Lessons In Being A Flapper (13 page)

“What do you want me to do, sit on the couch and twiddle my thumbs all day, darling? I need to be active, it’s what keeps this healthy,” she said tapping her head in reference to her mind. I could understand her desire to stay fit and limber, at her age she needed all the exercise she could get.

“I’m glad you’re here though, my love. Your grandfather has been poking his nose into my thoughts once again this afternoon.  Apparently, he’s been spying on the people you surround yourself with – does he have nothing to do in heaven? Don’t they have chess or bingo or something to keep busy? My God, you’d think he was a pr
ofessional dick, wouldn’t you?” I smiled and nodded. My grandfather, the dick. Though I knew the term meant detective, I found it amusing when she referred to him that way. I could almost picture him in his study, pouring over information in an effort to solve a mystery.

“Anywho, he has informed me that someone is hatching a plan to divert your path. He can’t tell me who because apparently he can’t pass on names – some conduct code of Heaven, I’
m presuming – but he just wanted me to warn you because he knows you hate change. Though he did say you’ll have a chance to explore more of the twenties on your own…whatever
that
means.”

I suspected that this person trying to divert me was none other than Sophie who would do anything to divert me from being with Bayani. I hoped that the result wouldn’t be us breaking up, but since I had no clues as to what her plans actuall
y were, I had to play it by ear and wait for her to drop a bomb of her own, quickly and swiftly detonating my happy little life.

O
n Monday morning, I dreaded going to the office. Bayani had texted to say he would pick me up and we could go in together to present a united front, but I wasn’t so sure that was a good idea. Should I really be rubbing my victory in Sophie’s face? It would be like rubbing salt in a raw wound (not too pleasant, let me tell you!) I gave in though when Bayani said that we had nothing to be ashamed of. If Sophie wanted to fire him, she could, he’d said. He was quite adamant that she was not going to bully him into hiding his relationship with me.

So, at 8:30 a.m. Bayani arrived. He waved to my postman (who was pleased to see that I had found someone nice for myself and seemed to be hanging around my door less
and less these days) before bounding up the stairs kissing me quickly and then exclaiming that we needed to leave or we would be late.

The last thing I wanted to do was be late. I think that would create more of a scene than anything else. Can you imagine us parading through the doors, me tottering in high heels, Bayani in his smart suit and tie, making an effort to fly under the radar but failing miserably? We might as well stick signs on our backs that read “We’re together. Get over it!” but of course that would get us in trouble no doubt. Ugh. Office politics. Sometimes they sucked (OK,
most
of the time they sucked!)

Upon arrival, I grabbed Bayani’s hand and gave him a gentle squeeze of support knowing that this was going to be just as difficult for him as for me. Although, people always did tend to favor
handsome men when it came to relationship woes, didn’t they? Everyone was pinning me as the bad guy (or bad girl, in this case) yet Bayani was walking away scot free and able to pick up any woman he wanted if we split up. Even Sophie would no doubt forgive him for dating me. It would be like a little blip in their relationship history but nothing to get angry over in her eyes. She would feel as though she won the prize goat at that point. The gloating bitch.

I couldn’t really blame him, though. That wouldn’t be fair as he hadn’t exactly asked for Sophie to hit on him had he? It’s not like you can pick and choose who you fall for. Tha
t’s all pre-determined by fate. Yes, that’s right. Everything is pre-determined by fate. I liked the idea of that. Why hadn’t I thought of it sooner? Saving Clara, meeting Marisol, almost getting run over by a gorgeous guy in a BMW…all down to fate. And timing, of course. I could have been hit by a bald-headed octogenarian with a beer belly and smelly breath. But fate did me good– for once.

T
he office was exceptionally quiet today with only a few people back from Thanksgiving break and in working mode. Bayani and I didn’t hold hands as we walked across the office floor but it was still quite obvious that we were together, I thought. For one thing, his hand kept trying to slip under my blouse as we walked. I must have looked like I was either twitching or swatting flies – neither of which was a good look for me – as I tried in vain to get him to behave. What a naughty boy he was turning out to be this morning!

When we reached my office
he kissed me publicly, whispered something sultry and sexy in my ear (which I won’t disclose here because I’m a lady and I don’t kiss and tell) then left for his own desk. He didn’t have an office, just yet, since he was more like a regular writer than an editor or director. It was still odd to think that I was his boss and my boss was his ex-lover. Awkward stuff to wrap your head around, I’ll tell you. Especially first thing in the morning when you haven’t even had any caffeine yet. 

I had so much work to do today and was finally getting into the swing of things by putting together a draft for my first feature (it was going to be on the ankle-length skirt which was making a comeback for some reason. Though I couldn’t see why. The only reason to wear an ankle length skirt in my book would be if you had cankles, which I definitely did not.)

Around 10:30 Lena popped her head in the door. I still hadn’t figured out if she was nice, mean or a little bit of both. She reminded me a bit of a dog I used to have, oddly enough also named Lena, who was slightly ditzy and did stupid things but never meant anything by them. If this Lena in front of me ever were transformed into a dog, that was who she would be for sure.

Once I stopped picturing Lena as a dog (I was stuck on whether she should be a Golden Lab or a German Shepherd) I realized that she was actually speaking and
telling me something important. Oops.

“I’m sorry, Lena, what was that you just said?”

“I. Said. Sophia. Wants. To. See. You. In. Her. Office. NOW,” she repeated as if she were talking to an imbicile. Which she wasn’t. Obviously.

