Kat Fight (5 page)

“Well,” Brooke begins. “We have the wonderful layouts for Bellagio that Ryan put on boards this morning. I’ll be presenting them on Friday, and I know they’ll be well received. Other than that, we have the outdoor campaign for Chase in the works and the corporate brochure for Smith Mutual that is still pending. That’s pretty much all I have.”

As other co-workers give their status updates, I nervously pretend to take notes. During this charade I casually lift my head to glance over at Ryan, and when I do, he’s staring straight at me. His gaze catches me completely off guard and I drop my phone like a useless buffoon. As I go to retrieve it with the same grace, I knock the desk with my head on the ascent. I immediately look at Adam once I regain my composure, and he gives me an enthusiastic thumbs-up. I can’t even look at Brooke. Instead I do an involuntary move like a turtle, forcing my head to sink, my shoulders to rise, and my body to lower itself slightly.

Always a glutton for punishment, I gear up for round two. I settle back in my chair and grab my phone so I can pretend to check for emails. Again I glance around the room and sneak a peek at Ryan. He’s pointing to something on Dave’s calendar, which gives me an opportunity to hold my glance for a few extra seconds. He’s really freakishly handsome. I look down as someone is texting me. It’s Adam.

Take a picture

He texts.

Take a hike
.

I respond.

He’s watching you.

Adam informs me.

For real?

I ask.

Yes, quit slouching.

He orders.

I’m going to look at him.

I text back and sit straight.

I’m going to pretend I care.

Adam answers then places his phone on the table.

I put my phone in my lap and lift my head. Sure enough Adam is right. There goes my breath again.

The rest of the day unfolds like normal. More online word games than actual work, and no more surefire encounters with Ryan. My goal this afternoon is to try and determine when he might be leaving for the night, so that we can bump into each other on our way home. I tell Adam and Brooke not to come near me at the end of the day from now on so I can exit the building alone. I’m mildly offended when they seem all too eager to oblige.

At six o’clock I turn off my monitor and get ready to leave. I’m willing to return to my desk at least twice and pretend I’ve left something there in case I don’t see him at the elevator bank. When it’s time to leave, I go to retrieve my purse from my bottom desk drawer and I feel my low-waisted jeans sinking way below sea level. Just as a small breeze hits the top of my newly exposed butt crack, I hear his voice.

“Any chance you’re headed my way again?” Ryan asks.

Smack! My head hits a desk for the second time today as I try to pull my pants up and stand all in the same motion.

“Sure, no problem. But, just so you know, I am prepared to install a meter in the car in case this gets out of hand.” Pants and witty banter are back on!

“I see, and here I had you pegged for the bighearted, push-over type.”

“Sorry, nothing big in that arena,” I say and gesture to my chest.

Once I realize I’ve all but asked him to stare at my boobs in an effort to be clever, I change the subject. “I know I didn’t get to properly articulate myself in the creative meeting this morning, but I did love the stuff you did for Bellagio.”

“Thanks, Kat,” he says and smiles at me. “Is your head okay?”

“Yeah,” I answer, rubbing it.

As we walk to my car we continue to discuss work, and I’m deliberately carrying the conversation this time—hardly allowing him to get a word in. He for sure thinks I’m on drugs now, given my mood swings.

“How’s everyone been treating you around the office so far?” I ask with concern.

“So far so good. Dave has been really great, and the graphics team is amazing. They’re making my job look really easy.”

“Dave is a terrific guy, with an equally terrific team of people working for him.”

“I see you and Adam are close buds,” he says as we approach my car and climb inside.

“Yes, we are. But he guards his relationship with Dave pretty closely, so I’m afraid I don’t have much scoop for you. I’ve been sworn to secrecy.”

“I wasn’t prying.”

“I know, sorry; it’s just that people do tend to think I have some unique insight into Dave because of my friendship with Adam, but it’s quite the opposite.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he says.

As I’d done two weeks ago, I pull up in front of his apartment and watch as he hops out of my car. And just as I’d been hoping, he leans back in through the open window, which I’d strategically rolled down as soon as we’d gotten in.

“Thanks again. I could get used to this.” He smiles and then pauses. “I was wondering if you’d like to go out sometime? You could drive.”

I’m shocked and completely taken aback. So much so that I don’t have a chance to respond before he speaks again.

“I don’t know if you feel weird with Julie and all. And, well, with us working together, too,” he continues. “I’m not sure what she’s told you about me, if anything.”

“I guess that might be a little awkward…” I start to explain but he cuts me off before I can finish my sentence.

