some feelings for Julianna, but she has feelings for me.
No, she hasn’t told me about them yet. She’s not the kind of woman to say I love you even a year later. I don’t need anyone to tell me that, either. I can tell after spending almost every single day with her since we first hooked up.
Other things have changed, however.
As Julianna and I grow closer, tension ripples through her executive office. While I deepen my knowledge under Vern’s mentorship, a rift erupts between Presley Bradford and the interns I used to work alongside.
When I first joined, there were ten of us—ten skilled students vying for one of the most coveted internships in Portland, possibly the entire Pacific Northwest. I barely snagged the last spot, relying on my knack for interviews and ensuring my grades and references were impeccable. Ms. Bradford herself conducted my final interview, her effortless charm putting me at ease enough to nail every question and even make her laugh.
My promotion to Julianna’s floor left a gap among the interns, though not one they couldn’t fill—I hadn’t exactly been indispensable. But now?
I walk downstairs on a bright, late spring day and find not one, but two empty desks. The other interns scramble more to cover the holes. When Vern doesn’t have a whole lot for me to do, I pop down here to help fill in. Not like I needed any training for a job I used to do anyway. Hey, I’m a boon now, because I know exactly what Ms. Marcon wants! Trust me when I say her personal instructions could be clearer and not as loaded with her jargon…
But, yes. Someone else has been fired since I was promoted.
Cher. I had no idea she was so jealous of me that she started spreading lies to Ms. Bradford, who then passed them on to my girlfriend. When I discovered she was the reason Julianna had me suddenly take a bunch of STD tests “to be on the safe side?” Even I was pretty pissed at her. I knew Cher had a volatile personality and was good at putting on a front to get positions like this, but damn! I couldn’t blame Julianna for firing her once she discovered who was behind my vicious rumors.
I didn’t like it, but I couldn’t blame her.
I don’t know what happened to Cher. I mean, one minute she was here, being a bitchy thorn in my side but otherwise harmless, and the next she was packing up her desk and calling me a skank-ass-ho on her way out the door. None of the other interns know what happened to her, either. She goes to a different school from me, so I don’t see her around my campus.
Days like today make it hard to come downstairs and see the empty desk by the window. Cher always brought life to the office with her vibrant designer outfits, bold earrings that danced as she moved, and rainbow-colored heels that announced her arrival with every confident step. Compared to her, the other interns fade into a dull backdrop—a monotonous sea of black, navy, gray, beige, and white. Their personalities likewise lack the same spark she brought to the room.
Who knew I’d miss her crazy ass? I actually felt sorry for her. Because for a while, I thought she was jealous of me sleeping with Julianna. Turned out she crushed on Ms. Bradley!
“I heard something about you guys needing an extra hand?” I say to Lizzie, one of the remaining interns. She drops her phone when I address her.
“Yeah, we're working on the new tech manual that's going out in a few days—it's all hands on deck,” she says, gesturing to the mess of papers spread across her desk. Highlighters and Post-Its are scattered everywhere, though it's clear Lizzie's been deep into her Candy Crush game for a while. Honestly, I can't blame her. My head is already pounding from staring at the dense, tiny technical print. “Kill me, Lessa.”
I flinch because that’s what Julianna calls me when we’re alone. “Can’t do it. I’m here to help you. Give me the last section there and I’ll get to work at my old desk.”
“You’ll want these too, then.” She slides two highlighters in my direction. Yellow and pink. Classic. “I’ll also give you a copy of the instructions. I’ve memorized them by now.”
“Yeah, well, I wrote them.” I ain’t lying, either. I did not envy these interns when I wrote up these repetitive orders and emailed them to everyone. Now I’m feeling the irony like a crowbar to the back of my head.
I take my section and the highlighters over to Cher’s old desk by the window. The expansive cityscape of Downtown Portland looks so much different than it did two months ago. Gone are the dreary grey clouds and ominous rain of a long winter. Now it’s nothing but beautiful sunshine. Spring came late, but when it hit us, it was overnight!
