Pinky Swear

Chapter Three

Chapter Three

Avery

Joshua Reynolds.

Did we actually just have a civil conversation? One where we weren’t trading insults back and forth? And was I imagining things, or did he totally check me out? No. Josh was so not checking me out. He hates me. Why did Lyss not tell me he’d be staying right next door to me?

I walk into my front door, shaking thoughts of him from my head as I’m met by a different man in my foyer.

“Walk of shame?” I accuse.

Clay chuckles. “No shame here,” he tells me as he pulls me close, pressing his lips to mine. “I was going to find you before I left. I’m meeting some guys from work at the gym, but I’ll call you later.”

“Okay,” I sigh, still feeling odd after my run-in with Alyssa’s annoying older brother.

“Bye, babe.” He closes the door behind him and I head to my bathroom and strip off my sweaty clothes. I step into the shower and grab my loofah, lathering it up with vanilla scented soap.

Does he know about that night? In the bathroom at that party?

No, he couldn’t.

I finish up, not dawdling for too long. I don’t have anything planned for today and I assume Lys is still sleeping. I dress in a pair of soft cotton gray shorts and a ribbed yellow crop top and head to the kitchen for breakfast. I opt for a water bottle and a bowl of Special K, not wanting to take too much time to fix anything else. I eat in silence, feeling restless. What is it that I’m wanting to do? Why am I itching to get out of this house?

I pick up my phone and dial Lyss. Its 9AM but it still goes straight to voicemail. I rake my damp hair into a messy bun and decide to head to the office. I need to get out of this house! The silence is driving me insane. I hop into the Armada my parents bought me after college graduation and turn the music up.

I pull up to the office fifteen minutes later with an iced coffee in my hand. I’m not exactly dressed for work, but no one should be in the office today. I unlock the door and use my badge to let myself into the Design Department. Ready to feel less anxious, I throw myself into work. I check my email and return a few of the more urgent messages. I check with vendors on appliance pricing, the cost of labor for installing marble flooring in Mrs. Dalton’s garage because “that’s what would look best” to which they inform me marble isn’t a good option for a garage, and I assure them that this is indeed what the client wanted. I’m about to start placing orders when the door to Gen’s office opens and I almost jump out of my skin.

She startles as well, gasping and clutching her chest. “Ava!” She screeches. “You about gave me a heart attack! How long have you been here?”

I check the clock. “A little over two hours. Have you been in there the whole time?”

“I’ve been here since eight. I never heard you come in.”

“I was just restless at home, so I thought I could get some work done before Monday.”

“Well, I am glad you’re here. I was going to call you, but this is a conversation better done in person.”

I hold my breath. Am I being fired?

“I won’t be here on Monday, I’m going to be leaving later this afternoon to go back to Seattle. I’ll be moving my mother-in-law in to my house. I’ll be hiring a nurse to assist with her but it’s going to be a big transition. I’d like to propose a new transition for you as well.”

“A transition?” I ask, nervous. Is she moving me to another department? Am I being demoted?

“Yes, to Design Coordinator.”

“Design Coordinator?” Did she just make this job up? I’m Design Assistant now. It doesn’t sound much different.

“When I’m unavailable, you’ll take over in my absence. You’ll still report to me, and keep me in the loop, but it will give you more decision making power. You’ll meet with clients when I’m unavailable and assist in achieving their design dream. We’ll hire a new Design Assistant to take your place—actually, that would be your second assignment. To post the job and interview eligible applicants.”

“Second? What would be the first?”

“The Halsey house. It’s estimated to cost 2.4 million dollars to build, and you’ll be point on the project. You won’t be on your own. I’ll still be a phone call away, and in the office two days a week, and you’ll be working directly with the new construction manager. You’ll do on-site visits and meet with Rebecca and Robert Halsey to consult on layout with the manager, and then with them separately to discuss flooring, carpeting, wall colors, etcetera. Does that sound like something you’d be interested in?”

I can’t help it. I just stare at her, shocked. She can’t be serious. Is this a promotion?

She notices my silence and continues. “Oh, and of course there would be a considerable raise. But to bolster your new salary, the design assistant position will now be part-time, $15 an hour, 30 hours a week.”

“A raise?” I repeat. “Is this for real?” I ask unprofessionally.

She smirks. “Yes. You’ve been my biggest asset since you’ve joined me, and if this is something you want, you’ve earned it.”

“Of course,” I say. “Of course, this is amazing. Thank you.”

She smiles at me. “Very well, then. The paperwork will be on your desk on Monday morning. I’ll leave you with a list of tasks.”

“Sounds great,” I say, astonished. This is not what I was expecting.

“I’ll be in touch, Ava,” she says before sashaying out of the office and down the hall.

I slump down into my office chair, suddenly feeling exhausted and pumped up at the same time. I log out of my computer and grab my keys and make a bee-line for Lys’s house. I park in my drive and make a dash for her front door. I don’t even knock—we never have—I just push through the front door.

“Lys!” I scream.

“Yeah, babe?” She calls, sounding worried. I probably do sound a little crazed. “What’s wrong? Was it Clay?! I’ll slit his throat.”

