Intoxicated (31 page)

As expected, the parking lot was empty save
for George’s Lincoln in its usual spot. I had half expected to beat
him here, but realized that I should have known better. My
dedication to the bank paled in comparison with his. As much as
Eric joked about the bank closing its doors because I took the day
off, I believed it might be true in George’s case. A creature of
habit, I pulled into my own favorite spot and shut off the
engine.

Even though it hadn’t snowed, the wind was
still bitter cold. I wrapped my scarf tighter around my neck and
mocked myself for the decision to wear a skirt. It had seemed like
a good idea at the time, and with parking in the garage at home I
hadn’t given any thought to the blustery conditions. By the time I
reached the door, I resembled a Lauren sized popsicle. Hopefully
the temperature would raise a few degrees by the time I was ready
to leave.

Instrumental Christmas music greeted me as I
entered. The volume was turned up a few notches louder than normal.
I wondered if it would stay that way all day or get switched to a
lower volume once the masses appeared. In any case, it meant that
George was undoubtedly a Christmas person. I smiled to myself at
the thought and caught myself humming a few bars horribly off-key.
What I lacked in talent I made up for with spirit.

I rounded the corner to my office, squinting
as I approached. Funny, I hadn’t remembered closing the door when I
left last night. In fact, it wasn’t ever part of my routine.
However, the door was most certainly closed when I reached it.
Maybe the cleaning crew had gotten new instructions or something. I
placed my hand hesitantly on the doorknob and turned. I must have
been watching too many horror movies in my down time. It wasn’t as
though a dead body was going to jump out at me or anything.

I shook my head and flicked on the light
switch. Then I froze in place at the threshold. Someone had most
definitely been in my office after my departure. I didn’t have to
venture a guess to determine who that was. Blake’s presence
radiated from the walls. While I had been decorating her house, she
had been slaving away at my place of employment.

The old standard issue office furniture was
gone, replaced with pieces that were decidedly more modern. New
artwork had been mounted, adding color to the otherwise drab walls.
I was half surprised that she hadn’t managed to sneak in a couple
cans of paint to spruce things up. I imagined if she had she would
have been handily turned down. Banks were funny about that kind of
thing.

I strode over to my new desk to find a set of
keys placed atop an unnecessary greeting card. As I suspected, the
keys belonged to the top two drawers. I unlocked them to find all
of my things had been neatly transferred over and organized just
so. If she didn’t know me, no one did. I shut the drawer of pens
and pencils and noticed something else out of the corner of my eye.
A picture frame stood guard over my workstation. I reached for it
to pull it closer. Inside was a candid shot of Blake, Matthew and
me taken on Thanksgiving.

I remembered Gracie carrying around her
camera at Matthew’s house that day, but for the life of me didn’t
recall that picture being snapped. The three of us were standing
around his concrete island, deep in an animated conversation. The
way our eyes sparkled, the expressions on our faces would lead
anyone to believe that we had known each other for years, not
weeks. It surprised me to have a visual of how at home I felt in my
new surroundings. To realize that Gracie had been in on this in at
least a small role made it all the more special.

I had just opened Blake’s card, a traditional
Christmas greeting with the words “Please don’t be mad! Love,
Blake” scrawled across it when I noticed George hovering in the
doorway. Our eyes met and he walked the rest of the way in the
room, perching on one of the undoubtedly designer chairs across
from me. Any doubt that possibly existed in regards to his being an
accomplice to the redecoration efforts were effectively erased by
the smirk across his otherwise distinguished face.

“Merry Christmas, Lauren,” he grinned.

I set the card down on the desktop and
responded with my own smile. “Merry Christmas, George. I guess it’s
no longer a secret why you were so eager for me to get out of here
last night.”

“The cat is pretty much out of the bag, yes.
Let’s just say that your roommate is both talented and persuasive.
I think she felt a little bad about asking me to stay late, but it
really was no bother. I had plenty to do here, and she worked
faster than I thought was possible. Of course, her brother did come
a little bit later to help, too.”

