Oh, La-la!

Chapter 8. Kayla

I don’t typically drink, but the panic of not knowing whether or not I showed Ash a lot more than I meant to led to nursing a hangover on Sunday. At least the headache distracted me from the potentially awkward situation I would be walking into come Monday morning. Even so, when I woke up early on Monday, I had the urge to call in sick. The churning in my stomach was no longer the after effects of too many beers, but rather my nervousness.

This is ridiculous, I chide myself and force my body out of bed.

I'm on the phone with a client who loves the sound of his own voice when Ash appears at the entrance to my cubicle. I motion for him to wait while I try to get off the phone with Mr. Chatterbox, and he leans on the wall with a small grin.

“No, that’s fine, I just need to double check those numbers with my developer before I give you a solid answer,” I say in my best business lingo tone.

“I have meetings for the rest of the morning and a few early this afternoon, but I really need to finalize this by the end of the day,” the pompous jerk rattles on.

“Of course,” I’m trying so hard to retain my professional demeanor even though I really want to tell this guy where he can shove it.

“I leave around 4:30, so I need to hear from you before then.”

“That’s not a problem,” I assure him, making a quick note on a Post-it, “I’ll call no later than four o’clock.”

“Four o’clock my time. I think you’re an hour behind me.”

“Yes, four o’clock your time,” I roll my eyes at Ash and he smirks.

“I need enough time to turn in those numbers before I leave for the day. I leave at 4:30.”

“Understood,” he really didn’t need to repeat it. “I’ll call you as soon as I confirm.”

“You know, you have a really nice voice,” he says suddenly, and it throws me a little off balance.

“That’s very sweet of you to-“

“Not like some women,” he interrupts. “You know, I can’t stand talking to women with those high pitched, squeaky, breathy voices.”

I pause for a moment, not entirely sure how to respond. Ash c***s his head to the side in question, but I just shake my head a little. “Uh-huh,” I manage to force out.

“You sound like you could be on the radio, or one of those… you know… call center type deals.” Oh hells no, we are not going down this path! “You ever work in one of them call centers?”

“Um, no. And I’m really sorry, but I’ve got to go, I’ve got another call coming in, but we’ll talk this afternoon,” I say quickly.

“Oh, ok, yeah, I’ve got to get to my meeting. Have a great day!”

“You, too!”

Before I can hang up, he yells, “No later than four o’clock!”

“Ok, bye!” I say and hang up before he can say anything else. “Geez that guy can talk!”

“So?” Ash looks at me expectantly, and I feel a shiver of dread run down my spine as I wonder again how much of me he saw. “How did the rest of the show go?”

Ok, he’s not acting weird, even though I obviously am. I don’t think I flashed him. I smile with relief.

“I guess that means it was a success,” he laughs. “Spill it!”

My smile gets even bigger. “Three pieces sold! Two on Friday night, and another on Saturday.” I still can’t quite believe it. I almost dropped my phone when Cecelia called me yesterday to tell me the good news. “And the good and bad part is my favorite one, the one I showed you?” He nods to show me he remembers. “It was the first one that sold!”

“No kidding,” he says with a smile that could break hearts from three blocks away. “Why is that good and bad?”

I chew my bottom lip while I try to sort through the emotions that selling that particular piece has sent running through my system. “Well, it’s good because it gives me an excuse to play more with that style. Bad because… well, I guess I wasn’t entirely prepared to say goodbye to her. It’s a little scary. Like sending your child off to college. Not that I would know what that would feel like. And I suppose most people know their child will come home after college. Or at least, you know, they’ll see them at Thanksgiving or…” he's grinning at me like I’d said something outrageously funny. “I’m babbling, aren’t I?” I ask with a laugh.

“A little,” he laughs in agreement. “But it’s nice! I’m happy it went so well for you!”

“Ahh! I can’t help it! This is such an amazing feeling. Like I may explode! And I swear, my feet haven’t hit the ground in the last twenty-four hours!”

“Congratulations are definitely in order. And under the circumstances, maybe lunch should be on you today,” he says with a wink.

“Gladly,” I feel giddy. Not only was the opening weekend of my show a success, but Ash and I seem to be on familiar ground. I hope this feeling will last for a while, because right now, I feel like I could take on the world. “We should probably get going, though,” I say with a sigh. “We’re going to be late for the team meeting.”

“Yeah, of course… um…one quick thing, though,” his nervous tone has my stomach plummeting. “I didn’t want to say anything this weekend because, well… you know,” he shifts his weight uncomfortably.

Crap, I did flash him, I think. Butterflies start doing laps in my belly as I try to think of a way to play it. Maybe I can pretend it’s no big deal that he saw… whatever he saw.

