Laura Caldwell - The Night I got Lucky

“He grabbed my ass.”

I blinked. I hadn’t known about that. I would have said the same thing. “Yes, well…” I nearly faltered. “I’m sure you could have handled it better.”

Alexa’s eyes were steely now.

“And then there was Miss Martha,” I said.

“Clara was the one who was supposed to check the last copy.”

“Clara was working under you, correct?”

Alexa said nothing.

“So, that was your responsibility,” I continued, the rush surging back. “Due to these past problems and those I mentioned with your attitude, we’re letting you go.”

“What?”

“You’ll get two weeks severance.”

“That’s it? That’s insulting.”

“I’m sure you’ll find another position during-”

“I want to talk to Roslyn,” she interrupted.

“I’m sorry, Alexa, but the decision has been made. It’s done.” The words sounded strong, confident, managerial.

“You’re not sorry.” The anger in her voice startled me.

She was right. My whole body was humming from the experience, so I kept talking, filling her in on the termination of her benefits, how she would have twenty-four hours to clean out her desk. She sat rigid, looking at me with what I could only assume was intense hatred. I talked faster and faster. Finally, I asked her to sign the severance agreement.

“You know what, Billy?” Alexa said when I’d finished with my spiel.

“What’s that?”

She rattled off a string of Spanish words.

“Excuse me?” I said politely.

“It’s a Mexican saying.”

“Well, however you need to deal with it. Now if you’ll sign the agreement.” I pushed it across my desk.

She ignored the pen I held out. I noticed that my hand shook a little, my body still humming.

“Don’t you want to know what it means?” she said.

If it will get you the hell out of here, I wanted to say, but I remembered the warnings in the personnel manual about how to properly terminate an employee. “Sure.”

“It means, essentially, what goes around comes around.” She stood, shaking her shoulders back. “And I’m not signing that thing.”

“Holy shit,” Evan said, sticking his blond head in my office, “I just heard.”

“What do you think?” I whispered.

He perched on the edge of my desk. I could smell his cologne, an earthy, sporty fragrance that always made me a little weak. “Impressive,” he said.

“Is that a good thing or bad?”

He shrugged. “Lots of people didn’t like her.”

“What about you?”

His eyes twinkled. “I think she’s hot as hell.”

I scoffed. “Any other helpful opinions?”

Another shrug. “I thought she was pretty good, but you worked with her more. It was a ballsy move, Rendall.”

“Well, you know me.”

He cocked his head. He gave me a sexy, appraising stare with those mint-green eyes. “I’m not so sure. It’s like you’re a different person today.”

I cleared my throat. “Yeah, I know what you mean.”

I didn’t want to give Alexa any more opportunities to put Mexican hexes on me, so I told Evan I had a doctor’s appointment and slipped out of the office. I walked down Michigan Avenue, enjoying the sun now peeking from between the clouds. Due to the earlier rain, the air was humid, but because it was suddenly seventy degrees, it felt balmy.

What to do now? I had time before I had to meet Chris. I thought about going home, but as I crossed the street, I caught a glimpse of myself in a storefront window. Evan might have been impressed today with the trusty old brown pants and the ivory blouse, but I needed something better for a dinner with my husband to celebrate my promotion. I increased my pace and headed straight for Bloomingdale’s. Once inside, I ignored the glittering makeup counters and took the escalator to one of the designer floors, where I never usually let myself shop. But I’d gotten a raise with my promotion (I’d checked on that with the Human Resources person at the same time I got Alexa’s file) and I could afford a fabulous, celebratory outfit.

A saleswoman asked if she could help me. Usually, I turned the salespeople away, afraid of being pressured into a big purchase I didn’t need, but I was in the buying mood, so I said, “Yes, please.”

Soon, I was in the dressing room, trying on A-line skirts and sliplike dresses and spring sweaters the colors of Easter eggs. I decided on a slim marigold dress with velvety straps and a lace-up back. It was much brighter, much more chic than the clothes I usually wore, and it was perfect.

“I’ll wear it out,” I told the saleswoman.

Spring, the restaurant where I was to meet Chris, was on North Avenue in a building that had once been a Turkish bath. Outside, it still had the original stone face and columns. But inside, where it was decorated with Zenlike grasses and smooth wood tables, it was hard to imagine overweight men in towels being bathed and pounded upon by other men.

I went down the short staircase and saw Chris, sitting at the softly lit bar, a bottle of champagne in a bucket before him.

He slid off his stool. “You look gorgeous.”

“Thank you. So do you.” His hair was wet around the ears, and he smelled like shaving cream. He’d clearly showered at the gym before our date, a detail which touched me.

“You got the vice presidency, didn’t you?” he said with a grin.

At last, someone who didn’t assume I’d had the VP gig forever. Apparently, that strange assumption was held only by the people at work.

“I did!” I said. “I got it!”

He pulled me into a hug and swung me around. People were staring, but I didn’t care.

“I knew it!” Chris said. “That’s why I got the champagne.”

Our table wasn’t ready, so we settled onto bar stools and started on the champagne.

“Here’s the thing,” I said to Chris. “Everyone at work was acting like I’d been a VP for a while.” I told him about how my stuff had suddenly appeared in my new office and how no one remembered when I’d actually gotten the promotion.

“They were putting you on,” Chris said.

“I don’t think so.”

“Of course they were.”

“It’s just that everything is different today.” Like you, I thought. But instead I told him about my mom and the postcard from Milan.

“That’s great,” he said. “She needed a vacation.”

“I know, but don’t you see? It all happened overnight, after I got that frog yesterday from Blinda.”

“The frog?” Chris made a face that said, c’mon.

“I know it sounds ridiculous, but it’s true.”

“It just feels like that.” His eyes twinkled as he gazed at me. “I’m so proud of you.”

Hearing that meant the world. “Thanks, sweetie.”

He squeezed my knee. “I can’t wait to get out of here so I can get you into bed again.”

I kissed his cheek, but then I had to ask. “Chris. Why today?”

“Hmm? What do you mean?”

“I mean, we’ve been having…” I wasn’t sure how to say it. “We’ve been having troubles. You’ve been distant, and I guess I have too, lately. So why today? Why did you want to fool around and talk in bed and get champagne for me?”

He took a swallow from his glass. “You’re my wife.”

“I’ve been your wife for two years, and things haven’t been good.”

Silence.

“Was it something I did?” I said. “Is that why you’ve been so sweet to me today?”

“I don’t know what you mean.” He looked confused for a second. It was like he’d known exactly what I’d meant at some point, but now he couldn’t find that memory in his head.

“Or was it something I said?” I asked.

“What does it matter?” He took the glass from my hand and drew me closer to him with one arm, looking in my eyes with an intensity that warmed me from the inside. To be back in his graces, to feel his devotion again, was irresistible. “Doesn’t it feel right between us?” he asked.