“Hey Georgie.”
He thinks he’s a creative genius, and actually I haven’t laid eyes on a more boring clothing line in my entire career. Talk about change, I used to put together high end dress shops for Vera Wang and Monique Lhuillier. Now I get to merchandise overpriced denim and leather jackets that wouldn’t fit an average sized girl with a decent gym membership.
‘Give it a chance’, she’d told me. ‘They need somebody that they don’t have to babysit’.
If she weren’t my sister, I’d probably strangle her for talking me into taking this job when I get out of here tonight.
“Yes.” I yell down to him from the top of the ladder, trying to maintain my balance as I hold the banner straight and look at him at the same time.
“Did you, uh, ever send Stephanie for that lunch order?”
He’s got to be kidding. “I’ve been a little preoccupied. Can you tell me if this is straight, please? I need to move on to more important projects.”
He backs up and curls his finger over his top lip, surveying the job I’ve done carefully. “Up a little.” He motions to my right. “Just a touch though.”
I do it, and not really caring if my touch was good enough or not, I carefully climb down the ladder, letting out a relieved sigh as my feet touch the firm wooden flooring once again. “Did the dummies get here yet?” I don’t look at him as I slice open another box filled with perfectly folded plaid shirts. “I can’t even begin to start setting up statements until they get here.”
“Tomorrow.” He promises me with a small smirk. “They said the truck got a flat...some shit.”
I sigh heavily. “We don’t have time for this, Trace.” I walk briskly past him, going over in my mind what’s next on my never ending lists of tasks. “I have three dummies. I could probably start the window and put the decals on the glass.” I look around quickly. “Where the hell is Stephanie anyway?”
“Maybe Justin caught up with her and made her go on that lunch run.” He chuckles heartily and gives me a soft pat on the back. “Lighten up would you? We’re not even open yet. The real panic comes when the doors open and the press is up our asses.”
“Who cares about opening right now? Your clothing line is piled in boxes in the back. We can’t open anything until the dummies get here, and they were supposed to be here last week. Christ, I feel like I’m the only one that’s doing anything remotely productive, and you’re worried about lunch!”
“Don’t talk to me about being productive. I’ve been on the phone with fuckin Johan all morning. You interpret his funky accent over the phone, Georgie, and you can have my last case of Coors, because I have no clue what the guy was saying. I love him, and in person I can get him loud and clear but man...the phone is just not his friend. Come on.” He flashes me the smile he whips out when he wants me to do something I hate, and takes the box cutter out of my hand, throwing it someplace on the floor. “Let’s get some food, my treat. When we get back, I’ll help you with some of this manual labor crap.”
I cross my arms. “You never help with this crap, Trace.”
“Yeah, well, I have some spare time on my hands today.” He pulls on my hand. “Come on.”
It’s his clothing line. Hell, he should be happy to help set up his store, be proud of the fact that people are actually interested in wearing the boring ass clothes he designed. But he never seems to have the time. Contrary to popular belief, Trace Ayala really does have a lot on his agenda. Like...doing interviews with his best friend, who of course, is ultra famous and the major reason why William Rast is a reality in the first place. Justin Timberlake gets to travel the world frequently, and when his travels involve William Rast or really anything for that matter, Trace usually ends up going on the excursion, leaving me to answer the phone and sign documents that I have no business signing. He says he trusts me, and since I’ve only met Justin a grand total of four times (including today), I’m assuming he doesn’t care what I sign or what I do. It’s not really his concern I guess. Trace is my primary boss and if he had an issue, I’m sure all he would have to do is call Justin to tell him that I royally fucked up something.
“Georr-giee,” he sings, when I don’t react to him. “I can get us a table at that new place your sister said you wanted to try.” He raises an eyebrow up and down, and smiles brightly.
“Don’t kiss my ass, Trace. I’ve worked for you six months now, and you know I don’t buy into that anymore. I’m trying to open your store for you, and I have a week and a half to get it done. I wish you would just realize that time is limited. Sometimes you’re as bad as Justin is.”
“Aw, I didn’t think I was all that bad.”
My face turns a pale shade of white when I hear the familiar sound of Justin’s voice rip through my ears. It’s really horrible that I’m so terrified of him. I shouldn’t be because I know how much of a whiney brat he is. My sister is his personal assistant after all, and with all the garbage she’s fed me about Mr. Timberlake, I could probably start my own online gossip blog. But I couldn’t do that. Not yet anyway. He hasn’t pissed me off enough, even though I’m sure that moment isn’t too far away. “Oh, hi Justin.” I turn to him and smile, and can hear Trace snickering in the background.
Man is he going to get it later.
“Hey Georgeann.” He smiles the smile that sends millions of girls into multiple orgasms. “You and Trace having a good time?”
“A great one,” I tell him, the sarcasm in my voice more than apparent. “Did you steal my help?”