“I’m having a get-together on Saturday,” he spits the words out so fast, they start to run together. “I was wondering if you’d like to come?”

Not what I was expecting him to say. And I have to admit, I’m confused as to why he’s nervous about inviting me to a party. Not even a party- a ‘get together.’ “Of course,” I say, trying to tamp down my confusion, “sounds fun. What’s the occasion?”

“Mmm…” his weight shifts again and he avoids looking me in the eye. “It’s my fortieth,” he mumbles.

It takes me a moment to absorb his words, but when I do I feel like bursting again. “Your birthday!” I squeal. “You didn’t say your birthday was coming up!”

“Ok, ok, keep it down,” he hisses, glancing around the office to see if anyone heard me, but most of the team is already making their way to the conference room. “I don’t really like to make a big deal, but Beth decided forty is too important to let slide. It’s nothing fancy. Just a couple of friends for some drinks and food, very casual. And no gifts.”

“Say no more, I’ll leave my fancy digs at home. The girls will be strapped down and covered up.” His eyebrow quirks in amusement, and I can’t help the grin that breaks across my face. If I had flashed him, he would’ve definitely said something by now. I grab my notebook and head towards the conference room. “So, forty, huh? Beth’s not going to do all that ‘over the hill’ and tombstones and whatnot, is she?”

Ash groans. “I hope not. I told her I don’t want anything huge. And honestly, I’m already feeling like life should’ve started by now. I don’t need the reminder that I’m half dead.”

I stop so suddenly he bumps into me. “What do you mean ‘life should have started by now?’ You have a great life!”

He rolls his shoulders and gives me a gentle nudge to keep walking. “I’m turning forty. I’ve been engaged for two years without even a definite date for a wedding. I don’t know, I guess I just feel like everything has stalled.” He heaves out a heavy sigh. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to bring all this up. Can we not talk about this here?”

I narrow my eyes at him as though I was trying to see through him. “Fine,” I say as we reach the conference room. “But we’re definitely going to talk about it. I think you’re being way too hard on yourself.”

Ash holds the door open for me, and I know it’s automatic for him, but it takes effort to ignore the glances around the table and the not-so-subtle elbows in the ribs. Honestly, the gossiping in this office is out of hand!

I slide into an empty chair next to Missy, a bubbly PM who I knew would be easy to distract. “How was your daughter’s dance recital?” I ask her. Missy’s kids are the light of her life. It’s not hard to get her to talk about her daughter. The trick is to get her to stop talking.

“Really good!” she beams at me, and I can’t help but envy her just a little. Her love for her children is strong enough to be a force of nature. Her computer wallpaper always features one or both of them, and she is the biggest advocate of working from home. I figure either she’s going to find another job soon, or Kevin is going to finally cave to her demands. “I know it’s probably just because I’m her mother, but she was fantastic! I’m sure she’s going to become a prima ballerina one day” Missy effuses.

“Do you have pictures?” I glance at Ash out of the corner of my eye as he barely contains a chuckle. Asking Missy if she had pictures of her kids was like asking if a duck liked water. I quirked an eyebrow at him as though to say, ‘They’re not whispering about us anymore, are they?’

“Even better!” Missy exclaims. “I’ve got video! I’ll email it to you!”

“You must dance, Kayla.”

I slide a cool look at Brett, swallowing the bile that always rises in my throat whenever I have to deal with him. “You’d think, but no.” I turn back to Missy, trying to dismiss Brett. “I took ballet when I was little, but I didn’t have any of the talent Paisley has. She must get it from you.” I’m laying it on a little thick, but I desperately need the distraction from slimeball Brett now. I’d even kiss Ash right now to start up the whispers again if it meant not needing to talk to Brett.

Missy just giggles, completely unaware of my discomfort. “Oh, I don’t know about that. I was ok, but Paisley is a star!”

Brett scowls at being closed out of the conversation. I know it’s a little like playing with fire, I need to be careful not to actually piss him off, so I hope he thinks I’m not slighting him on purpose. Which, of course, I am. Before he can say anything else, though, the door slams open and Bill stomps in on a mission. “Ok people,” his deep baritone voice booms out, “not much new, we just need progress reports. Kayla, can you take notes?”

“Awe, Bill,” I say in my sweetest voice, “that’s my favorite thing to do.” The fact is, I’m the only one who always brings a notebook to the meetings, and it had become my unofficial duty. Not that I minded, I’d be taking notes anyway.

Bill spares me a look as I flip to a blank page and smile at him. I know I leave him a little off balance, but I can’t help it. I like him, he’s a good boss, and my natural way to show that I like and respect someone is to keep them on their toes. “Alright, let’s make this quick,” he growls out.