Company Ink by E.L. Lewis

t w e n t y – t h r e e

"Cassie, will you please stop groaning?" Monique pleads, peering over her computer. "I need to finish typing this email and your... noises are so distracting! Just give me one minute! One!"

I flail around the couch and groan even louder. "I can't help it! My head feels like it's exploding. If I don't vocalize my pain, I'll die! Do you want me to die, Monique?" I had to call in sick to work today due to my impending death.

Monique drops her head on her computer in defeat. "I forgot how annoying you get when you're sick."

"Ah! So rude!" I cry, opening up my precious bottle of NyQuil and chugging it. "I feel like I have the world's worst hangover right now. Some compassion would be nice!"

Monique tilts her head and laughs. "Sweetie, you just drank almost a third of the bottle! You're going to get all loopy! That bottle's for nighttime."

I glare at my so-called best friend. "I'd rather be loopy than suffer at the hands of this damn cold!" I prop myself up, pulling my fuzzy blanket up to my chin. "If I'm sick then I can't go out tomorrow for the Fourth of July which means no fireworks!"

Monique stands up from the table and walks over to the couch. "Maybe you can see them from the balcony?" she suggests sweetly, tucking the blanket around my feet.

My face contorts into a deep frown. "No, that stupid office building is blocking the way," I huff. "God, I hate Seattle! I hate rain! I hate towing companies! I hate Luther! And I hate you for being all healthy and shit. I'm so tempted to cough on you right now."

Monique laughs, moving from the couch to the armchair. "As much as I'd love to take a sick day, I literally can't afford it. Matt's mother is insisting that we get orchids for the centerpieces. Do you know how much those flowers cost? Too much!"

"Can't you just buy fake flowers? They're probably cheaper and you can use them as decor at your new house."

New house. Everything is becoming more real right now. In a few weeks, Mon-Mon will be gone-gone. And I'll be here, still sick, because this is apparently my life now—Kleenex, Reality TV, and a hefty dose of self-loathing. Okay, well, maybe that's a tad dramatic, I've only been sick for under 24 hours, but it feels like a lifetime!

"Huh, that's a good idea." Monique purses her lips and nods. "Let's hope Ekene will go for it. Matt's mom is a bit scary, to be honest."

"Scarier than your mom?" I ask, sniffling.

Monique blows a raspberry. "My mom's a saint compared to his!" She sighs, looking at her watch. "Alright, my sick little one, I have to go to work now but I'll put the kettle on for you, okay? Drink that Throat Coat tea I bought last night it should help."

"Go, go, enjoy your freedom," I whine, groaning and burying my face into the pillow.

It's only 9 am. I shouldn't even be awake right now. Damn internal clock! At least I have The Bachelor on my PVR to keep me entertained. Just as the rose ceremony starts, my phone pings. I pat my surroundings looking for the torture device. Why is it so loud?!

Adrian: Morning, Cassie. Just checking in. How are you feeling?

I guess Nadine sent him an email saying I'll be off for the day.

Cassie: I feel like I'm dying a slow and excruciating death

Adrian: From the sniffles?

Did he just say sniffles? Or is my NyQuil kicking in?

Cassie: Very funny MR. CAV. You and my roommate should really start an Anti-Sympathy club.

Adrian: Oh, don't be like that, I was just joking. I'm sorry you're not feeling well. Is there anything I can do?

Cassie: Build me a time machine so that I can go back to yesterday and not park in the drop off zone

Adrian: I would if I could, Cariño, but my flux capacitor is on backorder

I grin at my screen.

Cassie: OMG... Is that a Back to the Future reference? I'm dying (from laughter, thought I'd clarify)

Adrian: This stays between us. I don't need the whole office knowing that I'm a closeted sci-fi fan

Cassie: My lips are sealed. I'm learning so much about you. What else is hiding under that stoic exterior? Are you secretly a Potterhead too? It's leviosA not levioSAR!

Adrian: ... I regret making that joke now

Cassie: Stooop, it's endearing. Big bad lawyer man is an 80s cult movie fan. Who would've thought?

Adrian: Big bad lawyer man? Is that my nickname?

Cassie: It is now!

Adrian: Good to know, maybe I'll add it to my email signature

Cassie: LOL can you please?

Adrian: Maybe just for you

Cassie: I'm honored

Adrian: It's nice to see that your sense of humor hasn't suffered due to your...dying

My eyes dart around the living room. I do feel much...happier now.

