Ellie
Every morning for the past three years I wake up and do the same three things. I get out of bed with the sole purpose of making coffee, feed my darling demon cat before he attacks my feet, and then as I take my first sip of coffee - I contemplate why I don’t just quit the terrible excuse that I currently call my job. Mack & Associates Accounting was supposed to be a temporary job while I stayed with my mother after my father passed away. Mom had always dealt with depression but my dad was her light and kept her from falling too far into it. Three years ago this week my father was killed by a drunk driver. The first year was an extremely dark time for my mom. I moved home to be with her after three weeks of her not leaving her house and hardly eating at all. Soon after I got here, I got her enrolled into a local therapy program. Year two she was doing much better but I didn’t want to get my hopes up that I would ever be able to leave Mom alone again. Now here we are at the end of year three . Mom has still never reverted to her unhealthy hermit ways, which means I have just grown comfortable in my current pathetic situation. Sigh.
“Ellie! Can you come down for a minute?”
“Coming!”
I carefully maneuver down the stairs from my garage apartment trying not to spill my coffee. I come into the main house’s kitchen and see my mom sitting at the table, hands clasped in her lap looking at me expectantly. Great. That is her we need to talk stance. I fain nonchalance and take a seat beside her.
“Hey mom! How are you feeling this morning?”
“Oh stop that! I may be in my fifties but you and I both know there is no reason for you to be checking up on me every moment of the day. That is exactly why I called you down to talk.”
“Mom you know I don’t mean it like you can’t take care of yourself. I am just curious and I love you.” I wink at her as she rolls her eyes. We have had this conversation more than once during this time we have lived together.
“Ellie Ryan. I am serious. It’s been just almost three years since your father passed. It still hurts but you know that I am in a much better mental state now than I ever have been. With that being said I have decided that it is time you move out of here and start living YOUR life.”
Oh yay. My fifty-six year old mother was telling me I don’t have a life. Which I mean, she is right… but I won’t be admitting that anytime soon.
“Mom, I have a life! I was just out with Hope yesterday and I have thought about attending some local open houses. Maybe I will see if there are any this weekend.”
“You and Hope went to the bookstore. Don’t try to fool me into thinking you did anything but sniff books and compare authors.”
And now she was making fun of my favorite pastime. Got to love the bluntness of this woman.
“I do think it would be good for you to attend some local open houses. Maybe it will help you get an idea of what you actually want.”
I stand to make my way out of the kitchen and this conversation. “Mhmmm..okay well I have to get dressed for work -
“That’s another thing! I know you think your uncle only gave you that job because of dad passing.”
I turn to look at her with a deadpan look.
“Mom, he did. The position of Secretary’s Assistant did not exist until I was hired.”
She glances away. “Anyway… I just think if you showed some interest in the actual firm he may move you to a position you would actually enjoy!” Her cheesy over exaggerated smile shows she really is trying to help me.
Mom knows that I have no interest, at all, in accounting. This job was just a way to make ends meet while finishing my English degree and taking care of her. Even though she knows this - she swears I need more in my life than just books. Her words, not mine. No book lover would ever agree to that line of thinking.
“Yeah mom, maybe.” I call over my shoulder as I head back up to my space.
Looking in my closet I glance over my sensible ‘secretary assistant’ wardrobe I have acquired since taking the position, then turn and admire the rest of my clothes. Although I am a quirky, book lover - I used to dress to flatter my hourglass figure. I scoff at my clothes and roll my eyes to the ceiling. Mom’s words keep replaying in my head about me living my own life. Groaning, I grab a gray sheath dress and slip it over my totally not drab lingerie. See, I have a little fun. I head to the bathroom and start taming my head full of crazy brown waves. Once I am done, I look at myself in the mirror and cringe at the dress that resembles a potato sack. It is so “old lady secretary”. This is ridiculous. I am going to be quitting soon, “living life” and all, why keep up with this persona that isn’t me? Ripping off the dress I strut to my closet again, determined to find a little bit of the old me. Decisions decisions… aw crap and not a lot of time! I throw on one of my trusted professional yet much more flattering outfits. It’s a little more snug in the hips- thank you self pity couch sessions with the ice cream, but still tasteful. Slipping into a pair of heels and smearing on some lipgloss and mascara, I run out the door. Thank God for a nice complexion!
