Oh, La-la!

Chapter 4. Ash

Working with Kayla has been refreshing. I know I can be a bit of a bastard at times, but I hate trying to slow down my thought process to try to get people to understand what needs to be done. With Kayla I can ramble on at full speed and she only stops me for clarification. When she came by this morning to ask me about not following the standard protocol, I snapped at her and instantly regretted it. She’s not stupid, a fact I’m very grateful for, and I knew if she was asking about something, she had good reason. I was just so stressed with my schedule packed so full with overlapping meetings and deadlines that I had no hope of meeting since there was no room in my day to actually work. I should’ve realized Kayla wouldn’t take it personally. What I wasn’t prepared for was the fierce protectiveness she displayed when she saw my schedule. I’m trying desperately not to get used to that, but I can’t deny it feels good to have her in my corner.

She brought me a plate of stir fry and a soda at lunch from my favorite Chinese take away, and just dropped it on my desk with a smile while I was in my meeting. We’ve only been working together for a couple of weeks, but already she feels like a life-long friend.

I don’t know how she did it, but by three o’clock that afternoon, my schedule had cleared to allow me some breathing room. I’m still at 105% allocation, but it was a lot better than it had looked this morning. I poke my head into her cubicle. “Just wanted to say thanks.”

She doesn’t even glance up from her screen where she’s furiously inputting numbers into the system. “You’re welcome. For what?”

“My schedule,” I respond with a grin.

“Ahhh… don’t mention it. Sorry we couldn’t get you under 100%, but we’ll keep working at it. I told Bill we need to have some sort of system in place so you don’t end up taking on too much and get burnt out.” She finally turns and gives me a withered look. “Guess what my next assignment is?”

“Normally, I would apologize for being the one to trigger that sort of punishment, but I’m willing to bet you’re looking forward to telling the other PM’s what to do,” I say with a laugh.

She rolls her eyes, making me laugh even harder. “I’m not telling them what to do! We’re going to start having weekly meetings, however, to make sure we’re all on the same page and not relying too heavily on any one person. You know how much I enjoy meetings,” she huffs out. “At least it’ll only be until we can figure out some sort of audit system that’s more insightful than Bill’s notebook.”

My eyebrows lift, Bill loves his notebook. “Oof! Good luck with that!”

“Yeah, thanks,” she smiles a devilish looking grin. “In the meantime, you have to practice telling people no. Repeat after me, ‘No, sorry, you need to talk to Kayla. She prioritizes my task list, and is the queen of the office, so you need to take it up with her.’ You try.”

“Of course, I can help you with that! Leave it with me and I’ll look at it this afternoon,” I say in a sing song voice, trying hard not to laugh. “Dang! I guess I do need the practice.”

Her laughter rings through the office. “Get out of here and let me do work. You’ve got your own deadlines, mister.”

A few days later, Kayla shows up at my desk with a cup of tea for me. I don’t know how this became our little routine, but I have to say I like it. I know the office rumor mill has been buzzing about our relationship, and even though I don’t want that sort of reputation, and I definitely don’t want Kayla to have to deal with that crap, I know it’s pointless to try to defend ourselves. I’m doing my best to ignore the gossip, trusting that sooner or later, something much juicier will come along and my friendship with Kayla will be old news.

“Thanks,” I say as I accept the hot tea gratefully, taking a deep breath as the steam from the mug warms my face.

“So… You know the gallery opening that I’m totally not freaking out about?” she says by way of greeting.

“Mmm-hmm,” I agree, taking a tentative sip.

“Well, opening night is Friday,” she says quickly, speaking even faster than she normally does. “And… I’m totally freaking out about it.”

I take a good look at her. Her hair, that normally bounces in soft ripples around her face, hangs limp and with a fair amount of frizz. She’s always a little on the pale side, but now she looks pallid, the rosy glow in her cheeks replaced by a grey undertone. Her lips are pressed in a hard line, and her eyes are just a little too wide. “I can see that,” I say slowly. “Why?”

She huffs out a sigh and runs her hands through her hair. “What if no one comes? What if there’s a ton of people, but no one buys anything? I think that may even be worse. What if the gallery tells me to get my crap out of there and stop taking up space for real artists? What if this is my one shot and I completely blow it because actually I’m a talentless fraud and a hack and useless and-“

“Ok,” I interrupt her to stop her downward spiraling rant, “let’s go take a walk before you use up all the oxygen in the building.”

I set my mug down on my desk and guide her towards the downstairs courtyard. I know she loves it out here. The trees, ferns, and lush greenery make the small area seem like a private oasis. “First of all, take a deep breath before you pass out,” I tell her. “Not that I would mind you passing out in that skirt, but you would still be embarrassed.”

She lets out a half-hearted chuckle, less than what I had been hoping for, but it’s a start. I lead her over to one of the benches sitting under a large oak, and she slumps into the seat, resting her head in her hands. “What was I thinking?” her tone is miserable.

“You were thinking that this is what you want,” I sit next to her, suddenly wishing I had brought my cup of tea with me. I have no idea what to do with my hands, so I just rest them in my lap. “It’s normal to be nervous, I’d be worried if you weren’t!”

“I just thought someone would’ve come to their senses by now. I mean, none of it seemed real! And then, this weekend, they started setting up and I had to deliver everything, and… it’s really happening,” her voice is breathy and shakes a little, and for a moment I’m genuinely worried she’s going to start crying. I’m not sure if I can handle that right now.

I want so badly to hold her close, to run my fingers through her hair and try to take away the panic I hear in her voice. Instead, I lace my fingers together to remind myself she isn’t mine to hold. “They obviously see potential. I wish I could say why exactly,” I add with a smirk, still trying to get her to smile, “but you still refuse to show me any of your work.”

She turns to face me so fast that the tips of her hair brush my face. “Would you come?” she says suddenly. In this moment, she looks so young and vulnerable.

“Of course,” the words tumble out of my mouth without thinking. She’s my friend, and if she wants me at this thing to support her, I will make it happen.

Her shoulders relax and she takes a deep breath, her relief evident on her face. “I’ll have two tickets for you tomorrow. I can’t tell you how much it means to me.”

I don’t want to think about why it means so much to me, either. Why seeing her relax fills me with a warm sensation. I shove it to the back of my mind and concentrate on our friendship. Wait… “Two tickets?”

“Sorry, I just assumed Beth would come,” her smile is almost shy, bringing back thoughts of how vulnerable she is. “I don’t want her to think I’m trying to steal you away or anything,” she lets out a soft, guilty sounding laugh. Or maybe I just think it sounds guilty because, for a moment, I completely forgot about my fiancée. “Besides,” she continues, “the more people I can get there on my side, the better. Right?”

“Yeah, of course,” I feel like an i***t. A perverted i***t. “She’s not really into art, but she loves any chance to get dressed up and drink bubbly,” it sounds lame, even to me. Nerves are starting to churn in my belly, though. Beth certainly has a jealous streak, I just hope that she realizes there’s only friendship between Kayla and I. Of course, it would help if I could remember that, as well.