Depths (3 page)

“That’s ridiculous!” I seethe on his behalf, though, again, honestly, I have no clue if she’s dead-on in that regard. He’s an amazing conversationalist, and I’m not even bored when we’re talking straight business. But we’ve always had a natural ease with each other, so maybe I’m biased.

“And the worst thing is, now that she said it, I can’t shake the idea that maybe…maybe she’s right, you know? I mean, I know
you
get it. What it means to work hard, to put yourself out there every day because you have a job to do, because other people depend on you. She never got that. To tell you the truth, she had the luxury of doing whatever the hell she wanted because her parents totally spoiled her and gave her everything. It’s not like that for me. I’ve always had to work hard for what I have.” He lets out a long, frustrated breath.

“Well, I may be overstepping but—”

His laugh cuts me off. “You’re not. Trust me. I’m the one using up your time whining about my pathetic love life. And I really respect you, Maren, so if you have any advice for me, I’m all ears.”

A tiny coil of warmth unfurls low in my stomach and knots my tongue. “Oh. Cohen, it’s just, um…thank you. I, um, don’t claim to know much about, you know. Love. And all that. But, I think that this was a good thing. If you think you are maybe…taking things too seriously…with your life, what better time than now to put yourself out there? Make a bucket list and start crossing things off. You’re always telling me to do things for myself. Well, take you own advice. Get out there!”

For a minute there’s nothing but silence on the other end, and I’m scared I really did overstep. I should have just stuck with sympathy; I suck at advice.

Then his voice rings out, excited. “Maren, you’re a damn genius! This is great. You know what? This is perfect.” He’s getting louder and more energized with every word. “I love this. You’re right! Maybe this whole thing was a blessing in disguise.”

“That’s right,” I rally him. “And, look, Cohen, if that was the only problem, I think it was crazy that her solution wasn’t just to do more exciting things with you. You are freaking amazing. Trust me, good guys like you are few and far between.”

He’s quiet, I assume thinking over what I’ve said. I chew on my bottom lip, hoping I haven’t crossed any lines.

“Hey?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re making me blush,” he says, and I laugh with pure relief. “I really…it means a lot. To me. What you think of me. But Mare?”

“Mmm?” I don’t manage an actual word, because my heart is in my throat.

“Right back atcha. You’re…There’s no one quite like you, cheeseball as that sounds. And you deserve the best. You know that, right?”

“Thank. You,” I say slowly, because I want to say so much more that I’m chicken shit to even think. So I hide behind a stupid cop out.

Basically my MO.

And I guess my general lameness snaps Cohen out of talking about how cool he thinks I am.

“Listen, Maren, I seriously can’t thank you enough. I really needed to hear that this morning. I’m going to get off so I can do some work and let you get some done, but I plan to make that list. You can hold me to it. And I’m gonna cross things off. All because of you. So thank you.”

His voice is so sincerely grateful, it flattens my lungs free of any spare oxygen. I manage to gasp out some fumbling, awkward words. “You’re so welcome. I’m really… I’m glad I could help. You deserve to be happy. And if you ever need to just talk, you don’t have to wait for a shipment to come in or anything. I’m here. Whenever you need.  If you do. Not that you will!”

I shake my head and clamp a hand over my own stupid running mouth. What the hell am I saying?

“That means a lot. Really. And it goes both ways, okay?” The rumble of his voice sets my heart racing and tripping over itself.

Before the stretch of silence after his words gets too long and awkward, I rush to fill it in. “Okay. Well, we should get back to work, I guess. I hope your day gets better, Cohen.”

“It already did. It did the minute I heard your voice, Maren. I hope your day is great.”

I squeak out a goodbye just as Jacinda, the accounts payable girl, knocks on the glass of my door. I slam the phone down, feeling guilty even though there’s no reason at all for me to feel that way.

“You look like you’re up to no good,” Jacinda says as she breezes in and collapses on the chair across from my desk. “Are you secretly a phone sex operator moonlighting as a nice, organized secretary?”

Just to irritate me, she peels off three post-it notes and sticks them on the edge of my desk.

