Wednesday, Thursday and Friday were a blur of running around getting ready for the warehouse sale. I’m usually quite calm and collected for the most part, but when it’s crunch time everything changes. I turn into a bookend throwing psychopath. It’s best to stay out of my way. I’m proud to say that none of my employees were sacrificed leading up to the big sale. And I really commend BJ on stepping in whenever he could see that I was about to go into a rage and do anything he could to help me. The douchebag was actually a really hard worker.
When Saturday rolled around, we all arrived really early to prepare. I even brought donuts and coffee because I’m a great boss. The doors opened at 9:30 so we had to make sure everything was in place. At 10:00 the place was packed and I finally felt like I could breathe. I joined BJ and another ad teamer, Ryan, plus the social media intern, Amanda in a corner of the rented out warehouse watching the success go down.
BJ looped an arm around my neck. “Look at this place, boss lady. I’d say we did a pretty good job.”
I quickly wiggled out of his grip. No one gave that kid permission to touch me. Especially in a public setting. I have to admit though, he looked really hot in his non-work clothes – gray tee, chinos and Sperrys.
“I’m happy with the way it turned out,” I said, scanning the place.
“We should get drinks after this and celebrate,” BJ said.
“I’m in. After all that hard work we put in, I need a strong beer,” Ryan added.
Even if I wanted to go have drinks with these children (which I didn’t), our company has a strict non-fraternization policy that forbids me from hanging out with any subordinates outside of work. Which is cool with me.
“I’ll go,” Amanda said.
BJ looked at me and smirked. “Coming, Reese?”
“No,” I said, simply.
The sale wrapped up at around 4:30 and I stayed later to recap the day with Diana and clean (watch people clean). BJ stayed with me and we worked on putting leftover paperweights in boxes for a little while. At 5:30 we both decided to get going.
“Are you sure you don’t want to come to the bar? You look like you need a beer,” BJ said as we made our way outside.
“I’m sure. I have plans,” I replied. This wasn’t entirely true. I hadn’t heard from Eric at all since he’d fingered me into oblivion which was weird since it was the weekend. But Kendra
wanted us all to come over for wine but that wasn’t until later so I really had nothing to do.
“All right. I’m going to get hammered though. I hope you have a good night.”
“Are you even old enough to drink?” I couldn’t help asking.
BJ smirked. “I turned 21 last month. I’m perfectly legal, Reese.”
Twenty one seems like so long ago for me which just further proves that BJ is a child and I need to stay far away from him. I’m a grown up career lady now. I told BJ to have fun and we parted ways.
That night we all went to Kendra’s and she made chicken parm. Luckily John was out so we could be loud and get drunk off Cabernet without judgement. After all the wine was gone, Preston suggested we walk down the street to the bar and obviously we all obliged. Because it was Saturday night, everyone was super dressed up and the four of us had on shorts, denim, and graphic tees and my hair was in a super not-chic messy bun. Whatever.
I ended up sitting at the bar talking to this scruffy but cute engineer for the better part of an hour. He actually went to my rival university so we bantered back and forth about that for a bit before he started telling me all about his super interesting (boring) job. Honestly, everything he was saying was going right over my head but I was tipsy and able to ask vague questions that made it seem like I had an idea what he was talking about. He bought us Washington apple shots and then we got started talking about my job.
After my whole spiel about my rise to success, he said, “That’s awesome. My girlfriend works in marketing too.”
I almost choked. “Girlfriend?”
“Yeah. She’s right over there.” He gestured to a tall blonde girl sitting at a table with a bunch of other girls. She was wearing what looked like a knockoff Herve Leger dress, but she was actually really pretty. And she seemed completely unfazed by her boyfriend sitting at the bar with a girl in cutoff shorts and a Victoria’s Secret PINK t-shirt. Honestly, I didn’t even blame her. I didn’t look my best.
Needless to say, that was the end of my days as an engineer wife and I danced with Preston until we were all exhausted and went back to Kendra’s to crash.