On the Verge (39 page)

“Eve, Eve, come here.” Shit! I must have done something wrong.

“What? I’m kind of in the groove here.”

“I know, but I think maybe we should take this slow.” Slow?

“Are you serious? Are you sure? I mean I thought this is what you wanted.”

“Well, it is, but I just want to go slow.”

“Oh, okay.” I can only see his face in the shadows. “Why?”

“Well, for one thing, because you’re drunk.”

“Only a little.” He laughs.

“Right. And also, two months ago you were all about some other guy. Don’t get me wrong, I like it, but I want to make sure I’m not just some kind of rebound. I’ve kind of been imagining something like this for a while and I don’t want it to be for the wrong reasons.”

I stare at him in the dark. All this time, I’ve thought of Todd as just this kid who used to watch me make microwave cookies in the dorm kitchen and now I realize he’s a man, a mature man. Scary. I don’t know what to say. “Oh.”

“Besides, Eve, I don’t know if we should get all up in this when I’m going back to Atlanta. I mean I never planned to have a long-distance relationship.”

“You mean, you just want me to hold you?”

“No, you can talk to me, too.” So I do and then we fall asleep. Sometime in the middle of the night we wake up kissing again and then doze off again. It’s nice.

I get up and make us coffee in the morning (look at me being domestic!). I run out to get the
Times.
He has a one o’clock flight. We sit in my bed drinking coffee and reading the paper. He doesn’t get as into the
Times
as I do. He only cares about the sports section, which is good because we don’t have any section conflicts. I don’t want him to leave. I half expected to not be into him once we got up this morning, but I still am. We lie around kissing for as long as possible.

When it’s time to go, he kisses the top of my head. “I hope you had a happy birthday, little Eve.”

“I did. I’m really glad you were here.”

“Me, too.” He pulls me back for another kiss, then gets into the cab. He leans out the window. “I’ll call you.”

“Okay,” I say, and put my hand up to wave. I watch his cab drive away.

When I get to work on Monday, I’m a tad depressed. I am twenty-four. I’m supposed to be mature now. I just want to stop thinking about everything and accept that it’s normal that people
my age aren’t supposed to know what they want to do, but I can never seem to shake the feeling that I’m being sucked in.

When I get off the elevator, there are two cops and one security guard in the lobby. Did I do anything illegal this weekend? Is someone else getting fired? When Lorraine got fired there were security guards, but this is for real. This is New York’s finest.

“What’s up?” I ask Lacey, who is hanging out at my desk.

“It’s Gary.” Oh, my God! Gary is being taken out of his office in handcuffs.

“Gary!” I scream, and the cops give me a funny look. “What’s going on?”

“Take care of yourself, Eve. You’re a sweet kid.” I’m a little in shock, but I can’t really think about it, because one of the boys in blue starts asking me questions.

“We’re going to want to talk to you further, miss. Is this where you’ll be all day?”

“This is my job, of course I’ll be here.”

“Good, I wouldn’t plan on making any sudden trips.”

“What?” I yell at the officer. Soon there is another one next to us and Lacey has backed away from my desk, no doubt deciding her supply needs can wait. “Why are you talking to me like that? I don’t even know what’s going on! I just got here and I see cops carting off one of my co-workers.”

“We’ll be by a little later to talk to everyone.”

“Great, I’ll cancel my trip to the Cayman Islands.” A disbelieving crowd gathers around my desk. They are buzzing about what Gary could have possibly done. I wish they would get away from my desk. I still have to answer these crappy letters every month and I can’t do it with all the noise.

They don’t stop talking about it. They’re throwing out theories. Someone suspects embezzlement, but I get involved enough to announce that Gary didn’t really handle any money and I would know if he had any sketchy expense reports. Everyone nods at me solemnly when I say this like I’m some sleuth or something.

“I know what it was,” says Lacey, strolling over. Of course she has to steal my spotlight. Everyone turns to her, waiting. “He was selling drugs. Had been for months. He was doing illegal steroids, too. Hadn’t anyone noticed how big his calves had gotten?”

“How do you know?” I ask, but she sort of waves her hand at me.

“It was common knowledge.” Whatever, I suspect Lacey’s got
some secrets herself. She seems like she would be a cocaine person or a secret diet pill junkie.