My fingers twitch with the urge to rip them off, but I control my anal retentive leanings. I hate it when people touch my office supplies.

Hate it.

I’m going to jack her parking spot tomorrow to retaliate.

I also blush hot imagining what phone sex with Cohen would be like. He is newly single after all, so it’s not like it’s imposs—

Ugh! Jacinda is always the worst interrupter of my day.

Well, after Cohen. But I actually enjoy being interrupted by him. It’s different.

“
I
am getting work done, unlike
you,
and, no, my work does not involve moaning and panting into the phone. Unlike your work, as far as I can tell. By the way, it’s great you have a new boyfriend, but you should really close your office door when you, um, entertain him on his breaks.” Her smile is completely smug, not even remotely embarrassed to know the entire office overheard her amorous conversation. I raise my eyebrows at her. “Why are you bothering me already?”

She snaps out a new business card, and I try to suppress a groan.

“No. Not again. I had to give scented candles as gifts to every single person I knew for an entire year. And the Tupperware? It’s still in the packages. And the freaking muffin mixes and salsas and dips…okay, those were delicious, but I had to get a gym membership because I gained
fifteen pounds
. Stop. This. Madness. These get-rich-quick schemes don’t work for you.” I push her hand back, but she’s unfazed and keeps pressing it in my face.

“The other things didn’t work because I had no personal investment in them. I don’t really like candles, and I hate cooking, so it should have been obvious that those were going to be duds. But
this
is something I can totally get behind.” She lays the card down on my desk, and I gasp and shove it under my appointment book.

“Jacinda,” I hiss. “I thought you were joking when you asked about the phone sex. What the hell are you thinking?”

“Don’t be such a prude,” she whines, sitting up straight, her bleach-blond bob swinging back as she raises that pointy chin of hers. “It’s business.”

“It’s smut,” I object, flipping the card back at her. “Where did you even find someone to print these cards up? They’re…they’re porn!”

She laughs, her slight frame shaking. “They get your attention, right? Don’t get all uptight. It’s not only sex toys. Look, I bet you have fourteen pairs of white undies and a couple of nude bras in your drawers. I’m selling lingerie, too, and you could use some.”

I clutch at the top of my shirt. My underwear are
not
all white. They have colors and designs. I mean, they’re also cotton, but that’s not necessarily a bad thing. They’re comfortable, and when I put them on, I immediately forget about them. Which is kind of the point of underwear as far as I’m concerned.

“I don’t need new underwear, especially from whatever trashy catalog you’re ordering from now,” I gripe.

Jacinda raises one dark, over-plucked eyebrow. “Can I interest you in a vibrator, then? It’s been two months since you went on that date. And I assume from your stories about his rancid garlic breath and clammy hands that it didn’t end with a hot, body-shaking orgasm?”

I point at the door. “Get out.”

“Oh! Is it back on with Jason?” Her eyes go wide. “I know he’s a jerk, but, good Lord, he is hot sex on a stick! And there’s a sweet little set on page forty-three, one of those thongs with a bow that makes your ass look like a present. I bet Jason would unwrap you the minute he saw it, if I you know what I mean.”

“Out!” I point a finger to the door.

“Think about it.” She gets up and straightens her too short skirt with a quick tug. “It might be fun. Fun…hmmm. Do you know what that word means anymore? Because you used to be fun. Lots of fun. Remember? And then you got…so adult.”

“We
are
adults, Jacinda,” I sigh.

Has it really been two months since my disastrous date with that idiot whose name I can’t remember? Maybe that’s why I’m thinking about seeing Jason again. I’m turning into a cobwebby old spinster.

Cohen’s voice spins in my head.

You deserve the best. You know that, right?

I think about another night with my dad passed out drunk in his recliner, some tasteless dinner and boring TV show all I had to distract me from the pile of bills I don’t know how to pay.

I deserve…something else. Something fun. Just for the night.

Jacinda senses the fact that I’m considering her stupid idea, and she bounces on the balls of her feet, anticipating my cave-in. I slide the card out from its hiding place, and the image of the entwined bodies makes me blush. And feel a little…horny. What business do I have advising Cohen to seize the day when I’m spiraling into such a sad, boring state of loserdom?

