Isat behind my desk feeling like a specter of myself. A barely-there apparitionin a scenario that didn’t quite fit. I looked at the paperwork, looked at mybriefcase, and wondered to myself how I even got here.
Jesswalked into the office with a stack of paper tucked under an arm andimmediately pinched her brows. “Hey, are you okay?”
Touchingthe edge of my desk, I nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine. I just had a long night.”
“Whathappened?” she asked, setting the papers aside and taking a seat.
“Sebastianand Greyson came by after they were at Hershey Park,” I told her, creating thescenario and wondering how far I could go before I couldn’t say anymore.
“Okay?”She gestured for me to elaborate, because obviously there had to be more.
“Greysoncalled Sebastian his dad for the first time.”
Jess’smouth dropped. “Oh my God, that had to be an emotional thing.”
Inodded, already feeling the tightness in my throat and the sting in my eyes.“It really was. And after Greyson went to bed, Sebastian …” A vivid image of agrown man falling apart flashed before my eyes. “He completely lost it.”
“Oh,God,” Jess sighed ruefully, tipping her head and frowning. “I hate when men cry.Nothing wrecks me quite like that.”
“Itwas rough,” I agreed. I leaned forward in my chair, beginning to shuffle thingsaround my desk. Trying to make it feel right. Trying to make it look more likeme.
Whoam I, anyway?
“Isthat it?”
Iraised my eyes to hers. “What do you mean?”
“Well,I mean, it’s emotional, yeah, but you just seem completely off right now. Didsomething else happen?”
Iplaced my stapler next to the tape dispenser, thinking for a second that itlooked right, until a second later when it didn’t. I shifted them again. Stillnot right. Maybe next to the paperclips, or maybe—
“Tabitha?”Jess’s tone was urgent, tugging me away from my reorganization. “God, what’sgoing on with you?”
“Jess,”I cleared my throat, dropping the stapler next to the cup of pens. “Have youever looked at your life and felt like you don’t know who you are anymore?Like, you look around at everything and you wonder how exactly you got there?”
Shefixed her thoughtful gaze on the pens and shrugged. “I don’t know. I mean, Iguess so. I think everybody feels like that from time to time.”
“Ithink I’m going through an existential crisis or something.”
“Butwhy? What happened?”
Ilooked up at her, the woman who I considered to be my closest friend, andasked, “Do you know I have my nipples pierced?”
“Whoa.Okay. I wasnotexpecting you to say that just now.” Jess blinked a fewtimes, leaning back in her chair. “No, I can’t say I knew that.”
“Well,I do,” I told her, nodding. “And I have this huge tattoo over my upper back,and I am so much happier in my Chucks than I ever am in these stupid heels.”
Hersmile was sympathetic. “Honey, I don’t know a single woman who wouldn’t preferto wear jeans than dress pants to work, but it’swork,” Jess laughed,staring at me as though I had completely lost it. And maybe I had. “I justdon’t understand why this is a problem. Okay, so you have a tattoo and crazypiercings and you like wearing sneakers. Big deal.”
“Ican’t be a professional adultandhave the things I really want.” Myoffice was a confessional and she was my priest.
“O-kay,”she drawled, taking in my words with a nod. “What do you want?”
Itipped back in my chair, staring at the ceiling. “Imagine this for a second,okay. Imagine I’ve moved up in the world of real estate, which is a very realpossibility, now that I’m working for someone like Roman. I’m somewhat renown, peoplein circles know my name, and I’m invited to things where I have to schmoozewith business moguls and celebrities. You with me?”
“Uh-huh...”
“Okay.”I pressed my fingers to my eyes and pulled in a deep breath. “Now, imagine mydate. Imagine he has long hair that he refuses to cut, imagine he has tattoos onnearly every part of his body, and imagine that he can’t keep his stupid mouthshut. How would that look for me? How would it look to go to a very upper-classdinner with a man who doesn’t even own a pair of dress shoes?”