“No worries, I understand. I’ll see you tomorrow. Thanks again, Kat.” He smiles and saunters away.

He didn’t let me finish! I planned on explaining that while it might be a little awkward, I would absolutely love to go out sometime. But he didn’t really seem to care. I mean, he has such a confidence about him; it was like either way my answer would have gotten the same reaction. A cool, relaxed squinty grin, followed by a slow pivot. I, however, want to crack my skull on the steering wheel. What just happened? I tear through my purse looking for my cell phone.

“Hello, hello,” Adam answers.

“I need help,” I blurt out, trying to turn the wheel with two hands and balance the phone on my shoulder.

“More than I can give, I’m afraid.”

“I’m serious. I think Ryan just asked me out, and I just rejected him, all within like twenty seconds!”

“I’m going to need a little more information than that,” he says, chewing.

I tell Adam the whole story and I can barely believe it myself. The streets near my building are packed with cars, and it takes me forever to drive around looking for a place to park. I finally find one four blocks away, and continue the conversation sitting in my car.

Adam takes a sip of something before he comments. “Look, Kat, if he asked you out once, he’ll ask you out again. You’re overlooking the most important part, which is that
he asked you out
.”

“You’re right. I haven’t properly appreciated that yet. But I handled the whole thing like such a jerk, and there’s no guarantee he will ask me out again. Why should he? I made it perfectly clear that I’m uncomfortable with upsetting Julie or getting involved in something like that,” I say. “And quite honestly, I shouldn’t be getting involved with him until I know what’s going on with them.” I shake my head. “Now that I think about it, I can assure you he will not ask me out again.”

“All that went down in under twenty seconds?” he asks in his signature deadpan voice.

I sense Adam is not in the mood to be a sounding board and he’s going to stick to his convictions and tell me to just be happy that Ryan showed any interest at all. I understand that he’s trying to make me calm down, but I feel like I’ve ruined the whole thing and I can already envision the gray cloud of obsession that is going to loom over me as I debate this over and over in my head for the next forty-eight hours.

Just then I get an incoming call from Julie. “Oh my God, it’s Julie! I have to go,” I say to Adam and switch over before he has a chance to say goodbye.

“Hi!” I say and exit my car.

“Don’t forget we’re going to the Hunt Club tomorrow to watch the Sox game at six o’clock. Any chance in hell you can be there early to grab a table?” she asks.

“I’ll try, but I won’t know for sure until I determine Brooke’s mood after lunch.”

“Okay, see what you can do,” she adds. “And I invited a couple gals from my office too.”

“Sounds great. Can I bring Adam?” I ask, still trying to balance the phone.

“I would expect nothing less. See you then.”

I hang up with Julie and try to call Adam back but he doesn’t answer his phone.

Bastard.

I decide to stalk him via text.

I know you just saw my call.

I text him.

I did.

He replies.

Call me pls!

I plead.

Busy, luv u

He says.

WTF?

I ask.

With Dave, I’ll call u later

He responds.

Grrrrrr

I reply.

The next day, despite my commitment to focus on work, I spend hardly any time at my desk and instead relentlessly wander the office floor hoping to run into Ryan. Sometime after my eighth lap, and a few minutes past ten o’clock, Brooke informs me that the creative team is out of the office all day on meetings so I won’t get to see him today.

When I woke up this morning, I vowed to take a stand, confront Ryan, and accept his invitation. No more wishing for things to happen, only to screw them up when they do. I’m determined to let him know that I would love to go out with him. A task that is going to be much harder considering he’s nowhere to be found.

Since my courage has been postponed and the day is free of any real excitement, I bury myself in work and gear up for a night out with the girls. When Adam and I arrive at the Hunt Club, Julie is already seated with our friend, Beth, and two girls from Julie’s office. Unlike me, she’d been able to get here early and snag a table. The bar is packed with men, which is quite pleasing to everyone in our group, and nothing brings out the backward caps like major league baseball.

“Thank God for sports because I really don’t know how else we’d meet anyone around here,” Julie states as we take our seats and exchange air kisses. “So how’s work, kids?” she asks.

“Busy, but good. Brooke gets to go to Vegas on Friday to present some Bellagio creative, and I’m trying to will her to take me with. Other than that, she busted me on Facebook again, so that should pretty much tell you how exciting things are.”

Adam turns to me with a gleam in his eye. “Nothing else exciting at the office?” he questions knowingly, trying to start trouble.

I turn slowly to face him head-on. “Other than the possibility of watching you get your ass kicked at a sports bar? No, not much,” I say loud enough to make my point and silence him.