“That explains it,” I said more to myself
than to him. When George looked at me quizzically, I felt the need
to elaborate. “Matthew met me after work and I got about an hour of
labor out of him before he left to help her. The funny thing is, I
decorated our house for Christmas.”

“Ironic, huh? They seem like good people. But
don’t think she left without giving a sales pitch. She made sure to
give me her business card just in case the bank is interested in
some redecorating in general.”

I smiled. The few times she had met me for
lunch she had always commented on how bleak and uninspired our
surroundings were here. My retort was usually along the lines of
bankers not being creative types. She did have a point though. The
changes she had made in my office transformed it entirely. The
space around me felt warm and inviting, no longer cold and
imposing.

“Think we’ll take her up on it?” I asked,
referring to the bank as a whole.

George responded with a shrug. “Not really my
call. I’m sure her services don’t come cheap.”

“I don’t know. Everything she does for me is
free. Perhaps I could negotiate a family discount.”

He chuckled. “I won’t hold my breath. So, big
plans for the holiday?”

I shrugged. “I guess you could call it that.
Blake and Matthew and I are having our gift exchange this
afternoon. Then tomorrow it’s down to Indy with my dad and
boyfriend. Depending on how things go, I might head down there
tonight. I’m not sure yet.”

“Well, whatever happens, make sure you enjoy
yourself. You deserve it.”

“Thanks. What about you?”

“The kids and grandkids will be over tonight.
Tomorrow will be a nice, quiet day with just me and the wife.”

“Sounds good. You have fun yourself.”

“We always do.”

He rose from the chair and placed his hand on
the edge of my desk. “Don’t work too hard today.”

I looked up at him with a twinkle in my eye.
“I would tell you that I never do, but something seems wrong about
saying that to your boss. So instead, I’ll just let that go.”

“And I would know that you were lying,
anyway,” he retorted.

I watched as he retreated back to his own
substantially less decorated office. Settling back in my soft
leather chair, I took in my surroundings once more just to make
sure I wasn’t dreaming. With a space like this, it was easy to
pretend that I had reached the big time. So what if this wasn’t a
corner office with a view of the downtown skyline like our
colleagues at the main office had? My little portion of the banking
world now more resembled that of high level executive than middle
management. If I squeezed my eyes shut hard enough, I could pretend
anyway.

I dug my cell out of my purse and texted
Blake a simple “Love it!” before stashing it away. It was just now
nearing eight in the morning, and the rest of my coworkers were
filing in. I doubted that Blake would have returned home yet, so
her surprise hadn’t yet been revealed. I would thank her in person
later, but something this monumental just couldn’t be ignored for a
few hours. I had to give her at least a taste of gratification now.
I realized that a little piece of her went into everything she
created, and doing this for me was almost as much of a gift to
herself.

Despite her mad talent, she had been so
brainwashed by her parents’ abandonment that deep down she didn’t
believe her own hype. Sure she could turn on the charm like George
had mentioned earlier, but I knew better. She had a hard time
accepting other people’s praise of her work. That, coupled with her
tendency towards perfectionism led her to think that nothing was
ever good enough, that the job was never truly finished. I supposed
that everyone who was creative by nature shared a little bit of
that sentiment, but for her the feeling was multiplied tenfold.

As George had alluded to earlier, a bare
minimum amount of work was accomplished during the four hours we
were there. Several employees had taken vacation time to extend
their holiday and the rest of us that were there had only shown up
physically. The festive spirit flowed throughout the building and
no one seemed to mind the lack of production. Compared to the
branch setting, where the tellers were typically slammed with
customers on a day like this, the atmosphere here was decidedly
more laid back. Corporate had supplied us with quite a spread of
donuts, fruit, bagels and coffee cake. George made the rounds with
our Christmas bonus checks. Tucked into the envelopes along with
the checks were scratch-off lottery tickets. The entire office went
silent as everyone pulled out coins and set to work seeing if they
had a winner. Occasional cheers would ring out as people scratched
off prizes. I was not one of them.