Cassie: I think the NyQuil's kicking in

Adrian: Of course, you took NyQuil at 9 am, why does that not shock me? Is it non drowsy?

Cassie: It's definitely drowsy

Adrian: Good God...ok, I have a meeting now but let me know if you need anything. I'll see you at work later this week?

Cassie: Either that or at my funeral

Adrian: so dramatic... Happy Fourth, Cassie. Feel better

Cassie: Thanks Adrian, take some videos of the fireworks for me :(

Adrian: I will. Take care

Cassie: Byeee

Unable to stop smiling, I drop my phone down on the floor and go back to watching trashy TV. Back to the Future, eh? I'm shooketh.

***

Evidently, NyQuil on an empty stomach was not a good idea. By 11:30 am, I felt as though I was flying, which was surprisingly a pretty good time, but eating seemed like the responsible thing to do. That being said, UberEats should be here any minute now with my Pho. I'm sure all that salt isn't good for me but screw it, I'm ill, I'll eat whatever I damn well please.

My phone rings, Intercom displayed on the screen. "Come on up, apartment 26C," I say quickly and then sluggishly roll off the couch, cocooning myself in the blanket. Ideally, I'll wake up tomorrow as a beautiful, pretty butterfly.

Shit.

I'm still flying.

There's a knock at my front door, I wobble towards it, gripping my blanket so it doesn't fall. I'm a walking burrito!

"Hello, my savior!" I exclaim, flinging the door open. My smile fades into a look of horror, my eyes going round, almost popping out of their sockets. I immediately slam the door. What the fuck is Blake doing here?! Oh my God, Oh my God! Is he here to yell at me some more? Maybe he didn't get a chance to finish his scolding yesterday, I never did see him after I dropped the keys off with Tilly at the front desk.

"Cassie?" he calls out from the hallway. "Is everything alright?"

I lean against the door, my heart beating a little too fast. "You're not Pho Express!" I whimper.

He laughs. "Um...no, I'm not. Were you expecting someone else?"

Hell fucking yeah, I was! "I thought you were UberEats," I say, completely confused. "Why are you here...at my house...in the middle of the day?"

Blake clears his throat. "I'd much rather talk to you face-to-face."

Oh shit. "Are you here to fire me? Couldn't you have just sent an email? I mean, this seems a little harsh."

"Fire you? Why would I fire you?"

I turn around and place my right eye against the peephole. That is Blake, right? I'm not just tripping? "’Cause of your car..." I say slowly, trying to make out the look on his face. He doesn't look angry, if anything, he looks...amused.

Blake rubs his chin. "Can you please let me in, Cassandra?"

I fake a cough. "I'm sick, it's better if we talk like this."

"You're sick?" he asks, sounding almost relieved. "Oh... good."

Good? That's a weird thing to say. "Didn't Nadine email you? I took a sick day."

"Oh," Blake chuckles nervously. "I haven't had a chance to go through all my emails yet."

"Okay, well. Bye!" I exclaim, hoping he'll take the hint and leave.

Blake's silent for several beats. Why is this peephole so dirty?! I feel like I'm wearing swimming goggles! "I'd still like to talk to you about yesterday. Can you please let me in?"

"Can't this wait until Friday?" I spin around and survey my house. Tissues, dirty dishes, and chocolate wrappers are on every surface. "I wasn't expecting company."

"Please, Cassandra," he says in a low tone. "It's important."

Fuck! "Fine, just give me like forty-two seconds!"

"That seems very precise."

I laugh through my anxiety. "I'm a very precise person! Stay there!"

Unwrapping myself from the plush grey blanket, I run into the living room and start tidying up at lightning speed. Loonette the Clown taught me well! I pop into my bedroom and change into a hoodie that isn't covered with stains and crumbs, pull my hair into a top bun, and pat some concealer under my eye. My reflection looks like a burning pile of trash, but it'll have to work.

Twisting the handle, I open the door. "Blake," I say in a calm and even tone. "Please come in."

Blake quirks up an eyebrow, giving my outfit a quick scan. "I must say, I much preferred the blanket-dress."

My face pales. "As I said, I wasn't expecting company," I mutter, leading him into my poorly cleaned living room.

Blake stops in front of the armchair and takes a seat. "Nice apartment," he muses, looking around. "Very...feminine."

He must be commenting on my nine throw pillows. Fuck it, bitches love pillows. Sue us. 