Julie throws her arms in the air and invades our peripheral vision. “Well, way to hold out on me! I heard The Chef is working at Lambert & Miller now. I sent him an email inviting him tonight and he told me about his new gig.” She pauses, looking at both Adam and me. “Hellooo, why didn’t you tell me?” she wonders, waiting for an answer.

I’m a little too stunned to immediately respond, so I take a long, slow sip of my drink while I formulate an answer. Meanwhile, my head sinks down between my shoulders like a turtle again.

“You know, I actually don’t see the creatives that often… and I just put it together that it was him the other day,” I stammer.

Adam leans his elbow on the table.

Julie shakes her head. “I can’t believe he’s working at your office. How crazy is that? You have to keep me posted on what’s up with him,” she demands.

“Have you two been seeing each other lately?” I have to ask given this golden opportunity.

“Not as much as I’d like. He seems pretty busy and never has time to go out anymore. We’ve emailed a few times, but I haven’t actually spoken to him in two weeks,” she says and fishes through a small Coach change purse for some lipstick.

“So, you invited him tonight?” I confirm.

“Well, I know he’s a huge Sox fan so I thought I’d throw an invitation his way,” she says smiling. “He asked me if you’d be here tonight so I’m a little surprised he didn’t mention anything.”

I freeze at the thought of him asking Julie about me. “Like I said, I rarely see the creatives all that much.”

Adam turns toward me with his eyebrows elevated and a huge grin on his face. He then turns away and addresses Julie. “Actually, Dave had his entire creative team out of the office today, so Ryan probably didn’t have the chance,” he reassures her with a little more detail.

“Well, I didn’t want a table filled with just us girls, no offense Adam, so hopefully he and his friend will show up. He said in his email that he’d try and make it,” she adds and suddenly turns toward the door and jumps to her feet. “Oh, speak of the devil!”

Gulp.

Adam begins to silently clap his hands and I lower my head. Julie stands up on her tippy toes and frantically waves Ryan and his friend over to our table. Thankfully he’s not dragging Porno Pete along.

“Hi, honey!” Julie welcomes him with a hug that is so over the top you’d think he was a soldier returning home from his call of duty.

She peels herself away. “Glad you could make it,” she says. “Last one to arrive has to get the next round. Come on, Ry, I’ll help you carry them.” She grabs his shirt and pulls him toward the bar before he has a chance to sit.

Everything is happening so fast I can hardly keep up with which sweat glands need to be wiped. I didn’t even have one complete minute to digest the fact that Ryan
may
be joining us before he arrived. The evening of stress-free cocktailing and girl talk just turned ugly.

Adam wafts me with the drink menu. “I think it’s going great. Only he’s with Julie, and you’re still here with me.”

I take a deep breath. “Why wouldn’t he hang out with her?” I ask in an effort to console myself. “He has no reason not to, given the circumstances. Anyway, it’s over and done with; I’ve decided to drop the whole thing and move on. Thankfully, Julie is clueless about any of it, and we can just act like nothing happened. Because it hasn’t. And since no one besides you and Brooke even know I’m interested in him, there’s no harm done.” I adjust my posture so that my spine is nice and straight and put on my best happy face.

Adam quickly corrects me, “Well, true, sort of. No one but us… and Dave.”

My spine curls. “Sorry?” I ask curiously.

“I forgive you?” he says guilty, with a smirk.

I take another breath and squeeze his arm as hard as I can. “No, I mean what the hell did you just say, you
sorry
ass?”

“Ow, your nails,” Adam chuckles nervously and tries to pry me off of him. “I said ‘and Dave.’”

I try to remain calm. “What do you mean ‘and Dave?’” I ask through gritted teeth.

“Well, I mean that I
heard
Dave knows you’re crushing on Ryan.”

As if my heart isn’t already beating at a dangerous pace. “How did you
hear
that?!” I whisper-shout.

“I overheard myself telling him??”

My mouth is now entirely agape and I’m speechless. Ryan and Julie approach the table at that moment and Julie notices the cavernous hole where my lips once were.

“What’s up?” she asks.

I look up at both of them as I remind myself that Ryan and Dave are never without the other during the course of a day. If what Adam says is true, there’s no way that Ryan is oblivious to my feelings for him.

I start to answer her. “Well, I’m just shocked because Adam was telling me that he had diarrhea, for like three days last week, and had to have his mom come in from Terre Haute to help him. I just couldn’t believe it.”

She glances at Adam. “Sorry I asked,” Julie says cringing.

Adam shrugs at her in defeat.

I turn and whisper to him, “You should’ve answered your phone yesterday when I needed you.”

