Company Ink by E.L. Lewis

 

t w o

"Cassandra Michelle Carrington!" The fierceness in Monique's voice causes my entire body to tremble, a lone slice of cucumber slides down my cheek and onto my chest. "What are you doing?"

I twist my neck and squint. "Relaxing?" I say hesitantly, popping both cucumbers into my mouth. Ew, I think I just ate some face mask residue. My gaze shifts to the digital clock on the table. Damn, she came home early, it's only 7 pm. Her classes usually go late on Fridays. I hope she didn't come home just to yell at me. I knew I shouldn't have texted her with my news. I made sure to include a shit ton of emojis to soften the blow. Can't get mad at a smiley face.

"You just got fired and you're lying here in pajamas listening to Usher?" Monique shakes her head, her voluminous tight curls swaying with the motion. "You should be looking for a job, Cass!"

Wow, straight to it.

"First of all, I wasn't fired! I was laid off. There is a big difference." I sit up, dusting the chocolate chip cookie crumbs off of my shirt. "Secondly, I think that taking a few hours to unwind after such a stressful day is well within my rights!"

Our entire dining room table is covered in dirt from my attempt to revive poor Stella. I won't know for a week or so if my surgical skills were successful, but I'm hopeful that she'll make a full recovery.

"Cass, come on. You told me you'd look for a job as soon as you finished with your little DIY spa session, that was four hours ago. I'm not trying to be pushy or mean, but we have rent due in three weeks."

I roll my eyes. "I'll have you know that I did take a few minutes to look for a job earlier."

"Really? On what website?" Monique purses her full lips, her foot tapping repeatedly on our walnut hardwood floor.

I hope she doesn't scratch the wood with her shoes. We had to search high and low for a condo that had real hardwood, not that laminate garbage. Truthfully, Monique didn't care, but I figured if the interiors are designed with good quality material, so must the exterior. Living on the 26th floor in a region that's expecting a giant earthquake any day is terrifying. Even though rent is crazy high, I like knowing that this building is seismically sound.

"It wasn't like a traditional website, per se—" I hesitate, watching Monique's expression tighten. I'm sensing she might not appreciate my out-of-the-box thinking." I just sent an SOS into the Twittersphere."

"Cassie! How is tweeting going to help you?" Monique pinches the bridge of her nose, walking over to the kitchen island. She pours herself a glass of wine from the half empty bottle before sitting down on a bar chair.

My mother once told me that a good Chianti can fix anything. Mothers are never wrong. And personally, I'm feeling much better.

"I have over three thousand followers," I defend myself. "One of them is bound to see my tweet, DM me, and offer me a job."

That's how I got my job at NVP. I was in my final year of college and was desperate to find an internship. I ended up posting a Facebook status asking if people had any leads. One girl messaged me about New Vision Press, and I ended up getting the job. Once I finished my degree, they offered me a full-time position. I did have several other offers, including a couple in New York, but I chose to stay in Seattle with my best friend and my cousin, Vanessa.

"Cassie..." Monique closes her eyes, clearly exhausted. She must have had a long day at work. Her working hours aren't confined to teaching hours. Not only does she teach classes and mark homework, but she also conducts weekly check-ins with all her students and takes them on field trips around the city. "You need to go on a real job site and look for options. You can't just rely on pure luck!"

"It's not luck, Mon! It's networking. I have tons of professional contacts on my Twitter. Richard Brixton, the author, is even following me." I laugh. "He actually retweeted me last week. I posted this hilarious anecdote about—"

"Cass, stop! This isn't funny. Are you going to be able to pay your share next month or not?" Monique's tone is gentle but she's definitely getting annoyed with me.

"Yes, of course," I half lie. "I'll just have to return the pink Bird Scooters I bought last week." And maybe that adorable pair of Jimmy Choo’s. I hate returning shit at Nordstrom, they always make me feel guilty and I end up just buying more stuff. I swear their sales strategy implements elements of Sun Tzu's The Art of War. It's like they can smell my hesitation whenever I pull out a receipt.

"You bought yourself a Bird? Those cost like a thousand dollars!" Monique's judgmental tone stings me.

"I bought us Birds and they were on sale." I blame this purchase on the spies living in my phone. I was talking about electric scooters at work last week and before I knew it, ads kept popping up on my Facebook page. They just made the 'click here to purchase' button so big, I was truly helpless. "I was going to give it to you for your birthday next weekend."

I have this adorable scavenger hunt planned for her around the city. The Bird would have made getting around town much easier than walking or taking the dreadful bus.

Monique sighs, walking over to join me on our La-Z-Boy couch. She wraps her arms around my shoulder, pulling me affectionately towards her. "Sweetie, listen. I appreciate the gesture, I really do, but you need to wake up and smell the roses. You can't keep buying shit just because you want to."