I immediately changed my mind on her future as a dog. She wouldn’t be either of the aforementioned breeds because they were too nice and loyal in that order. No, she’d be something small with a weird name like a rat terrier bec
ause she reminded me of a rat. She really did. All long pointy nose and bucked teeth, the only thing she was missing was the fur. Satisfied with my conclusion, I got up with what can only be described as a smug look on my face. Ha! Take that Lena-the-rat-terrier! You don’t know what I’m thinking and never will!

“Are you all right? Why are you smiling like you just escaped the loony bin?” she said, tilting her head quizzically (just like a dog would do if it were trying to understand something
. More proof she was more canine than woman).

“Oh yes, I’m perfect. Just popping off to see
Sophia now, Rat…I mean, Lena.”  Shit. I almost called her ratty! My uncanny ability to remember people’s nicknames but not their real names was sometimes detrimental. Like just now for instance.

Leaving Lena behind I headed to Sophie’s office, winking at Bayani as I passed. I’m telling you those lessons on how to be a Flapper were really paying off. I felt like a sex kitten minus the sex. It was very empowering to not give a shit. I can see why it became so popular back in the day.

“Sophia, you asked to see me?” I said entering the dungeon, er,
office,
of the Queen Bitch herself.

“Yes, Autumn. Have a seat, w
e have some things to discuss…” I’m sure we did but did we really have to do it here and now and on a Monday morning for God’s sake?

“Sophia, if this is about the other day
I’m…”

“No, it’s not,” she said, cutting me off bitterly
and slapping her solid oak desk for emphasis. “This is about your new assignment. I’ve had a think and spoke with our board of directors and we’ve decided that you’re the perfect candidate to go to New York for three to four weeks on an exploratory mission. We want you to find out what’s hot there and tell our readers about it here.” Did I hear her right? Did she just say she was sending me to NEW YORK?

“Excuse me, did you say New York? Is that a city in California or something?”

“Don’t play games, Autumn. You know damn well that New York is the fashion and financial capital of the world. There’s only one New York and it’s clear across the country. It’s 2,906 miles away to be exact,” she said, stealing my smug smile right off my face.

“And why am I being sent to New York again? I’m only just finding my feet here and you expect me to fly across the country to research
clothes?”
  I was incredulous, mainly because I knew what she was playing at. She wanted me out of the picture so that she could have time to try and win Bayani over once again. What a fucking bitch!

I wouldn’t let her win, I just couldn’t. I’d be a disgrace to women worldwide if I let this hussy steal my man r
ight out from under my fingers. However, I couldn’t exactly turn down a free trip to New York, either. How thrilling would that be? And at Christmas to boot!

“Autumn, let me set something straight here. You work for me therefore you do what I tell you. If I say go to the fucking moon, you go to the fucking moon, capeesh? And don’t go playing your trump card by dragging my granny into this either. I’d rather she didn’t know I was sending you to New York, so just tell her you’re going on your own accord.”
I had a trump card? Obviously Sophie was a little afraid of what Marisol would do if she knew that my relationship was being wrecked by her own great-granddaughter. I wouldn’t tell her though because I had to learn to deal with things on my own for once.

“I completely understand, Sophia. Thanks for the opportunity. Now can you please tell me when I leave for the City That Never Sleeps?” I had to be sweet through gritted teeth because right now I wanted to jump across the desk and wring h
er scrawny little chicken neck.

“Your flight departs LAX tomorrow at 2:00 P.M.”

I wasn’t sure how I was going to break the news to Clara, Bayani, Marisol and Jeanette in that order. My dog’s opinion came first, of course, but I was more nervous about telling my newly minted boyfriend and my Medium-cum-friend that I was leaving for an entire month. Tomorrow was December 2
nd
, which meant I wouldn’t be returning until the New Year at least. That was a long time to be away from someone you had just started dating. Damn Sophie and her damn plans. Being apart for that long might just be the straw that breaks us. We need time to get to know each other better, to learn about each other’s flaws and insecurities. How could we possibly do that if I was almost 3,000 miles away for an entire month?

I had to tell him somehow and pray that we could make it through this. It was our first official bump since we started dating. Less than one
month into our relationship and we were already being separated. I hated fate because it gave me Bayani and now it was going to cruelly take him away from me just as quickly as he had arrived.

I
decided to start by telling Bayani my big news. After work, he and I left together and I suggested we go back to his house. I could tell he was a little puzzled by my vague answers to questions but he didn’t hesitate to take me back to his place.  So he is your average man, after all. No man can resist taking a woman home, it seems. Not even the least pushy man in the universe.

I had never been to Bayani’s house. I only
knew that it was within ten minutes of my own home and fifteen or so from Marisol’s. His neighborhood was a cute little residential area that had a mixture of upper class and middle class residents dotted within it and I could see instantly why it suited him so well here. Every home had expertly trimmed shrubs and perfectly mowed lawns. I felt like I had landed on the set of
Desperate Housewives
minus the housewives. That show could have used a piece of eye candy like Bayani, I thought to myself.

Bayani’s apartment, which he had lived in for five years, he said, was on the third floor and was much more spacious than I expected.
It was obviously a bachelor pad; with a large flat screen TV on the wall, a gaming system on the stand below and a massive couch where he could have his friends over to watch football. I found a few personal touches though, like a photo of his parents and him at his college graduation (his grandparents were from Thailand; his mother was Thai and his father American, so he was a Thai-American he said). I liked the look of his parents. They looked like the kind of hospitable people you’d want as your in-laws. Not that I was even thinking of marrying their son yet. Ok. I’m lying. I was thinking of it because he was everything I had ever dreamed of rolled into one perfectly wonderful package. But I knew we had a long way to go before we could even consider getting married, realistically.

When he motioned for me to sit on the couch and tell him what was wrong, I did. I didn’t
hesitate to blurt out the truth, that I would be leaving tomorrow for at least a month to research clothes (of all things!)