The thought of spending this summer with her fills me with excitement. I’m such a hopeless romantic, imagining us at outdoor restaurants, basking in warm breezes and the carefree atmosphere that a good IPA brings to both us and everyone around. Of course, I’m not na?ve—I know Julianna probably isn’t going to be all that into it, but still…
I also think about her brother’s wedding next month.
Julianna’s the best woman, and I’m her date. It’s going to be the (gay) wedding of the summer, and I still don’t have a dress.
“Ms. Penrose.”
I barely hear the voice calling my name from the doorway. It takes another, louder Ms. Penrose! before I recognize Presley Bradford’s tenor summoning my attention.
Huh? What does she want from me? If Julianna or Vern need something, they call me directly. This morning Julianna sent me a bouquet of fresh-cut roses for my desk… which I was kind enough to put on the receptionist’s desk to keep things bright on an equally beautiful day.
Ms. Bradford doesn’t look happy. Then again, she rarely looks happy around me.
“Oh!” I stand up from my seat. “Yes?”
“Can I see you in the conference room for a few minutes?” She walks away before I confirm that I’ll be there.
I offer Lizzie a shrug before picking up my purse and following Ms. Bradford into the conference room. She’s already sitting by the window, with nothing but a mug of coffee from the breakroom to keep her company until I get there. Oh, no. What the hell is this about? Have I done something? This woman has been unhappy with my arrangement with Julianna ever since we blew up two months ago.
Is this going to be an ultimatum?
“Have a seat, Ms. Penrose.”
I sit two chairs away from her. “Is everything all right, Ms. Bradford?”
“No.” She leans forward, hands folding on the table. “Everything is not all right.”
I gasp. Has something happened to Julianna? “Please tell me. I want to help.”
“Oh, I know you do.” She furrows her light brown brows at me. “You’re very helpful, Ms. Penrose. I daresay you’re too helpful.”
I brace myself. I can tell she’s going to change the subject before the words are even out of her mouth.
“How much do you actually care about Julianna?”
All right. I knew she was going to change the subject… but to that? Is she kidding?
“I… care for her very much. You must know that, Ms. Bradford.”
“Yes, yes, you care. But about what, exactly?”
Really? I’m used to these sorts of questions by now, but really? “I care about more than her money and being spoiled, I assure you.”
“I don’t doubt it. There are also her physical assets that are far from subpar.”
Did she make a sex joke? I know this woman owns half the strip clubs in Portland, but a sex joke? With me? In private? When she’s never shared that side of her humor with me since I started dating Julianna? She’s kidding!
Flustered, I say the first thing to come to mind. “I care about her whole package, thank you. It’s hard to not care when a woman shows her as much attention as Julianna has.”
“At least you admit it, Ms. Penrose.” The hell does that mean? “Forgive me for prying into your motives. You have to understand that I’ve been put into a precarious situation since you and Julianna started dating so openly.”
“Does this have to do with HR?”
“Not really. There are other issues at hand.”
I swallow, hard.
“I’m going to be blunt with you, Ms. Penrose. Julianna has not been as, shall we say… productive since becoming infatuated with you.” She crosses her legs and folds her hands across her lap. Behind her, the bright Portland skyline illuminates her bespoke Italian suit. Presley Bradford looks as young as she is, but you would never mistake her for an imposter in good threads like these. “She used to be the most dependable woman I could ask to work with. To the point I often begged her to take time off so she wouldn’t wear herself down. She definitely wasn’t of any use to the company if she burnt out. Do you see where I’m going with this?”
I bristle. This woman is indirectly attacking me, and if you think that makes me feel anything akin to comfortable? Give me a break. “I have seen some of the numbers for myself, ma’am. Julianna isn’t performing as well in the boardroom as she used to. I would hardly say she’s underperforming, however.”
“You’re right. Her production levels are exactly where they need to be for us to carry on as usual.” Ms. Bradford levels the full force of her gaze toward me. “That’s the problem. Both she and I need to overperform. Or we lose money.”
I’m not dumb. I know exactly what she’s getting at. Between my classes and my experience in these situations? I also know what to say. “You think I’m bringing her down. You think I’m bringing the whole company down.”
