Because He Torments Me (7 page)

“I don’t think it’s the best use of resources,”
he said.

“I can do it,” I said.

“You can do what, Adriana?” Callum asked.

“I can choose the winners.
 
I can set up the
dinners,
I can take care of all the arrangements for the night.
  
I’ll make sure it’s all set.”
 
I gave him a friendly smile and made a note
on my pad, wanting him to know that I relished the idea of handpicking women
for him to spend the night with.

“Adriana, if Callum doesn’t want to do it, we
don’t have to,” Kiersten said hurriedly.

“No, it’s okay,”
Callum
said, his tongue licking his bottom lip again.
 
“If Adriana has a vision for this
particular project, then who am I to stop her?”

“Thank you, Mr. Wilder,” I said, and watched
the grip on his chair tighten even more.
 
“You won’t be displeased.”

The rest of the meeting passed without
incident, and before I knew it, we were gathering up our papers and Kiersten was
showing him out.

She walked him to the elevator, and once she
was back, she turned her wrath on me.

“What the hell was that?” she demanded.

“What the hell was what?”
 
I asked.

“You don’t just go and bring up a publicity
plan to an author without making sure it’s okay with me first,” she said.

“I’m sorry,” I said honestly, “I thought he
knew about it.”
 
I blushed, suddenly
realizing how stupid I’d been.
 
In my
effort to prove to Callum that I didn’t care about what he was doing or who he
was having dinner with, I’d hurt myself.
 

“Never mind,” Kiersten said.
 
She pulled off her glasses and rubbed
her eyes. Then she glanced at her watch.
 
“You might as well go home and get ready for the party.”
 
Her eyes ran up my outfit.
 
“It’s not black tie, but it’s more
formal than business casual.”

“What party?” I asked.

She sighed.
 
“The launch party.
 
For Aubrey Zane’s book?”

Oh.
 
Right.
 
She’d mentioned
something about a launch party, but she’d never told me I was expected to
attend or when it was.

“It starts at eight.
 
I’ll text you the address.”
 

I nodded.
 
“Okay.”

“Bring whoever you want.
 
We need to fill the room, and if we
don’t, there will be hell to pay.”

She wandered back to her office, mumbling to
herself about the guest list.

I stood there for a second, watching her go.

It was definitely official.

My first day of work had been a one hundred
percent disaster.

***

It was storming outside, and cabs passed by,
all of them occupied, their tires splashing through puddles and causing dirty
water to slosh up onto the curb.

The subway was packed, and the umbrella I’d
been so smug about remembering this morning had been left at the office.
 
So by the time I got to my apartment,
the beautiful clothes I’d been so careful with this morning had been reduced to
a sodden mess that clung to my body.

When I stepped inside, I’d never been so
thankful to be home in my life.

I felt exhausted, as if I’d had the longest day
ever.
 
Yet I hadn’t even learned
anything, and had spent my day addressing envelopes for fuck’s sake.
 
I glanced toward the living room
longingly, thinking about how nice it would be to take a shower, climb into my
pajamas and then watch
tv
or relax with a good book.

Instead I was expected to get dressed up and
attend some bullshit party.

From down the hall, I heard the sound of Nessa
laughing, and then a muffled male voice.

“Nessa?” I called, walking down the hall toward
the voices.
 
“Are you home?”

The door to the bathroom was open, and I could
see Nessa standing in there, a glass of wine in her hand.

Someone was under the sink – there were a
pair of male legs sticking out.

“Hey,” Nessa said when she saw me.
 
“The sink was clogged, so Isaac’s being
nice enough to fix it for us.”
 
She
sounded giddy and hyper, her cheeks flushed.
 
I couldn’t tell if it was from the wine
or from Isaac being here.

“Hi, Adriana,” Isaac called from under the
sink.

“Hey, Isaac,” I said.
 
“Thanks for fixing our sink.”

“No problem.”

“How was your first day at work?” Adriana
wanted to know.
 
She reached up and
wiped a smudge of mascara off my cheek, and I caught a glimpse of myself in the
mirror.
 
I groaned.
 
My hair was wet and hanging in lank
chunks around my shoulders, my eye makeup was running down my face, and my
mascara stuck to my lashes in clumps.

“It was a disaster,” I said.
 
“And I don’t even have time to tell you
about it, because I have to go back there.”

“To work?”

“Yes.
 
Well, to this launch party for Aubrey Zane’s new book.”

Nessa grabbed my arm.
 
“Aubrey Zane?
 
Aubrey Zane the pop star? I love her!”
 
She started humming the melody of Aubrey
Zane’s latest hit, and a second
later,
Isaac emerged
from under the sink and joined in with her.

“I didn’t know you like pop music, Isaac,”
Nessa said.

“Don’t tell anyone.”
 
He reached over and turned on the sink,
and the water came flowing out of the pipes and down the drain
effortlessly.
 
“Good as new,” he
said.
 
He held up a hair tie.
 
“This hair tie was your culprit.”

“Ah,” Nessa said.
 
“I’ll be more careful next time.”

Isaac tossed the hair tie into the trash, and
when he turned away, Nessa winked at me.
 
‘I did it on purpose’
she mouthed, and my eyes widened in
surprise.
 