I keep forgetting that the staff meeting has been officially switched to Monday to accommodate the
Yoga for Life
people. It happened while I was out for mental health reasons. Every Monday since then I’ve been forgetting about the meetings. I like to have moments to unwind, Monday morning especially, but instead I have to hurry down to the meeting at 11:00 and listen to a lot of boring announcements. Today everyone is whispering about Gary, but the only official word is that we will be advised when more is revealed. Herb even reads a piece that Gary wrote, which I think is a little strange.

When I get back from the meeting, I call Tabitha, who has some news of her own. She wants to tell me in person, but the Big C is breathing down her neck, trying to get ready for her impending departure. We agree to meet in The Nook at 1:30. That means I have two hours to make a serious dent in these letters that have become my nemesis.

I don’t get a chance to tell Tabitha about Gary, because as she is furiously eating The Nook’s version of chicken cordon bleu, she is talking hyperspeed about Elliot, the guy she wound up with this weekend. I can see all the cheese in her mouth as she chews and talks. I hate when she gets like this. I suppose it is kind of worth it, because this news is so amazing and shocking; Elliot works at (and Tabitha takes a big deep breath before she says this) Krispy Kreme.

“But, Tabitha, I thought you were through with service industry types.”

“Eve, that was ages ago.”

“Well, Elliot is American. If he’s American and works at Krispy Kreme he can’t have all that much money. Summer’s here, does he even have an air conditioner?”

“That’s the thing, Eve, I don’t need his money, I have enough money and you and I are going to make more money as soon as we get this magazine off the ground. Don’t make that face, you have until the end of the month to decide, and I might just do it without you if you aren’t in. Anyway, maybe I was looking for the wrong things in my men. Whatever I was looking for, I’ve found it in Elliott.” She’s talking crazy now. Any second the food is going to come flying out of her mouth. It only gets worse. “I think he’s got everything I need.”

“Why? Because he can get you unlimited Krispy Kreme?”

“Eve, don’t be ridiculous. I’m sure that’s part of it, but, it’s more I don’t know. I feel complete after this weekend. Did you know he’s in a band?”

“No, Tabitha, I never met him before my birthday. Are you sure it wasn’t just—?” I punch my hand in the air.

“Eve, are you kidding? Of course that was fabulous, but it’s everything else. It’s not about that anymore. I, too, am maturing.”

“Great. Did you tell him about your little side business?”

“Yes. I told you, I’m all about honesty.”

“You mean to tell me that he was okay with you selling your bloomers?”

“Of course he was a little taken aback at first, but then I think he saw it as an assertion of my independence.”

“How progressive of him.”

“Come on, Eve. Be happy for me. Don’t be suspect. If I can get over his social strata so can you. He only works in Krispy Kreme so he won’t have to get a real job and take time away from making his music. The fact that I love Krispy Kreme is just an added bit of fabulousness.”

“Well, when you put it that way…”

“Come on, Eve.” I guess she’s right. She does seem super (almost sickeningly) happy. I should support her, regardless of what’s going on in my love life. I am too confused by it to even go there with her or Roseanne. When Roseanne asked me Sunday how the rest of my time with Todd was I just left it at fine. Here Tabitha is, excited about a guy and not being a snob about it and not only into the booty—maybe she is the one who is really serious about maturing.

I decide to abandon her happiness for a moment and tell her my big news. “You’ll never believe what happened this morning when I got to work.”

“The writer Gary was arrested.”

“How did you know?”

“It’s common knowledge.”

“That’s what Lacey said. She said it was drug related.”

“It was. He was not only selling drugs but using the Prescott Nelson courier, Eagle Express, to messenger them all over the city.”

“I can’t believe it. Now it looks like Prescott was responsible somehow.”

“That’s right, that’s why they had to arrest him at work. They didn’t want any ties to it.”

“I can’t believe you know so much about this.”

“I’ve got my ear to the ground, Eve, and I’ve got the right connections.” She is super proud of herself now. “Tonight there is a gala event at a Soho loft for some celebrity-endorsed charity. Our names are on the guest list.”

“Is it going to be fun?”