“I got a promotion!” I practically yell as I fly into the living room and plop onto the couch next to her.

“What?!” She screeches. “When?!”

“Just now at the office!” I lean back, sighing happily.

“What were you doing at the office on a Saturday?” She asks. “Never mind, you’re a workaholic. Dumb question. What’s the promotion? That’s so exciting!”

That’s one of the best things about Alyssa. She may be a little rough around the edges, but she’s always excited for her friends, even if it’s not something that necessarily interests her.

“Design Coordinator.”

She eyes me uncertainly. “No offense, babe, but that doesn’t sound all that different from assistant…”

“I know, but it is. When Gen is out, I’m in charge. I do consultations with clients, I’m interviewing for assistants!”

“So basically the same thing… with a little more authority and a raise.”

“Don’t be a buzzkill,” I scold. “It’s a big deal. I’m not just an assistant anymore. Obviously, I did a crap ton of work as an assistant, but I’m getting recognition for the work I do, Lys.”

She shakes her head. “Duh, obviously you are so right. It is a big deal, I am so proud of you!” She squeals, pulling me into a tight hug.

“Congratulations,” a new voice says, and my head whips around to the kitchen island behind us. Josh is perched on a barstool, his laptop open in front of him.

“Gah,” I gasp, startled.

“Yeah,” Lys drawls. “I kind of forgot to tell you that Josh is staying with me for a bit.” She looks at me sheepishly as if to say that she’s sorry.

“No, yeah, I know. I just forgot you were here,” I say to him. “But thank you.”

“Wait, you knew he was here?” She demands, and then looks between the two of us suspiciously. “How?”

“We ran into each other this morning on my run,” I explain.

“What she means is, I literally ran into her.”

“What?! With your truck?!” Her eyes bug out of her head.

“No! Get a grip, Alyssa. I went for a run. I wasn’t paying attention and I almost barreled her over at the end of the drive.”

She blushes. “That would make more sense.”

I chuckle. “Easy mistake, really,” I say, trying to make her feel better about her jump to dramatics.

“Is it really, though?” Josh teases her.

“Oh, shut up, Josh. It’s early, I haven’t had my coffee yet.”

“It’s one in the afternoon,” he deadpans.

“That’s early for Lys.”

“Seriously?” He asks, surprised.

One thing I’m fairly certain of is that Alyssa has never told her brother what she does for a living—which is phone s*x for a smut magazine and porn website. He’d probably kill her if he found out. She takes calls in her bedroom at night, and even sometimes during the day. She makes decent money, so I can’t say anything—she was able to afford the down payment for the townhome on her own, and is able to live a mostly stress free life where money is concerned. Now, however, I’m wondering how she’ll continue keeping this from him with him right down the hall from her… she sometimes tends to get loud.

At one point she tried to get me to join her in her career. She started this during college when her parents cut her off for partying too much. She’d made a couple hundred dollars in a week and begged me to try it too. I gave in and answered one of her calls, but I was terribly awkward.

It was not my calling.

“Might I remind you that I work nights,” she argues back with him defensively.

“Yeah, yeah. I forgot. What company do you work for again?” He asks innocently.

Lys pales.

“Its BizTech isn’t it?” I ask as I scroll through my phone as if there’s nothing out of the ordinary.

She breathes a sigh of relief. “Yes! BizTech. Thank you. Sometimes it just slips my mind.”

He looks between us with narrowed eyes. “Mhm. Sure. BizTech.”

“Why mhm-sure-BizTech?” I ask, as though I’m offended by his scrutiny. “It’s a real place. Google it. It’s off Jefferson near the Kline’s law firm.”

“I believe you,” he tells me, fighting a smirk.

Lys’s phone rings then and she jumps up off the couch. “It’s Mark. I’ll be right back,” she says as she excuses herself from the room.

As soon as she’s out of earshot Josh fixes me with a steely gaze. “Where does Lys really work?” He demands.

“I have no idea what you mean,” I say sweetly—probably too sweetly. “She works for BizTech. She answers calls.”

“Calls about what?” He probes.

“Why are you asking?” I demand, like he’s crazy for questioning his sister. Who is lying to him.

“Lys is a terrible liar when it comes to me. You… you’re better… but I still know you’re lying. Is it bad?” He asks nervously. “She’s not a hooker, right?”

“No!” I exclaim, laughing. “She’s not a hooker, she’s not a stripper, it’s not like that. She really is answering phone calls.”

“I believe you,” he says, bewildered. “Which just confuses me more because I know she’s hiding something.”

“Who’s hiding what?” Lys asks as she rejoins us. He just shakes his head at her, telling her it’s nothing. “Wanna grab a coffee?” She asks me. “I’m dying for caffeine.”

“Sure,” I tell her, even though I’ve already had one.

“Josh, you wanna come?” She asks.

He looks at me. “Nah, I’ll be fine.”

I bite my lip. “You’re more than welcome to join us.”

He tilts his head to the side, examining me. “Really?” He asks as though he thinks I’m full of crap.

“Really. I don’t mind.”

And the weirdest part of it all is, I really don’t mind.