Driving through the city I couldn’t help but think back to how my life was before I moved back to (City Name). I have always been the nerdy-quiet type but I did have fashion sense, a social life and what is SO lacking from my current life, a love life. During the first years of college, my best friend Sara frequently pulled me away from my books so we could go out dancing, clubbing, or wherever the latest hottest place to be was. I enjoy the social scene when I am there, it’s just never my idea to go. I am perfectly content with my books and coffee at home. I guess once I moved home and away from Sara it just never crossed my mind that I didn’t have that person pulling me out into the real world without her. Now I have finished my degree in English, I do not use it at all in my extremely mundane job, and I never leave my mother’s house. Huh.I really don’t have a life.
I pull into the parking garage and waste another ten minutes trying to find a parking spot. Crap crap crap. Figures the day that I decide to bring back a little bit of the “fun Ellie”, I also get to make my first ever late-to-work grand entrance. I am rushing into the elevator when my phone starts singing the chorus to David Guetta’s Sexy Bitch. Ugh, Sara! She changes her ringtone back to that song every chance she gets! I’m frantically searching in my purse to find the obnoxious noise when I hear a snort come from the other side of the elevator. Immediately I look up and come face to face with a man and freeze. How the heck did I not realize there was another person in the elevator when I got on? Self defense 101 star student here and apparently oblivious to all my surroundings. My phone finally stops ringing and now I am just awkwardly staring at this man. God, he is beautiful! He is wearing a suit that you can tell was made for him. Dark eyes framed in thick lashes, one day old stubble coating a perfect jawline, and a flirty little smirk that is sure to make every woman he comes into contact with blush furiously. Which is now what I am doing as I realize he is talking to me and I haven’t heard a word he said because I have been too busy drooling over this six foot tall greek god.
“Umm.. what?” Smooth Ellie. Real smooth.
He chuckles and gestures to the elevator numbers. “I said, what floor does the sexy bitch need to go to?”
Oh my gosh he did not just say that. If possible, I blush even harder. “Oh. Oh! My best friend changes my ringtone all the time. I didn’t put it as that. Although I think she is referring to herself as the sexy bitch, not me, but who is to know with Sara. I feel like we are both sexy but definitely more her. I am rambling. Floor six please.” I look away hastily. If the ground could just open and swallow me whole right this second that would be great.
He chuckles again but pushes the floor six button and I see that the floor seven button is also lit up. Awesome more time to embarrass myself even more.
“Floor six...that’s Mack’s.” He pauses and runs his eyes from my hair to my shoes and back up again. “You an accountant?”
Lord, I must resemble a tomato right now. “Umm, no. It is just a temp job. Mack is my uncle.” I manage to squeak out.
He seems to contemplate that for a minute and nods to acknowledge he understands. Which I highly doubt he does because he doesn’t know me or the situation at all, but I am not unaware of my lack of conversation skills when I am near this man so I will not be correcting him. The elevator stops at the sixth floor and I start for the doors.
“She can’t be.” He mutters.
I pause and glance over my shoulder as the doors open and I walk out. “What?”
As the doors start to close he says, “Not possible that your friend is sexier than you.”
The doors close and I stand there for my grand LATE entrance bug eyed, mouth wide open, and blushing like crazy. After giving myself a mental slap and deciding doing the walk of shame to my desk is the next logical step, I start to hurry forward.
“Good morning! Welco-” Hope the front receptionist and one of my close friends, stops mid sentence. “Ellie?”
Could she be any louder? “Morning Hope!” I try to sound cheery and confident but elevator-guy left me even more flustered than I already was walking in with my statement of a wardrobe today.
“Dang girl! Where have you been hiding that body? I mean -”
I cut her off by whisper-yelling her name and cutting my eyes to the rest of the floor where everyone is staring at us with wide eyes. Awesome. I love Hope dearly but subtlety is not her strong suit. She realizes what she did and gives me a sheepish smile. I turn and walk confidently to my desk without meeting anyone’s eyes and sink down into my chair. Hiding in my cubicle all day seems to be what is on the agenda today.
“Good morning Ellie. I need these digitized and then filed physically. Robert also has some calendar discrepancies he wanted to go over with you before lunch. Once you are finished with that I will need you to run a few errands for me.” Betsy, Robert’s secretary, spouts out my daily duties to me. My mind is still completely reeling but I manage a slight smile and nod my head as I take the files from her hands.
“Also, you are late.” She just blatantly states then turns around and walks off. You know the stereotypical older lady secretary that hates everyone? That is Betsy. I sigh heavily as I turn around to my computer to get started but only one thought is in my head now.
Who was that guy? And why did I lose my ability to breathe much less think around him?
