NAME
Sara
Bryn was right. She landed Christos. He’s funding her start-up. Now she gets temporary offices in Brooklyn while we get the warehouse store ready for the big launch.
She wants me to be her personal assistant while I look for something I love. So I have been going to auditions along with attending my regular dance classes, walking dogs to pay rent, and being her PA. I love the variety. And Bryn loves the help.
“Christos. I can’t get him out of my head.”
“You two have been spending a lot of time together for this launch, haven’t you?”
“Well, aside from the fact that he vetted me head to toe… we’re looking forward to bringing this vision to fruition.”
It’s the weekend, and we’re chilling out after breakfast in our pjs in our small living room.
“Your designs walking around Manhattan—hell, the whole country. Getting worn and adored. How does it make you feel?”
“Amazing doesn’t cover it. But why is it that no matter the success, we always want more?”
“What more could you possibly want? Things are going great!”
In very little time, she’s turned her whole life around. From homeless and penniless in Manhattan to having a fabulous roommate (that’s me) and getting a cool million for her business.
“Christos.”
“Oh.” I smile. “Well, it’s the dream. Finding the one who makes your heart go pitter-pat. Makes me sad I found one who really lit me up. Makes everything seem drabber once they’re gone and you have no way of finding them.”
Bryn sighs and scans her phone. “You got another review.” She peers into the screen. “Sara was wonderful. Our Boston Terrier adores her. She’s even taught him to walk on a leash without pulling. So glad to have discovered her!”
She’s reading the review left for me on a dog-walking application, and I can’t help but feel warmth all over as I listen.
“It’s odd how much I like walking these pooches,” I admit, pulling my legs up on the coffee table of our living room. “Will you miss walking pooches now that your start-up is moving along so nicely?” I ask her.
“Oh, definitely.”
She smiles, then Bryn continues fiddling with her phone, looking distracted.
“Spit it out, Heyworth,” I demand after a minute of silence, dropping my feet and leaning forward. “You’re on cloud nine.” I roll my eyes, pretending to be disgusted when in fact, all this does is make me wonder why, why, why I haven’t found out the name of my Workaholic. I’ve checked the hotel logs since the night he left, but all I have is that California corporation name. And nothing else.
“Not cloud nine! But… ten.” Bryn giggles, then pulls up a horoscope app on her phone.
I watch her skim her horoscope, biting her lip thoughtfully as she reads her fortune—the stars—whatever you want to call it.
“I do enjoy reading these suckers, though I never pay attention to any negative things they have to say. I only run with the good ones. This time, though, it’s way off.” She sighs. I peer at the screen and realize they’re predicting that she should be ready for business and pleasure, both. Has Christos broken up with his girlfriend? Seems to me like maybe that’s what’s going on with Bryn and her Christos lately.
“Read mine,” I suddenly say, excited about hearing it. “Wait—you read it first before telling me what it says. Shit, don’t tell me if it’s bad.” I don’t want it to jinx me, or to make me feel hopeless about things.
“What’s your sign?” she promptly asks.
“Taurus. Ruled by Venus, I apparently like very beautiful and expensive things.” I take a peek as she searches up my sign. “What does it say?”
“Don’t peek and don’t talk—I can’t concentrate on reading with noise around!” She starts reading in silence.
“What does it say?” I ask.
“‘Dear Taurus,’” she begins after a moment’s hesitation. “‘If you still love him, go for it. Don’t wait for an astrologer’s permission, don’t wait for me to give you a safety net, just do it!’”
“What?” I take it and start reading stuff like “If a relationship has felt the rough and tumble of the stars, remember the universe always helps us with course corrections to fix what’s broken, or learn to let go…”
Damn Bryn, that little liar. I hand back her phone.
“Bryn, you are a lousy astrologer. You’d die poor.”
She giggles and sets the phone aside. “No, really. You’re hooked on him, Sara. I do think you need to find him. Why wait? You can be waiting forever. Why do we give our power away?” She frowns now. “I mean, we’re bombarded by all these marketers telling us what to think, how to feel about ourselves; we wait to see what others think about our clothes to determine if we really like them. We wait for an astrologer to tell us the coast is clear to do something we’ve been wanting to do. It’s wrong.”
She chews her nails thoughtfully, while I mull over the same things.
“Let’s do something we really want to do. Let’s finally do something for ourselves, take our own advice,” she proposes.
“Okay then.” Suddenly, I think, why not? I won’t end up worse off than I already am, and I could end up far, far better. Like, with my Workaholic’s hands all over me. But how can I find his name when I haven’t been able to so far?
I consider this for a second. And then it hits me. How did I never think of this before? Because you were too busy jerking off to him in the tub, Sara. Duh. Impulsively, I dial the number for the maître d’ at Daniel’s direct line and pray that he remembers me when he answers with a curt French accent.
“Oui. François.”
Hardly believing I’m doing this, I get straight to the point because I know François doesn’t like to dally on bullshit. “Hi, I’d like to see if you can do me a favor and check back on your guest list for me. I need the name of one of your guests that stayed at our hotel recently.”
“Sara Davies,” François purrs with a chuckle, recognizing my voice, and then he asks me what date, and says he’ll look into it.
“Really? You’d do that for me? Thank you!” I hang up, suddenly wide-eyed. Hell and holy shit, how did I not think of it before? My Workaholic will have had to write down his name at Daniel. Pay with a credit card. Check his coat. Something.
I’m nearly breathless with excitement, suddenly glancing at an inquisitive-looking Bryn. She looks so interested she’s nearly falling off her chair. “He’s helping me find him. Your turn,” I finally tell her, recovering myself.
“Did you really call?” She sounds doubtful.
“Do you want to call back to verify? Come on. Your turn. Go after him, Bryn,” I encourage, suddenly excited for her to do something empowering and maybe a little reckless, too.
And Bryn suddenly grabs her phone and shoots off a text, and I know who she’s texting.
So Bryn texts Christos, and as I watch her start flushing and getting all nervous, I know that this isn’t a joke. This is us, and these are our lives, and sometimes you just need to go for it.
And when Bryn suddenly heads out, looking all guilty and excited, I just know that, at least for her, business and pleasure are definitely mixing tonight.
What do you have in store for me though, stars? I wonder without daring to hope. Then I stand at the window and look out at the city, and I can’t help but hope.
I stare out the window at New York City, the city that never sleeps, where something crazy happens every day, numbing you to the hustle and bustle. It’s a city not everyone could live in, but I can’t imagine living anywhere else. My earbuds are as permanent as me, walking everywhere. Thanks to walking, my legs have been lean and toned all these years, looking as good as when I spent the better part of my childhood and teen years dancing.
God. It was magical, to move my body to the music. I would be the instrument that the music moved, and the happiest moments I remember happened when I was lost in that music, my mind a blank, simply completely immersed in the sound and how it made my body sway to it.
Sex with him felt like that, where no thought came in, only me moving to the pace he set.
Men never have that control over me, usually I would think I only satisfied my lust and that was that, but with this one, one night wasn’t enough. It was a taste that only made me crave more, and now I don’t even look at other men because they’re just not… that guy.
The guy whose name I’ll find out very, very soon.