Chapter 13: GABRIELLA
1270 Words
In the morning, I was in more of a rush than usual. I had the odd feeling that something was going to happen; what, I couldn't say.
I would be happy just to get a glimpse of him, it seemed so long, and no matter how I'd scolded myself throughout the night, it was no use. I was already halfway in love with him, and I'd only seen him once for a few brief hours.
Instinctively I knew that these feelings were nothing like I'd felt before; no teenage crush this, is what I jokingly told myself as I pulled the brush through my wayward hair.
I was going to fuss a little bit with my appearance, but aunt Marion started to have one of her fits outside the bathroom door, so I just passed the gloss across my lips and left it at that.
“What took you so long in there? Ugh, your hair, what a monstrosity; you want to be an actress the first thing you need to do is get rid of that ugly mop on top of your head...." She had that ugly sneer on her face, but it seemed even worse than before, and I had that sense of genuine fear again.
I wasn't sure why she hated my hair so much, the others were always raving about it, and though I've complained about it a time or two, I didn't think it was as horrible as she made it out to be. Would she force me to cut it if I didn't want to?
I was saved from answering her when she turned on her heels and snatched up her purse on the way heading for the door. “Come along, I have lots to do today, and I need to get a move on. Callan's back, and we have some things to take care of before regular office hours begin."
She was watching me very closely for my reaction, and I kept my face placid as if she hadn't just torn my heart to shreds. Did she have to say his name so intimately?
“Okay, Aunt Marion, sorry to keep you waiting."
“Oh, that's okay; I guess you need the extra time getting ready." Again she looked me over as though I was the biggest loser on the planet, and I felt two feet tall.
The second-hand black knee-length silk skirt wasn't worn looking or anything, and I'd paired it with another nice cream-colored top. This one was a simple button-down, but it did nice things for my figure, I thought. Of course, walking next to aunt Marion in her Chanel suit, I looked like what she was now fond of calling me at every turn, a country hick.
I felt sick all the way to the office, wondering how I was going to play my part when we did run into him. Or maybe he wasn't coming down to her office, but she was going up to his.
Whatever the case, maybe I never found out one way or another because five minutes after we walked in and she went to her office, I heard the phone being slammed down and a chair scraping against the floor.
I didn't dare go see what was going on, so I kept my head down and pretended to be looking over the list of things she'd written down at the end of the day yesterday for me to see to today.
I noticed that she had me pretty much out of the office all day, running from floor to floor and even some outside errands. I couldn't help but wonder if this was part of her bid to keep Callan and I apart, but then again, why bother?
She didn't leave her office, but there was quite a bit of stomping and slamming with some loud muttering going on. I was at the edge of my seat until the others started showing up half an hour later.
When I took in her first cup of coffee for the day, I could tell that she'd been having one of her spells. Her skin was flushed, and her hair wasn't as perfectly coiffed as it had been when we left the house this morning, almost as if she'd been tugging on it.
I wanted to feel sorry for her, really, I did, and in the beginning, I had. Especially when during one of her more calm periods at home, she'd told me how stressful her job was and how hard it was for a woman like her, one who'd fought her way to the top. She made the task sound grueling, not to mention the way she described hanging onto that spot at the top.
I could see her side of things; after all, even though she might've forgotten her roots, I, more than anyone else here, knew how hard it must be for a girl from Sutter's Creek to make it to her level of success in such a demanding field.
But I couldn't accept her behavior or the way she relished putting everyone else down. It made me just a little weary of success and what I might have to do to achieve it.
I know one thing was for sure; I never wanted to be that alone and miserable. In the time I'd been here, there hadn't been one visitor, and her phone never rang in the evenings either. The other girls had a lot to say about that, and the thought made me feel guilty when I remembered her yelling at me about gossiping about her.
I hadn't done that, of course, but maybe I should've walked away when the talk turned to her and how much and why she was so despised. Instead, I usually just sat there with my mouth closed; what could I say after all? It was mostly true, and besides, they knew her a lot better than I did.
“I need you to run these to the fashion department; they were supposed to go out yesterday, so I don't know what they're still doing here." She glared at me as if it were my fault when we both knew that the only things I take from her office are the ones she hands over to me personally.
The one time I'd tried straightening her desk, I thought she'd deck me one, so I never made that mistake again. In fact, I never crossed her door unless she called for me. Though my little cubicle was a mere few feet away, she usually called me on the phone when she needed me.
That was another cause of contention among the others, but I took it all in stride; if that's what she preferred, who am I to say different? Besides, as she'd said more than once, I was lucky to have landed the job as assistant to one of the top magazine editors in the city.
“Sorry, I'll get right on it." I grabbed up the stacks of neatly folded material she had on her desk and made a beeline for the door. I didn't want to get caught in the crossfire if she had another one of her spells.
I said hello to the few faces I recognized on the floor as I made my way to the elevator. My mind was in a daze of some sort as I punched in the number.
I felt the strangest sensation overcome me as I stood there waiting for it to come, and before I turned around, I knew who was going to be there.
- Writer