“Touché,” he whispers back.

Then Adam lifts his drink to shield his mouth with it. “If it’s any consolation, Dave thinks your feelings may be reciprocated, which you should have realized when Ryan asked you out. You’re welcome,” he says smugly.

After the chaos of the previous twenty minutes, I notice that Ryan has taken the open seat next to me, while Julie is seated across the table from him. The more Julie drinks, the more of her body she lays on the table trying to get closer to him. After about forty minutes of this, she is almost entirely horizontal and I simply can’t take it anymore. I’m struggling to remain calm, and not overly theatrical, but I feel like the whole evening is spiraling downward. At least for me anyway. Everyone else seems to be enjoying themselves quite nicely, Adam in particular.

About one hour after Ryan’s arrival, I start to feel a little nauseous, albeit, nothing to do with the alcohol. I’m watching Julie flirt with him, and a cold sweat comes over me as I sense I am losing control of something, or doing something I shouldn’t be doing. I keep shifting my posture in my seat and staring at the ball game, which I couldn’t care less about, as I grow more self-conscious and uncomfortable—although no one is even looking at me. Why have I put myself in this situation? Why have I let myself get involved with someone Julie is clearly interested in? The fact that she and Ryan are still communicating enough that she’d invite him here tonight means that I should back off. Thank God he was out of the office all day today. What if I had declared myself to him this morning as planned, only to end up where we are now? I need to escape this place, but since I’ve come with Adam it won’t be that easy. Especially because nothing pleases him more than impending drama.

At this point, the ladies’ room seems to be my best refuge, so I excuse myself to the crowd of zero people chatting with me and make my way through a skinny corridor and across a damp, beer-scented rubber floor mat. I’m not quite drunk enough to insist on leaving, or quite sober enough, either. I’m exactly where I should be—two margaritas down, high hopes shattered, and now staring at a mirror fashioned out of bulletproof foil. Not pretty. The mirror or me. I squint really hard and double-check the funhouse image of myself one last time before heading back to the table. As my pity party hits full swing, so does the tequila, and I’m ready to face the music. I convince myself that sulking will only make things worse, and I really need to put my big girl panties on and get over this one-sided love affair before someone (i.e. me) gets hurt.

As I exit the bathroom, eyes glued to the sticky floor, I nearly bump into the next person in line. The hallway is extremely narrow and as I slowly look up to apologize, I realize it’s Ryan. He’s leaning against the grease-stained drywall, arms crossed, shirt perfectly untucked, and he’s not gesturing to get past me to use the toilet. Nor is he doing much of anything except smiling. Clearly this is not going to help the nausea.

“Hey, Kat,” he says, breaking the silence.

“Fancy meeting you here,” I say with immediate regret.

As if it’s territorially possible, he inches closer to me before continuing. His arms remain crossed, all else remains perfect. “I know you were a little wary of the idea yesterday, but I’d really like to take you out sometime. Think you could reconsider?”

I freeze, all statuesque five-feet-two inches of me staring at his chest. “Yes,” I say.

“Yes, you’ll reconsider, or yes you’d like to go out sometime?”

I look up without lifting my chin, and simply roll my eyes to meet his. “Yes, I’d
definitely
like to go out sometime,” I say, desperate to thank him for a second chance.

“Look,” he says. “I don’t want to put you in an uncomfortable situation with Julie, but I do want you to know that things are over between us. I’m not interested in her, and you’re the only reason I came by here tonight. She said she was meeting you and Adam. And that’s why I came. To see you.”

Again he’s left me speechless. Just ten seconds ago I convinced myself to move on. Abandon all thoughts of getting involved with him. Stick to hanging out with the gays, and maybe one day Marc will have a change of heart and grace me with his presence again.

“Okay, great,” he continues before I have a chance to speak. His smile widens, and his eyes narrow as he puts his index finger under my chin to lift the rest of my face to meet his. “I’ll find you at work tomorrow and we can pick a date.” He turns slightly to walk away, and I manage to grab his wrist. He turns back around and looks down at me.

“Ryan, I just want you to know that I’m really looking forward to it.”

He smiles again, and so do I.

We walk back to the table together and Julie jumps on him piggyback style. I start to wince as he tries to shake her off respectfully. His muscular build combined with his bashful nature makes almost anything he does acceptable. I sit back down and Adam gives me a curious look. Our synchronized absence did not get past him.

“Everything kosher back there?” he inquires.

“Crystal kosher clear,” I say.

“Mazel tov.” Adam winks at me. “We’ll discuss this later,” he whispers, before announcing he’s going to look for the dance floor.