Ainsley #2
Lilah crosses her arms over a generous chest that’s covered by an Atlanta Condors football T-shirt tucked into wide-leg jeans and pristine white high-top sneakers. “Just leave, John. I’m fully capable of giving her a tour.”
I like Lilah’s assertive attitude. I can see us becoming work friends and maybe even real friends.
“Welcome to the team, Ainsley. I know I speak for everyone when I say we’re looking forward to having you on staff.” John shakes my hand and leaves, his meeting now his priority.
Lilah cranes her neck and watches him go, then unfolds her arms and beams at me.
“Halle-freaking-lujah! I’m so happy to have another woman my age on staff.
Everyone else is over thirty, which isn’t bad, but I’ve needed a work buddy without kids and an ex-husband to complain about,” she says, motioning for me to follow her as she starts power-walking past the cubicles in the bullpen.
“This is where we work, blah blah. That’s the supply closet you’ll want to raid to steal pens and notebooks,” she says, pointing to a door on the left.
“That’s the gross bathroom. Don’t use it.
Mike from legal eats gas station burritos every day and takes a massive shit around eleven that ruins it for everyone.
Give yourself extra time to make it to the bathroom that’s a slightly longer walk. ”
“Can you slow down? My legs are shorter than yours.” I’m nearly jogging in my heels to keep up with her pace.
Fuck being short. This sucks. It occurs to me that Payton always matches my pace, never making me stretch to keep up with him.
I’ve never noticed that before, but it’s just another way he’s been quietly considerate of me from the beginning. I love that stupid man.
“Oh, shit, sorry, I’m not used to anyone dressing up in the office.
John’s super lax about the dress code, so feel free to wear sneakers and dress casually whenever you want.
If you have a high-profile subject coming in for an interview or you’re going to cover some big story, keep a blazer and heels in your car.
That’s what I do.” She slows her strides and I’m able to stay by her side.
I swipe my hair behind my ear, taking measured breaths.
“How long have you worked here?”
“Two years. I was in Seattle before this but moved home to be closer to my parents when my mom was diagnosed with MS. I grew up in Athens, so not too far away. My parents are still there.”
“I’m sorry to hear about your mom. MS sucks.” Damn, that’s intense and so sad to see a loved one deteriorate to a disease like multiple sclerosis.
She shrugs, dismissing my comment, and points at a doorway.
“That’s the break room. Mark your food but expect it to disappear anyway.
We have an office lunch thief and I’ve narrowed it down to Tammy from advertising or Cheryl from finance.
Both of them are shady as hell and would absolutely steal your yogurt or eat your takeout.
They even play pickleball together. What the fuck even is that?
A stupid hybrid sport for lunch thieves who can't play real sports is what it is.” She scrunches up her perfectly manicured brows and shakes her head, clearly disliking these women and their activities.
“The nice bathrooms are just around the corner and have multiple stalls, so we don’t have to share with the men.
We can cry in peace when we need to if the patriarchy becomes too oppressive before we remember heads up, tits up, let's fuck shit up, because we rule the world, anyway.”
“Sounds like my kind of bathroom,” I deadpan.
She laughs as she whips around and starts marching us back the way we came.
“That covers it for the office. Let’s get out of here and I’ll show you my favorite place to grab a coffee and breakfast sandwich.
They make their own biscuits that are incredible and melt in your mouth.
You can build your own sandwich, so it’s fun to change up what you put on it. ”
“Yes, I need coffee. My adrenaline’s dumped now that the anxiety has worn off and I’m dragging.” I was too anxious and amped up to stop for a coffee like Payton suggested before coming to the Free Press.
We walk a few blocks from the office to Hestia’s, a cute café that smells divine and is incredibly welcoming.
The exposed brick walls and worn, wide plank wood floors are rustic, but the pink and white striped counter topped with gleaming white marble, the small tables and groups of pink chairs, and the pink accents everywhere are luxe and girly.
“This isn’t really a place I imagined you would like from the very brief introduction I’ve had. I guess I need to slow my assumptions,” I tell Lilah as she looks through the glass of the pastry case, checking out the sandwiches and desserts.
“Don’t let my big attitude and job as a sports reporter fool you.
I’m girly and love to indulge in the finest female things.
If you ever want to go for a mani and pedi after work, I have the best place nearby.
” She wiggles her fingers, showing off her long, almond-shaped nails that are red and white with black designs and even sport the Condors’s logo painted on a few.
She’s fully committed to the team, it seems.
“Noted.” I laugh, looking at my short, natural nails that I don’t bother to do much more than file semi-regularly.
I’ve never made much money as a reporter, so I carefully budget my funds, and getting my nails done wasn’t a splurge I wanted to make.
Obviously, Lilah has different priorities, judging by the complicated design she’s chosen and the really nice sneakers she’s wearing.
I shouldn’t judge or assume I know anything about another person’s finances, so I stop.
We order our coffee and biscuits, find a table in a corner, and sit with our food. I take in a breath, knowing it’s about to be awkward like a first date where you have to learn about someone while eating, when Lilah speaks.
“You have one shitty ex. I’m sorry he did you dirty like that with the Haute List. I hope he gets what’s coming to him. If not, let me know and I’ll casually slip you some information for some enforcers I know who don’t mind fucking up men who treat women badly.”
I huff an unamused laugh. “Oh, don’t worry, he got what he deserved. He was arrested this morning in connection with his other cyber crimes.”
“Thank goodness karma or fate decided to work in this case.”
Or Payton Olsen did. “Yeah, something like that. I’m just relieved it’s behind me and I can move on from this whole situation.” I’m keeping my cards close, not willing to open up completely to this relative stranger beyond what’s common knowledge.
“At some point, I want the full story, but for now, cheers to seeing that motherfucker’s tears!” She holds up her iced latte and I toast her with my sweet cream iced coffee and grin.
“I like that, and I’m way better off now. I’m finally happy.”
She smiles at me. “That’s adorable. Now if I can just find myself a hot athlete, I’d be set. Know any big dudes with bigger dicks that need a fine-ass honey to cheer at all their games? Because I’m available.”
Yeah, I like Lilah Williams.