“Thank you for this week.”
I glanced over at her in surprise, abandoning guard duty. “For what?”
“For the training.” She smiled softly. “It's been great. They're nice people.”
“Oh. You're welcome.”
It was odd. I had never been thanked for mandatory training before. Most of the time, I was sworn at behind my back.
I heard her praises from all the honchos I called in with a few complimenting her too much. She wasn't mine, but I wouldn’t let out-of-state idiots get her mixed up into trouble. If anything happened, I'd have to fire both offenders. No ifs, ands, or buts.
“They never invite us to meetings like that but expect us to know the procedures. It's helpful actually to be there to learn them.”
“I figured. This branch seems a little backward.” It was the understatement of the century, but I say what I really felt, especially as the branch manager that was supposed to be all sunshine and rainbows about the future.
“Ass backward.”
I chuckled, surprised at her candidness. “Got that right.”
“But things have been getting better,” she admitted.
“You think so?” I asked, coming to a stop at the line, waving her ahead of me.
“I know so. I'm not an idiot. I knew we were in trouble before. All you had to do was look at the numbers.”
I stared at her before swallowing the truth. I wanted to vent about my experience with the numbers, but I held back.
“Things are improving.”
She nodded, plopping the detergent on the conveyor belt. “Thanks to you. God knows what will happen when you head to Chicago.”
“You know about Chicago?” I asked, raising a brow. I hadn't realized the cat was out of the bag.
“Everyone knows about Chicago,” she replied, smirking. “The walls of Croft talk, bud.”
“So I've heard.”
She glanced around before leaning close, catching me off guard as her coconut scent bombarded my personal space. “If you listen closely, you can hear the ghost of Steve Wilson doing jack shit,” she murmured.
I burst into laughter: ridiculous laughter that drew the eyes of everyone around us, her words cutting a cord of restraint deep inside.
Elena Julian wasn’t such a mousy thing, after all. She was a sassy chick with a mouth on her, and hopefully, a strong, new ally in my war against failure in Ithaca.
Elena
After trying on every dress I owned, I left a mountain of fabric strewn across my bed. I crumbled from the vixen in the bathroom mirror with cat eyes and sultry lips to an insecure mess after slipping into the first frock.
I had va-va-voom hair in a loose chignon and curves for days thanks to my favorite bra, but nothing looked right. I was aware of every imperfection, critiquing myself like a hawkish mother at a beauty pageant. Everything was too fitted or too baggy. Too short or too modest. Too plain or too flashy.
Bear had me primping and prepping like no other. I went on a few dates since the breakup, but not with a man I had gotten to know beyond a quick exchange at a bar. The weight of my expectations was pressing down despite my best efforts. What if he was my dream man, finally here to sweep me off my feet, and I showed up looking busted?
I was never one for fashion, but I faked it the best I could since coming to New York. I mimicked friends and coworkers, enviable of how effortlessly stylish they all appeared. I was lucky if I could match, let alone look bomb.com from head to toe.
It was a damn shame Lee was tied up with her in-laws, or I totally would have sent her pictures for approval. She was the fashionista I hoped to be someday.
It was intimidating that he picked Colby's, an upscale location generally reserved for special occasions. I had never been, but from the website, I could tell it wasn't somewhere I'd frequent. It definitely wasn't a typical first date spot either, but I could forgive someone that wasn't a local. He might have gotten caught up in the reviews.
I would have been just as happy to park my butt in a booth at Crow Bar in jeans and a t-shirt. There wasn't a bougee bone in my body. I hoped I made that clear.
I'd be sitting for most of the night, so dresses with boning were out. That eliminated a handful of dresses that looked great on but only if standing all night - not wining and dining. I'd be impaled by the time our entrees came.
I tossed aside the shift dresses for work as well and was left with an assortment of short bodycons and midis, each a fitting choice for the evening.
I lifted a navy midi, a number I picked up at the outlets with Lee on a whim. I pulled it on again, forcing away the negative thoughts. It was snug but hugged the curve of my hips and slimmed my waist with some well-placed ruching. The high halter top hid the goods but showed enough shoulder and collarbone to avoid a matronly look.
I finished the look with my prized Louboutins, a sparkling silver pair. I fished them down from the top of my closet, putting an end to their exile. Bear was a special occasion.
With a final look in the mirror, I was ready, heading downstairs to meet the cab driver. I decided against driving since parking by Colby's was impossible.
I texted Lee my plans on the ride over, assuring her I'd check in ASAP. It was an added safety step I always took to set us both at ease, especially since she was in a panic over online dating.
When I arrived, Colby’s was packed, men in suits dotting the private ballroom entrance with beautiful women dressed in gorgeous gowns. I