“It’s going to be fabulous! It’s Monday night, we’re going to get drunk and smoke lots of cigarettes. We’re going to kick off the summer.” And we do.

“Eve, you look great, I’m glad you wore that lipstick.” Roseanne was going on a date with Pete, so she didn’t come. I think I’m going to have a hard time dealing with the both of them, if they are going to be locked in their lovers’ embrace all summer.

We give our name to the people at the front, just as a famous actress is whisked in. There is a paparazzi line again, which gives the party a whole new dimension. Tabitha doesn’t look at them, so I know they must think that with her sunglasses she might be someone. We rush in, laughing as soon as we get inside.

It’s quite the setup. Our job now is to get as drunk as possible. We grab drinks. Tabitha sees the
NY By Night
press photographer and asks her to get a photo of us. I set my glass down and suck my stomach in.

“I love my new job,” says Tabitha when we’re getting some food. “I’ll make sure to put one of the pictures of us in. I know I can slip it in under the wire, just as the Big C is about to leave. We’ll get a little buzz going about us. We don’t even need talent, just curiosity.” I love Tabitha when she talks like this, it’s easy to play along.

There are celebrities everywhere, they hang out among the public for a little while before heading off to their roped-off room. “Tabitha, can we get in there?”

“Eve, I don’t know. I don’t think this press pass covers it.”

“Well let’s grab a drink and try.” I can tell the room is tiny, but the bouncers are being pretty strict about who gets in. They are checking names. There is a balding guy in front of me with a long white ponytail. Two scantily clad girls run up and kiss him.

“John, can you get us in here?” He puts his arm around them and guides them in. I tug his ponytail and smile when he turns around. I am trying to emulate the scantily clad girls without getting scantily clad.

“John, can you let us in, too?” He shrugs, and then guides Tabitha and me inside the room.

“Let them in,” he says to the bouncers, and they do.

So we’re in. It’s a tiny smoky room, but we scam the couches. We sit, casually, like we belong, and can’t help feeling like we scored. We smile at each other. The girls on the couches next to us are around our age, only more expensively dressed. We try to figure out who they are. One of them is the ex-girlfriend of some sitcom celebrity.

“Look who just walked in.” I look up and see this totally famous actress approaching. Oh, my God! It’s big. She is actually a celebrity in her own right. She waves at the women next to us and smiles at us in case we might be with them. She brings her entourage over and stands by the couches next to us.

“There is no way we’re ever giving up these couches,” Tabitha says. She is thrilled that we have something a celebrity covets. Tabitha motions to a sexy waiter and orders us two more drinks. We hold on to our fabulous couch for another hour; Tabitha smiles wickedly as she orders drink after drink. The actress has to sit awkwardly on the coffee table as she chats with the ex-girlfriend. They both went to the same expensive Manhattan girls’ school. This justifies Tabitha’s actions. She is totally smug.

Finally, I propose something radical. “Tabitha, we’ve held out long enough, what say we relinquish and mingle? Maybe there’s someone else we might want to scope out.”

We get up. I can tell Tabitha is a little wobbly, but she has her dignity. We walk around. The place is star-studded. E! Entertainment Television has a camera set up and their obnoxious host eyes us, not sure if we should be interviewed. It’s the second time tonight someone has thought we could be worthy of being photographed.

“Oh, great, look,” says Tabitha, stopping dead in her tracks. It’s Kevin, the makeup artist she loves. “I suppose you’re going to go and buddy up with him again.”

“Tabitha, I doubt he’ll remember me.”

“Well, you might as well go see, Eve. Prove it to me one more time that I am destined to watch you woo away all my idols.” We walk over to Kevin.

“Hi,” I say, “how are you?” He smiles, but I doubt he remembers me.

“Okay, you?” He smiles at Tabitha, too.

“Good. Drinking.”

“That’s always fun.” I can’t believe we are actually having a conversation with him. Then his cell phone rings. He checks the number. He looks at us almost (dare I say) apologetically. “I’m having a little drama tonight. I’ve got to take this.”

“Sure,” I say. “Good luck.” Tabitha and I walk around some more. By one o’clock the party is dying out. We don’t want to be the last ones to leave, so we decide to head out, too. In the cab we are drunk and victorious. Tabitha’s only problem is that Krispy Kreme is closed.