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Wherever You Will Go(9)

By:Stephanie Smith


My best friend barges in like she owns the place, carrying two very heavy-looking shopping bags. She dumps them onto the kitchen counter as I lock up and follow her in. Pulling out bottle after bottle of alcohol, my eyes must widen.

Rachel shrugs her shoulders at my reaction. “What?”

“Bad day, Rach?” I snort.

“Every day is a bad day in that hell hole. I thought we could use a few drinks. Cocktails?” She holds up two of the bottles, showing them to me.

“You know I’m not drinking until I know for sure what’s going on.” I sigh, a little frustrated that I need to remind her.

“Still no flow?” I hear the disappointment in her voice. I don’t know if it’s because I still don’t know anything yet or if it’s at me for holding onto hope.

“No, I took another test this morning. Still negative.”

“Brooke, maybe the doctor is right; maybe it’s just stress. That would make total sense why your period isn’t coming. Surely if you were pregnant it would show up, especially with all the blood tests the doctor took.” Her tone is soothing.

She doesn’t feel what I feel. I know I am carrying Nate’s baby. “I’m looking for a new doctor,” I tell her as I turn my back on her, not wanting to talk about it anymore.

“I’m worried you’re getting your hopes up and it’s going to be a massive step backwards when you fall.”

“I’m fine… I’ll be fine,” I try to reassure her.

She sighs. “Come on then, let’s have a drink. Mocktails for you. Grab me the blender.”

We carry our drinks out to the balcony and recline on the loveseat. We chat about her work and what dramas she’s dealing with there. Rachel works at a medium-size law firm, and being in an industry mostly occupied by men, she always has some kind of drama. She struggles with equality and getting recognition for how hard she works, and she works hard, including lots of late nights and weekend work. Of course with her fiery personality, she has no problems taking care of herself, and I love being entertained with her stories of office antics.

“So, there is this new guy at the office, William Bradley.”

“Yeah, what’s he like?” Rachel wouldn’t normally mention a colleague unless she was about to rip him a new one.

“He’s different. Not one of the usual douchebags I have to deal with,” she says as she looks out over the park.

“What do you mean?”

“Will treats me differently. Asks my opinion and actually listens when I’m talking. He doesn’t act like I’m beneath him because I have a vagina.”

“Well, that’s good; he sounds like a nice guy. You should be treated like an equal anyway. You work harder than most those guys there.”

“Yeah, I know. He keeps asking me to dinner,” she says casually.

“Keeps asking you? Like, you keep going?”

“No, like, I keep saying no, and he keeps asking.”

I turn in my seat towards her, suddenly more interested. “Why not, Rach? You haven’t been on a proper date in years.”

“You know I have a strict No Fucking at the Office rule.”

“This is because of that dickhead, Henson, isn’t it?”

“Of course it’s because of Henson. After that prick, I made a loyal commitment to keep work business only.”

Henson was a guy in Rachel’s office who she went home with after a Christmas work function a few years ago. During a work discussion in the lunchroom a week later, he decided to use it to his advantage by casually mentioning in front of everyone how he had slept with her. I guess it was his way to lower her opinion in the discussion when she wasn’t agreeing with him. If he knew Rachel at all he wouldn’t have been so surprised by her throwback comment about his small dick and how he didn’t know how to use it before she jumped right back into the debate.

She suffered a lot after that with sexual advances from other colleagues and snide remarks in the halls. I can see why she instituted her work rule. “Yeah, I guess it is probably a good idea to keep your rule firmly in place. Don’t want another situation like that.” I shake my head in disgust just thinking about it.

“Speaking of dickheads, I don’t know who would be worse to work with: Henson or Saxon? When are you going to begin that working arrangement?”

“No way.” I laugh. “Sax would never do anything like that. He’s too arrogant and cocky to have to stoop to that level to put you in your place.”

We both crack up laughing knowing how true it is. I wouldn’t want to be going head to head in a debate with Saxon.