"Why not?" I ask, my voice wavering. "What's the point of busting my ass every day at work if I can't use my income to enjoy life?"

"You're allowed to enjoy life, but you need to live within your means," Monique says, handing me her glass of wine.

"I do live within my means. I never miss any credit card payments, I've never paid my bills late, and I always have rent money," I retort, taking a sip of wine. "It's not like I knew I was going to get laid off. How could I see that coming? Management was just bragging how well we did last quarter. I'm not sure if the New Vision Press CEO made some poor investments or what, but I genuinely did not know the company was struggling."

"I get that, Cassie, I do. But you need to have some sort of contingency plan in case of emergencies. What are you going to do if you get sick?" Monique asks. Oh, no... I don't have health insurance now that I'm unemployed. This, sucks. I'm going to have to pay for massages out of pocket. "Do you have a savings account?" she adds softly.

I groan inwardly. I feel like I'm talking to my dad.

"Yes, I do have a savings account! It's just a little... naked right now." I opened an account last year to put money away to go to New Orleans with Monique to visit her grandparents. Our trip just so happened to coincide with Mardi Gras. We did save a lot of money on food that trip though; her nana made us Louisiana BBQ almost every night. However, I did end up making a lot of impulsive and alcohol induced purchases, but whatever, I was on vacation, a girl’s got to live. We returned to Seattle five pounds heavier and several hundred dollars poorer. "Mon, I love you and I get that you're concerned but you just gotta trust me. I'll get a job, I promise."

"Okay, fine. I trust you," Monique smiles but her honey brown eyes indicate she's still worried. "I guess in the worst-case scenario I could dip into my savings and cover you next month."

"No way! I would never ask you to do that. If I'm still short, I'll just borrow some money from my parents."

The idea of reaching out to my dad leaves a sour taste in my mouth. Even though my parents are relatively well-off, I don't want to be a twenty-four-year-old mooch. I'm sure they'd happily help me, but I'd rather not tell them I lost my job. My dad would lecture me about the importance of job stability and how I need to get my shit together. He'd probably completely sidestep the fact that I was the youngest Senior Coordinator at NVP and just focus on the fact that I'm now unemployed. He's always been career centric. Growing up with a workaholic dad wasn't easy. He would often trade in time with me for time in the office. He did manage to retire before fifty-five though, so I suppose it was a justifiable sacrifice on his front.

"Oh, Cass...what am I going to do with you?" Monique sighs. "Mon Dieu..."

"I'm sorry, Monique! Please don't worry." I hug my best friend, swaying her side to side. Her perfectly shaped furrowed brows send a knot of guilt into the pit of my stomach. The last thing I want to do is bring unnecessary stress into her life. "Let's just drop this topic for the time being, okay? Tell me about your day. Anything eventful happen? How'd Ryoko do on her test? You were worried she was struggling, right?"

Monique's demeanor lightens as she talks about her students and the latest conversational exercises she created for her class. She's wanted to be a teacher since we were teenagers. Monique helped me with my homework and projects all through high school. Even when I had trouble concentrating or concepts that seemed too difficult to grasp, she would be patient with me and always made sure I'd finish. Teaching English as a Second Language at a language school is a perfect fit for this caring angel.

It also helps that she's trilingual herself, she speaks French, Spanish and English. It's really fun having a best friend who can yell at you in three languages. She only uses Spanish when I really mess up, like the time I told her we were going on a sightseeing plane ride, but it ended up being bungee jumping. Yeah...she wasn't too thrilled with me that day, but man, was it fun.

As Monique is showing me pictures from the field trip, she took her students on to Pike Place Market, she gets a text notification. "Axel's asking if we're still going to Jux tonight?" Monique asks, reading the message. "Roxie's performing." She shimmies her shoulders.

"Oh my God, I completely forgot that was tonight!" I leap off the couch, my body vibrating with excitement. Axel's been pumping this day up for months. "There is no way we're missing her debut. Kai's been practicing for God knows how long. We're definitely going."

Monique types out a response on her phone and then tosses it on our antique coffee table. "Okay, we should start getting ready..." Monique bites her lip, eyeing me carefully.

"What?" I groan, rolling my head backward.

"Don't spend too much money tonight."

"You know I moved out of my parents' house to get away from the nagging," I joke. "Little did I know I was trading one mother for another."

Monique swats at my shoulder, grinning. "Hey, I am not being a mom right! I'm more like a cool aunt."

"Right, we'll go with that," I snort, patting my face. "Okay, I need to wash this mask off before it stains my face. I don't wanna look like Cheeto tonight."

Monique laughs, following me to the bathroom. "Alright my little Oompa Loompa, you have an hour to get ready.