Nessa has clogged her own
sink just to get Isaac over here?
 
I
wasn’t sure if that was diabolical or brilliant.
 

 
“Anyway,” Isaac said.
  
“My friend Garrett’s coming over in a few, we’re going to go out for a drink.
 
You guys in?”

I could tell from the look on Nessa’s face that
she wanted to very badly.
 
But I
couldn’t get out of my work commitment even if I wanted to.
 

“I’m so sorry,” I said.
 
“It sounds wonderful, but I really have
to go to the launch party.”

“Well, do you… I mean, are you allowed to bring
guests?” Nessa asked.

“Yes,” I said, before I could think better of
it.
 
I wasn’t sure if showing up to
the launch party with my roommate, my neighbor, and a guy I’d never met before
was a great idea.
 
Then again,
Kiersten said she was worried about filling the room. And after the day I’d
had, there was no way things could get any worse.

“It’s formal, though,” I said.
 
“Not black tie, but you have to dress
up.”

“I have a dress I’ve been dying to wear,” Nessa
said.
 
“Isaac?”

He shrugged.
 
“Sounds good to me.
 
What time?”

“It starts at eight,” I said.
 
“In Soho.”

“Meet us out front and we can share a cab?”
Nessa asked Isaac.

“Sounds good.
 
See you then.”

Isaac left and Nessa immediately began dancing
around the apartment, delighted at her luck.
 

I laughed and then headed for the shower.

I needed to have a good attitude about this, I
decided.
 
It was time for me to
forget about Callum Wilder, to forget about my bad day at work.
 
Every second was a chance for a new
beginning.

And this was going to be mine.

**

The Aubrey Zane book launch party was being
held at a club called UNICORN, which I could tell was a mistake from the moment
I saw it.

The club itself was trendy and upscale, and it
had almost a Japanese manga feel to it – it was done in bright shades of
blue, pink, and purple mixed with a touch of yellow, the couches were
upholstered in hot pink fur, the walls plastered with solid silver glitter
wallpaper.

The waitresses wore strapped horns on their
heads and tight white body suits with long tails hanging from the back, their
bodies painted in sparkly body glitter, swirling abstract tattoos of hearts and
stars painted on their cheeks.

The actual space was light and airy, the bar
lining the walls in a wrap around pattern.
 
The pink fur couches and high-topped tables dotted the open area, and
there were other tables, suspended off the ground a few feet by large
pulleys, that
you had to step up onto.
 
They swung lazily in the air, almost
like a hammock, giving the illusion that the people sitting there were busy and
important.

Music pounded through the club, pop music that
added to the whimsical feel of the place – MmBop by Hanson, Barbie Girl
by Aqua, remixes that played up the high voices and silly lyrics.

It was a great space.

But it was
all wrong
for Aubrey Zane’s party.

Aubrey’s book was supposed to be about her
journey through mental illness, it was supposed to present her to the world as
a tough chick
who
had been to hell and back.
 
It was supposed to show that she was
more than bubble gum and ice cream.

And yet this whole place went beyond bubble gum
and ice cream – it was more like My Little Pony on steroids.

“Wow,” Isaac said.
 
“This place is intense.”

“Very,” Nessa said.
 
She looked great, dressed in a fitted
black dress that cinched in at the waist and hugged her curves.
 
I was wearing one of the dresses Callum
sent over, a tight grey bandage dress, with matching grey stiletto heels.

“Do you guys want a drink?”
Garrett,
Isaac’s friend asked.
 
He was
a nice guy, new to the city just like me.
 
He’d kept me entertained on the ride to the club by giving a play-by-play
of the people walking by outside, making up stories for what they were up to.

“Sure,” I said.
 
“White wine for me.”

“Same,” Nessa said.

“I’ll go with you,” Isaac said, and the two
boys headed for the bar.
 

“Oh my God,” Nessa said, clutching my arm.
 
“Do you think I’m going to have sex with
him tonight?”

“Isaac?
 
I’m not sure.”
 
I was
scanning the club.
 
The party had
just started.
 
In fact, it didn’t
seem like Audrey was even here yet, but even I could tell the turnout wasn’t
that bad.
 
There were enough people
here already to be acceptable, and more were coming through the front doors all
the time.

I spotted Kiersten across the room, talking to a
good-looking man in a slim cut Italian suit.
 
She saw me and waved, raised her drink
and gave me a nod, then turned back to her companion.

I let out a sigh of relief, glad she’d seen me,
and happy she wasn’t coming over.
 
It made it clear that this party was just for show, that it was good I
was here, but that she wasn’t expecting me to work.

Garrett returned to where Nessa and I were
standing, and as he placed a glass of wine in my hand, a commotion began to
rise from outside, yelling and activity, the sound of flash bulbs going off,
the cry of reporters.
 
I turned and
there she was, walking through the double doors of the club.
  
Aubrey Zane.
 
She was so small in person, her long
blonde hair falling in tangles down her back.

She was wearing a zebra print minidress, her
lips painted bright red.
 
She was
rushed to the center table, the one that was pulled up off the main floor, away
from the crowd, where she settled in with her entourage.

“Wow,” Garrett said, shaking his head.
 
“That poor girl.
 
She has no privacy.”