Seven
“Can you hold my calls for the next couple of hours?”
“Sure thing, Ms. Kenton.”
I winced from the over-enthusiastic tone of Stacey’s voice. It had never bothered me before, but I’d also never gone into work with a massive hangover either.
“Arbor, you can call me Arbor, Stacey.”
She’d been here long enough; there was no need to be so formal.
“Okay, Arbor.” She giggled. “It’s weird being so informal.”
I groaned and held the phone away from my ear.
“You don’t feel very well, do you?”
“I could honestly go for some chicken noodle soup and a Sprite.”
“The diner a couple blocks over has the best soup!”
“I’ll keep that in mind when I can move from this office. Thanks for holding my calls, Stacey. I’ll let you know when I’ll take them again.”
“No problem.” Clicking from her fingers flying across her keyboard came through the line. “Do you want me to cancel your one o’clock?”
“Shit…” I whispered and tapped the receiver of the phone against my forehead. I brought the phone back to my ear, “What’s it for?”
“New client. He’s wanting help advertising his music.”
Great…a musician.
“I have, what…” I fumbled with my phone to check the time. “About three hours before the meeting.” My entire body ached from the shit I’d put myself through going out with Emily, but I couldn’t cancel a meeting with a new client only three hours before. “Keep it on the books; just hold all calls until after that meeting.”
“Sure thing, Arbor.”
“Thank you, Stacey.”
“No thanks needed, it’s my job.”
The line disconnected and I sat the phone back on the base beside my computer. I lowered the automatic shades for the first time. The cityscape that I adored was wreaking havoc on the headache that was pulsating in my brain. I crossed my arms and rested my head on them. I felt like death and Emily hadn’t even showed her happy ass up to work yet.
I powered up my computer and opened the photos Stacey had sent me from the fashion shoot I’d been waiting to work on. I wasn’t sure I could handle getting the article completed with such a headache, but I had no choice. The only part I had left was the placement of the photos I selected and the editing of said photos. I clicked through each image faster than I usually would. Selecting five of my favorites, I dropped them into my editing tools program. Being proficient in Photoshop was one of the top reasons I’d landed the job at Level PR, that and Emily pulled some strings.
“I brought you some soup and a Sprite.”
I jumped and almost toppled out of my chair.
“You scared the shit out of me.” I placed a hand over my chest and felt the erratic pounding of my heart all the way to my scalp.
“I knocked four times, thought you might’ve been sleeping so I was going to leave it on your desk.”
“I must’ve been deep in concentration.” I shook my head and noticed my headache wasn’t as intense as it had been. “You shouldn’t have.” I took the plastic spoon from its plastic wrapper and opened the soup's container. “Mmm…it smells delicious!”
“I told you they have the best soup.” Stacey smiled proudly as she backed away toward the door with a brown paper bag in her grasp.
“Did you get yourself something?”
“Yeah. I’m going to head back to my desk to eat.”
I waved her forward. “You can eat with me.”
“What about the phone?” She looked a little leery.
“It’ll be fine. I have voicemail.” I waved her over again. “Have a seat and tell me about this mysterious soup god of a diner.”
Stacey laughed quietly as she took a seat on the opposite side of the desk from me.
“Well,” she briefly paused. “Most people probably don’t even realize it’s there. When I first started working in this part of town, there was an elderly lady that answered phones beside me at the law firm I was at. She asked if I’d join her for lunch one day so I did. Let me tell you.” Stacey’s eyes twinkled as she spoke about the past. “This is going to sound as dumb as ever, but I had the best grilled cheese and tomato soup of my life on that lunch break.”
I chuckled.
“I told you it might sound dumb.” Stacey’s laughter mimicked my own.
“It doesn’t, I promise.”
The aroma of the soup wafted through the air stronger than when she’d brought it in and for once my stomach growled without a hint of nausea mixed in. Maybe I was on the mend from the hellacious hangover I’d bestowed upon myself.
“Do you have any crackers?”
Stacey’s eyes connected with mine and grew large.
“You cannot put crackers in that soup,” she said with so much conviction, I felt as if I’d asked her to help me commit a crime.
I held my hands up in surrender. “Okay, warden. I’ll keep the crackers out of it. But I would like to have some to help settle my stomach if you have any.”
Stacey gave me a knowing look as if I was trying to pull something over on her.
“Pinky swear?” I extended my pinky toward her.
She wrapped hers around mine and gave it a little squeeze before letting go and reaching into one of the brown paper bags.
“If I see you put even a crumb in that bowl…”
“I pinky promised!”
She pulled a couple individual packs of crackers from the bag and tossed one on the desk before me.
“Thanks.” I smiled. “Now it’s time to try this soup you praise so much.”
“Hell, it’s probably cold by now.” She laughed.
I shook my head and scooped a spoon full out of the container and took it directly to my mouth.
“Mmm…”
A wide, victorious grin spread across Stacey’s face.
“Yeah, yeah…” I teased. “It’s the best damn chicken noodle soup I’ve ever had.”
We chuckled and a silence fell over us as we dug into our lunches.
“That was a fucking disaster,” I groaned, digging my fingertips into my temples.
“It wasn’t that bad.” Stacey trailed behind me with the file folder in tow.
“There’s no need to try and make me feel better about things.” I shoved my office door open.
“Maybe he just assumed you weren’t feeling well.”
“Running like a bat out of hell out of the room to throw up will forever be etched into his mind when he thinks of Level PR.”
“Maybe not.”
“Stacey…” I groaned as I flopped down on the couch. “Please stop with the glass half full bullshit.”
“Sorry. I’m just trying to get you to be optimistic about how it went. He asked if you were okay when you ran out, I told him you weren’t feeling the best. People get sick all the time.”
I glanced up from my hand shielding my eyes. “But people don’t show up to a meeting with a major client hungover like I did. There’s a difference.”
“He doesn’t know you were hungover.”
I decide arguing the point wasn’t at the top of my to-do list so I let Stacey keep her glass half full crap. “If you say so.”
“Drink you some water and rest. If you need to head home for the day, I can cancel the two phone meetings you have.”
“Ugh…”
“You forgot about them, didn’t you?”
“You already know me so well.”
“Go on home. I’ll reschedule them.”
I sat up and sighed. “Thank you, Stacey.”
“No problem.”
She turned to leave my office.
“Even though I didn’t keep it down, that soup really was the best ever.”
“I don’t think I need to say I told you so. See you tomorrow, and be careful going home.”
She pulled the door to as she left and I flopped back on the couch, cursing myself for the jarring of my tummy. Surviving the day was the only thing I hoped to accomplish.