Maybe this office isn’t the present I can barely endure: maybe it’s the future I’m barreling towards without even realizing it. That clinches it for me.

“Fine.”

“Fine? You’ll come?” She claps her hands a little. “Can you bring someone? I can get you a discount if you bring someone!”

“Get out,” I groan. “I have work to do. Work that doesn’t involve selling flavored lube.” I glare at her, but Jacinda is unruffled by my disapproval.

“Bring a friend! My place, eight sharp on Friday. I’m glad you’re finally dusting off your lady parts and getting back in the game.” She trills this lovely observation at the top of her lungs as she exits into the main office hallway.

I sprint to the door and slam it shut, contemplating co-worker murder. I cram the scandalous card in my purse and put it and all things sexy out of my mind so I can get some work done without X-rated thoughts gyrating through my head.

“What are you doing here, man?” my best friend Deo stands in the open doorway. I lean against the doorframe and close one eye to steady myself and to help focus on him, since the earth spun the entire walk over here.
    “I couldn’t make it all the way to my place,” I say. I can hear myself slurring, but I’m powerless to correct it.
           “Do you want me to drive you home?” Deo asks.
           I shake my head. Then realize that was a bad idea. More spinning.
           “No cars. Too much movement. Can I just crash here?”
           “Oh, let him in for fucks sake, Deo!” Whit, his hot-as-hell girlfriend calls from behind him. Deo smirks at me before stepping aside to let me pass. I take the four longest steps of my life, then collapse onto his sofa, face first.
           “I take it you had a little too much to drink?” Deo laughs.
           “Fuck off,” I mumble. I think I’m drooling on their couch. I sort of don’t care.
           “Cohen, you want something to eat? We had chicken and rice,” Whit yells from the kitchen.
           “You cooked, Whit?” I pick my head up just a bit at the mention of home-cooked food. I’m not too drunk for that.
           Deo snorts. “Please.  Whit brings the sexy to this relationship. I’m the domesticity.”  

He hands me a glass of some thick, red shit that I know will perk me right up. We’ve shared pitchers of this mystery concoction before. No telling what’s in it, but it’ll sober you up and cure any hangover. I hold my breath and chug the gritty sludge as fast as I can, then lay back and wait for the mystery potion to work its magic.
           “So, what’s with you trying to out-drink the frat house?” Deo asks as he sits down on the arm of the red sofa.
           “Kensley. She broke up with me.”
           Deo sucks in a quick breath through his teeth. “Ouch. Sorry, bro.”
           “She said I’m not impulsive enough or some crap like that. What does that even mean? I’m bo-hoodles of fun.” No one says anything, and it’s like total confirmation. “Right?”
           “Please, you’re super predictable and responsible and stable and all the things that a girl doesn’t want in a guy at our age, Cohen,” Whit says. She’s standing next to Deo and he’s rubbing his hand up and down her thigh while she talks, and I can’t help but want to roll over and cry like a man-baby at the sight of the two of them.  “She wasn’t good enough for you anyway.”
   “She was way out of my league,” I say.
   “Wrong. You’re just feeling sorry for yourself right now. Once you sober up, things will look different,” Deo says.
   “I’ve got to go to work, boys.” Whit takes Deo’s face in her hands and kisses him for a long few seconds.
   “Damn, I wanted you to stay here and hold me, Whit,” I say just to break their little love spell.  Deo reaches over and smacks me in the back of the head.
   “I’ll give you that one because you’re drunk, but Whit doesn’t spoon with anyone but me,” Deo says. He smacks Whit on the ass as she walks by to get her coat and she giggles and swats at him. “You want me to drive you, baby?”
           “No thanks, I’m fine. You guys have a good night,” she says. She leans over me and kisses me on the temple. “Hang in there, Cohen.”
           “Sure thing,” I say. But I don’t want to hang in. I want my girlfriend back. I want to be at home right now, in front of the TV, eating takeout with Kensley. I want to go through our nightly routine. Head to bed after
The Daily Show
, freakishly good- albeit predictable sex, coffee in the morning. What was so wrong with that?