"So... uh—why are you here?" I ask, sitting down on the couch, my hand landing on a chocolate wrapper. I shove it into the cushion. Hopefully, I remember to throw it away later. "How did you know where I lived?"

"I have everyone's addresses on file," he says matter-of-factly.

"Oh..." I nod my head. "Is this something you do? Make...house calls?"

"No, Cassie, it's not," Blake chuckles. "But I thought I'd make an exception just this once."

"I see. So... what's up?"

Blake runs a hand through his hair, taking a breath. "Well, when you didn't come in today, I thought it had something to do with our conversation yesterday. I thought that maybe you were avoiding me or something."

Fair assessment seeing as he acted like a complete psycho. "Oh..."

"The thing is—" Blake's eyes scan my face. "I owe you an apology. I—I shouldn't have yelled at you."

"Okay," I say hesitantly, crossing my legs and covering my lap with the blanket.

"You came into my office just as I was getting off the phone with one of our clients. They told me they've decided to put a pause on a project that we've been working on for over six months, and I was angry. I—"

"You yelled at me because you were mad at them?" I ask slowly. "That doesn't seem very fair."

Blake sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You're right, it wasn't fair. I acted...very unprofessionally and for that I'm sorry."

He seems genuinely apologetic despite his stiff posture. "You came all the way here just to say you're sorry?"

"Yes, I suppose I did." Blake shifts in his seat, placing his forearms over his knees, his eyes sunken with guilt. "Please don't quit, Cassandra."

"Quit? I'm not going to quit," I say, taken aback by his plea. "Why would I quit?"

Blake frowns. "Because I yelled at you?"

I throw my head back and laugh. "Blake, I'm a pretty emotional person. If I quit every time someone yelled at me, I wouldn't have graduated college or worked at NVP for three years."

"So, you're not upset with me?"

"Oh, yeah, I'm totally upset with you. That was a dick move but at the same time, I did sort of mess up. Kind of balances out."

Blake tilts his head. "Dick move?"

I swallow, giggling nervously. "That was an unprofessional overreaction? Better?"

"I think dick move works in this situation," he laughs quietly… "And thank you for getting my car back. You should submit the receipt to finance, I'll make sure you're reimbursed."

"Oh...I—uh, I didn't pay for it."

"No? Then tell Kitty to submit it."

I cringe inwardly. "It was actually Mr. Cavallero who paid. He—uh drove me back to the impound lot."

Blake's eyes narrow. "Adrian...took you? During work hours?"

Damn, I shouldn't have mentioned it. "Yes?"

"I see," he hums, a sour expression on his face. "Well, I'll be sure to thank him." His tone really lacks any gratitude, the word thank could easily be replaced with kill.

"Sounds good," I murmur. What else can I say? My phone pings again. This better be UberEats. "Sorry, one second." I answer the call. "Come in," I say, pressing seven on my keypad. I look up at Blake. "My food."

"Right," he says, standing up. "Well, I should be going."

I nod, leading him to the front door. "Thanks for stopping by." I pause. "I plan on working a little bit later today, I just need to finalize some details for the gala next week. I'll send you an email."

Blake stops just outside the door. "Speaking of Client Appreciation Night. I was wondering—" He bites his lip just briefly. "Would you like to go together?"

I blink. "Together? Like a... date?"

Blake stiffens. "Like colleagues," he clarifies. "Unless you had other...plans."

Adrian momentarily pops into my head but disappears as fast as he came. If he wanted to ask me, he would've done so already. "Sure, why not." I squint my eyes. "You're dressing up, right?"

Blake sighs. "Yes, Cassandra. I'll be dressed up."

I beam. "Good! Can you get a walking cane?"

"A cane? Why do I need a cane?"

"Gatsby had a cane! You need a cane! It'll complete the whole look."

Blake rolls his eyes. "Fine, I'll go purchase a cane."

"Yay!" I clap my hands. "Now I'm excited."

Blake grins. "I'll see you at work when you're better?"

"I'll be there," I say, watching Blake disappear down the hallway.

I'm going to C.A.N. with Blake. This is going to be so much fun! Suddenly, my heart clenches. Oh God...but why do I feel like this is somehow wrong? Almost like I'm cheating on Adrian? That's ridiculous. We're not dating. I have no reason to feel shady. He didn't ask me. If anything, he has made it perfectly clear he does not want to date me. Like at all. But still.

Can a person be happy and sad at the same time? I shake my head, staring at the elevator.

No more NyQuil.