“On purpose? No. What I think, Ms. Penrose, is that you’re a young, green woman – and I don’t say that to intentionally offend or upset you – who is having the time of her life.”
She may not be going out of her way to offend me, but damn if Presley Bradford isn’t nailing it! Very few people must see this side of her.
“You’re right, Ms. Bradford. I am having the time of my life. Being loved by someone like Julianna is very…”
“Loved?”
She isn’t scoffing. She’s not even laughing. That is a genuine surprise in her voice like she can’t fathom a world in which Julianna Marcon, her best friend and supposedly greatest confidant, loves someone like me. Or anyone. I know what Julianna was like dating other women in her past. Trust me, I’ve heard all the stories. Including from her.
“That’s what I said, yes.”
“She’s told you that she loves you?”
Again, what is with this tone? “Well, no, but… I can tell?”
“Oh, Alessa.” She sighs. Ms. Bradford seldom calls me by my first name. She’s professional to a fault like that when we’re at work. “I honestly do not envy you.”
I could try explaining it to her—how I sense Julianna’s feelings for me growing, even if I know she’s not the type to fall for someone easily, if at all. I mean, I’ve met her family a few times now. Her mother is icy, almost witchlike, and her father? He’s off in his world. If his kids happen to share his interests, great—they get a relationship. (Spoiler: Julianna hates golf. Guess what Mr. Marcon is obsessed with?) Her brother, on the other hand, is more of a rival than a sibling, living on a completely different wavelength she can’t connect with.
For Julianna, the idea of falling in love doesn’t come naturally. If she ever gets around to confessing her feelings—or even admitting to them—it’s not happening overnight. A few years, probably. Maybe more.
I won’t explain it to Ms. Bradford. How could she understand? I’m reaching the point where I am the person who understands Julianna the most. A title that used to belong to this woman sitting across from me.
Perhaps she still understands her on a professional level. But I’m turning into Julianna’s most trusted confidant, whether Ms. Bradford likes it or not.
That’s gotta be weird.
“I see where you’re coming from.” That’s what I say instead of anything else. “You’re worried that Julianna is losing herself in me instead of focusing on your business like she’s supposed to. I get it. I do. But I can’t say that I feel bad about all the attention she’s been paying to me. It makes her happy if you haven’t noticed.”
“I assure you that I’ve noticed her change in mood since you appeared, Ms. Penrose.”
Is she mocking me? I honestly can’t tell anymore. “But I’m willing to work with you since I understand you so much, Ms. Bradford. If I notice Julianna slacking off on her work to be with me, I’ll make sure it’s corrected. I am, after all, one of her assistants and tasked with making sure she, uh, stays on task.” That sounded a lot better in my head.
“I appreciate it.” Yeah, I don’t think she believes me when I say that. Yet what can she do? It’s not in Ms. Bradford’s nature to chew me out or make me feel like an idiot. She’s a keep the peace kind of woman. She probably sat on her hands for a long time before deciding to talk to me about her concerns.
We shake on it. Strange, isn’t it? I’m conspiring with my girlfriend’s business partner to take care of this. It’s like going behind her back to make sure she’s babysat properly. Because clearly, Vern isn’t doing a good enough job!
Hell. Vern’s too busy trying to work for three people right now. I think I added to his workload instead of making it easier for him to get it done. Do you know how much oversight he has to perform over me?
When I return to the office, it’s to Lizzie rolling her eyes, like Cher used to do. Yeah, I know, I’m a terrible help around here. If I got shit done, I’d… well, I’d be worth the paycheck I’m now getting. Trust me when I say I see this from everyone’s perspectives. I only have this job because Ms. Marcon is fucking me. And likes it.
Usually, I don’t feel bad about it. Right now, though? I think Julianna and I must have a chat tonight when we get back to her place.
Speaking of…
That’s her lighting up my phone. As soon as I’m finished with this task, I am to report to her for a teleconference. Vern is busy doing other things, and she needs me to take notes.
Simply another day at Bradford & Marcon.