Unlike the day after Thanksgiving, I kept my
office door open. As word of Blake’s gift spread, a steady stream
of people came through to inspect the goods. Ever the dutiful
roommate, I supplied some of the most impressed with Blake’s
business cards, which I had found handily stored in my top drawer.
I guessed I owed her the free marketing. She really had done an
awesome job. I had told some people about her already and the
awesome bedroom that she had created for me, but it wasn’t like I
felt comfortable inviting them to our house to show it off. Here
her talents were on display for everyone to see.

For perhaps the first time since I had
transferred here, I really felt like part of the team. The joyful
atmosphere had permeated my mental wall and broken down my guard. I
had always felt like I deserved the promotion, had never doubted my
ability to do the job, but had felt like I had so much to prove.
With my desire to be taken seriously, I had shut off my own
personality. Today I was smiling and laughing and genuinely having
a good time.

Out of the corner of my eye I had noticed
George watching me closely as I flitted from group to group,
commenting appropriately during some exchanges, merely listening in
to others. I saw him nod approvingly in my direction at one point
and it filled me with a surge of pride. Never had I felt such a
sense of belonging. Any doubt that had been placed in my mind by
Eric had been erased.

I was good at this. Just like Eric was good
at what he did. For him to expect me to give up this part of me to
be with him was like me asking him to give up his own career for
me. It just wasn’t fair to either one of us. No, to make this
relationship work we had to meet in the middle. In and of itself,
the realization was simple. The hard part would be figuring out
just how to do that.

Back in my car after the workday ended, I
cranked the heater on full blast and set to work debating on how to
make that happen. The temperature hadn’t warmed up as much as I’d
hoped and my legs were frozen. For starters, I resolved to drive
down to Indy tonight like Eric had wanted me to. The idea had
already been bouncing around in my head since he had suggested it,
and I felt like it was my duty as his girlfriend to accept the
invitation.

As much as I complained about him not making
enough honest efforts to see me, I would be a hypocrite if I wasted
this opportunity. Truth be told, I saw Blake and Matthew all of the
time. Even if I made it to Eric’s condo late in the evening, I
could still wake up in the morning next to him. We would have some
alone time prior to heading over to my father’s house for the
official holiday visit. I owed him that much. I already had to
hurry back home so that I could work the next day; it would be
unfair to drive down all that way and not even have a chance to
discuss us. It wasn’t quite the conversation I wanted to have in
front of my dad, and we hadn’t really spoken about it since our
huge fight at Matthew’s house.

That settled, a new wave of anxiety pitted
itself in my stomach as I drove home. I hadn’t heard from Blake
yet. I prayed that she wasn’t angry with me for conducting my own
ambush redecoration. Or worse yet, I hoped that she hadn’t holed
herself up in her bedroom, curled up in the fetal position on her
circular mattress. No news was good news, right?

And on to Matthew and the giant box that
contained the gift he told me I’d love. Even though Blake had come
up with a plan to explain it away should Eric inquire, I was still
worried sick about it. If it was fantastic like advertised would my
gift to him be sufficient? And what would that imply if he had
gotten me the perfect gift?

I decided that things would be a lot easier
if his gift to me sucked. I would accept it graciously and tuck it
away in the deep recesses of my closet, never to be seen again.
Guys had a false sense of bravado about these kinds of things
anyway. In reality he probably had gotten me the scented candle or
bottle of lotion I expected and was playing it up like it was the
best thing ever. Nothing to stress out over. We had known each
other for a couple months, which was hardly any length of time at
all.

Matthew’s car was already in the driveway
like I expected it to be, parked as usual on Blake’s side. I pulled
my car into the garage and mentally prepared myself for whatever
was to come. Depressed roommates, flying Christmas ornaments, white
elephant gifts, I could deal with it all. I placed my hand on the
doorknob that led to the kitchen and took a deep breath, waiting
for the chaos to ensue.