Up & Out - Ariella Papa [10]
“Some coconut shrimp.”
I have the same conversation with everyone and because I am standing with Hackett, people come and bring us drinks. I want to go over and talk to Janice, John or Jen, but every time I finish talking to one person there is someone else to meet. Everyone says complimentary things to me about Esme. I smile and blush a lot.
Do you ever have the feeling like you don’t belong somewhere? Like no matter how nice people are being, they’re eventually going to find out that you are in way over your head? That’s what I kept feeling when people said how much they liked Esme and how happy I must be. The more I drank and ate the more I felt like a big faker. What the hell was I doing? Was Esme or I worth all this praise? I couldn’t help feeling that any minute it was all going to end.
I keep looking over my shoulder. I keep waiting for that person to come over and escort me out and say, “Rebecca Cole, you big faker, you don’t really think you’re the star of the show, do you?”
“Who are you looking for, Becky?” Hackett asks. “Why, here’s Ellie Egher all the way from Denver….”
By the end of the night, I think I have met and attempted to charm every affiliate in the entire country. Hackett finally ran off for a moment and I look around for my team but can’t find anyone. Then, I feel a hand on my shoulder. The “they” I’d been dreading has finally caught up with me. This is it. I am out.
I take a deep breath and turn around. I knew it all had to end eventually. What I see is the biggest, most beautiful woman I have ever seen.
“Hi. I’m Tabitha Milton,” she says. “I heard you were the girl to meet.”
2
Raspberry Swirl
“Hi,” I say, shaking her extended hand. She is balancing a plateful of cheese and bread in her other hand. She has a firm grip and that intimidates me. “Your name sounds familiar.”
“Yeah, I founded On the Verge magazine.”
“Oh, my goodness, hey. Thanks for the great article on Esme.”
“Congrats on the series.”
“Thanks. It’s a little overwhelming.”
“Oh, you should never admit to being overwhelmed. That’s how they get you. You should always be closing.”
“Isn’t that a sales term?”
“Yeah, but we’re all in sales one way or another.” A waiter comes over with another tray of champagne. Tabitha takes a glass, so I do, too.
“I guess you’re right.”
“Believe me, I am.”
“So what are you selling?”
“Well, I’m not actually here to sell. I came with a date. He’s the affiliate from L.A.” She gestures over to a big muscular guy standing in a crowd.
“Wow.”
“Yeah,” she says. “He’s Samoan. We met on the Internet. It’s just a fling.”
I’m not sure why she is telling me this, but I’m thinking that maybe I should look into one of those Internet dating services. It was getting harder to find decent single (straight) men in the city.
“I have a new venture in addition to the magazine. Underwear.”
“Underwear? Like skivvies?”
“Yeah. Would you wear my underwear?”
“Um.” She doesn’t wait for me to answer. She hands me her plate, sets her empty glass down on a passing tray and fishes a pair of lace panties out of her bag. They are packaged quite nicely.
“Tabitha’s Taboos,” I say, reading the ribbon.
“That’s right. I find it makes a great gift for your man, too. I encourage you to regift them. Thank you.” She grabs another glass of champagne off another tray. She moves fast, but gracefully.
“Well, thanks.”
“No problem.” She takes a big bite of bread and cheese. “Ugh. Fats and carbos. Nothing makes me feel more alive, except of course…”
I know what she means. I have to laugh. I am beginning to feel drunk and I’m not sure if it is all the champagne or her.
“It’s almost time for me to go.” She is still eyeing her man and it looks like he is looking at her, too. “It’s been very nice meeting you. Good luck with everything.”
“Thanks—and thanks for the underwear. Good luck with all your stuff, too.”
I say my goodbyes to Hackett and Jen. Janice and John have already left. I get a cab right away. It’s twelve-thirty. I keep thinking of Tabitha. She didn’t seem like many other women I meet. I envy her confidence.