I must look like a sight to behold in my work clothes- a plaid skirt, a nude colored top, a cream jacket over it and nude heels- with a half full tumbler of tequila in my hands.
I half expected Olivia to pull the glass out of my hands, and I was ready for the screaming match that would ensue when she pulled it away because she would gladly place herself as the object of my anger.
Instead, she walked out of the house and returned with a box in her hands, and then she made her way into the kitchen. When she returned, I noticed that the box was filled with donuts; she had her own glass and another bottle of tequila.
“If we’re going to do it,” she began as she poured from the opened bottle into her glass, “we might as well do it right.”
She clinked her glass with mine and I felt my eyes water. I showed her with my eyes the things I couldn’t say with my mouth. She gave me a smile letting me know she understood and reached for the remote.
“We would watch ‘How To Get Away With Murder’, but I don’t want to get any ideas,” her words made me chuckle lightly, “So instead we’re doing Barbie, and I don’t even want to hear you complain.”
CHAPTER 11: TWENTY THREE DAYS POST BREAK UP
I couldn’t bear to leave the house yesterday. For starters, I woke up around 9 a.m. which is the latest I have ever woken up on a weekday in at least six years. To make it worse, I woke up with a killer hangover; it felt like someone was trying to drill a hole through my skull.
Liv wasn’t in the house when I woke up. She left me a voice message saying she had gone to work and she had informed Marissa that I wouldn’t be coming in.
I made my way into the living room expecting to see it messy with tequila bottles but it was so spotless, you wouldn’t be able to tell that someone almost had a mental breakdown there.
I started to wonder how Olivia was able to clear it up considering she drank as much as I did last night but I remembered that allshe had to do was take an Advil and she would be perfectly fine. Sometimes I envied her ability to drink like she had an invincible liver and not get winded or bothered by it the next day.
I made myself a quick cup of coffee and took two tablets of Advil then spent the rest of the day sitting on my bed in my pajamas while scrolling through my social media to see what everyone was saying about Joseph’s tweet.
Contrary to Nathan’s belief; the apologies didn’t come through. People doubted the validity of Joseph’s tweet. Very few people actually believed it; most of them were perfectly content with villainizing me. I read through what felt like a million comments about the situation and with each one, I grew number to the entire situation.
It wasn’t surprising; it was disappointing.
What did surprise me yesterday was that I didn’t get any calls from my family. I fully expected my mother to blow up my phone with calls and texts but she surprisingly didn’t. At one point, I was tempted to call her and find out if she was alive or ask if she had seen what happened.
I wasn’t so lucky today though, because her call came in at exactly 6 a.m. I was just getting out of the bathroom when my phone rang. She was equal parts angry and concerned but at the end of the day, her concern won out and she just wanted to make sure I was okay.
I forced thoughts of yesterday out of my mind and tried to focus on the work at hand for today. I want to wear an original for Couture Week and it is proving extremely difficult to style a dress that I genuinely want to wear.
I don’t want to wear something that already exists. The whole point of Couture Week is to make a statement and even though Iam a judge and not a competitor; I still have a lot to prove and an original will do just that.
I have to make sure that everything is perfect; from the color scheme to the style and the design. I have to make it good enough to stand out but then not too much that I will stick out like a fucking sore thumb.
The more minutes I spent staring at the blank piece of paper in front of me, the more frustrated I got. It was like my creative juices had been blocked and I couldn’t bring anything to life. I let out a groan of frustration and lay my head against my desk.
I need coffee if I’m going to get through this.
I glanced at the clock on my wall- 12: 30. I guess now is as good a time as any to go for a coffee break.
I made my way to Marissa’s office. The door was opened and she was sitting in front of an opened laptop at her desk. I knocked slightly and she jumped slightly as she raised her head to look at me.
“I’m going out for coffee; I’ll be back soon.” I told her, “Do you want something?”
“No,” she pushed her glasses up to the bridge of her nose, “I’m staying off coffee for a while.”
“Alright; if I get any urgent calls that cannot wait at all while I’m out then tell them to reach me on my personal line.”
I didn’t wait for an answer because I knew she wouldn’t give one. As soon as she nodded, I was on my way to get my coffee. I got to the exit when someone cleared their throat behind me.
I muttered a silent prayer under my breath before finally turning to Nathan, “What do you want?”
“Good afternoon; how was your day? Mine was great thanks for asking.” He said in a bland tone, “I wanted to run some ideas by you.”
“Can we do that when I get back?” I asked, “I need coffee before I can deal with you.”