He looks over his shoulder. “Oh, Steph? I told her to take the rest of the day off. She seemed tired.”
If I could, if I knew his burly bodyguard standing in the background wouldn’t taser me to the ground, I’d slap him across his cocky face. “Excuse me?” I place my hands on my hips. “You’re kidding me right?”
He cocks his head to the side. “What’s the issue?”
I hate stupid celebrities who don’t know what the hell is going on. I wish he’d just stay away, because all he ever does when he comes around is get in the way and screw things up. The last time he came down here, all he did was talk Trace’s ear off, eventually convincing him to leave and go someplace else with him. I was ready to rip him apart that day too, because we’d been missing ten thousand dollars worth of denim, and I’d needed Trace’s help to track it down. “Do you even know.....”
“We’re going to lunch.” Trace nudges against me, causing me to stop talking and stare at him in disbelief. “Did you eat yet, J?”
“Eh, I’m not really hungry.”
“Well then we’re gonna go and come back. Why don’t I just stop by the house later? There’s really not that much to do around here anyway.”
“Don’t you have Katie tonight?”
Trace takes a second to ponder the idea of his daughter. He’s talks about her a lot and I know he really loves her, but he can barely tolerate her craziness for more than a couple of hours at a time. She’s five going on fifteen, with a terrible case of ADHD and her mother is a complete waste of life that he mistakenly slept with one night. Ah, the glory of being in the entertainment industry. “Shit I think you’re right, man.”
Justin laughs. “Way to be on top of your game.”
“You wanna babysit?” he asks, almost pleading. “I really need a mellow night.”
“Fuck no,” Justin shakes his head rapidly. “I mean if my mom was in town sure, but I can’t handle your kid. She’s a handful.”
“What about Dana? She’s reliable.”
“Somehow I doubt my sister is going to want to pull a double shift,” I inform them. “Trace, just go home. I’ll do what I can here and leave a little late. You have too much going on today.”
He glares at me. “You know Georgie, I really hate when you get like this.”
“Like what?,” I scoff. “I have a lot of shit to do.”
“I’m not too busy to run the business. I said I’d help you,” he reminds me. “Remember?”
“I don’t need your help,” I grunt. “I’ll get the work done faster myself. Granted, you let my associate take the rest of the day off but whatever...I’ll handle the situation.”
“Whoa-aa,” Justin steps in between us, as Trace and I somehow managed to get in each others faces. “Are you two having a moment or something? Do I need to get HR involved?”
He’s laughing like this is all a big joke. Like he has no idea what the fuck is going on right now. He doesn’t, I know this, and Trace knows this and I wish he would just tell Justin to get the hell out of here. If he plans on helping me that’s what he’s going to have to do, because I know for a fact Justin would never try to help out. He has the attention span of a three year old. In fact, Trace’s little girl could probably be more productive. “We don’t have HR, dumb-ass.” I shoot Justin a repulsed glare, and step away from the two of them, preparing myself to start setting up the window like I said I was going to.
I literally get half a decal stuck on the glass when I feel a hand on my shoulder, and I turn around, rolling my eyes when I find Trace standing before me again. “What are you waiting for? Just go.”
“You really shouldn’t talk to him like that,” he says, under his breath. “He doesn’t exactly know you all that well yet, and I don’t want to see you get fired when he gets pissed off over one of your random moods.”
I peer past him and see Justin lingering in the background. He’s fished one of the plaid shirts out of the box, and is studying it like he’s never seen the thing before. I feel a little sick and I realize that it’s because I’m starting to really, really dislike Justin Timberlake. “Did you tell him how behind we are?”
“Well no but...”
“Does he even know how much I’ve been killing myself to get this place open?”
He crosses his arms and rocks back on his heels. “He doesn’t worry about stuff like this. He doesn’t really have to.”
“Well maybe he should.” I throw down the items in my hands. “Maybe if he did, Stephanie would still be here and we’d be further ahead than we are now. Maybe the fucking dummies would be here Trace, because he could have gotten on the phone and told them they better be here.”
“Georgie, nobody had any control over that shipment,” he says softly. “They’ll be here tomorrow and we’ll be fine. But you gotta calm down, because your attitude is pissing Justin off. And if Justin is pissed off it comes down on me, and then....you know.”
Six fucking months working side by side with Trace hasn’t been the worst thing in the world. I’ve gotten to know him really well, and I guess he’s gotten to know me pretty well too. As much as I’d let him anyway. I’m not really good at opening up to people, I never have been. My sister has always been the outgoing, outspoken one and it’s probably why Justin pays her so much damn money to cater to his ass. Trace is sort of like me. He’s not really outspoken, he’s usually pretty quiet but when you get him going he’s as funny as any regular guy would be. You’d never know he was worth millions by looking at him. He’s has several tattoos, reminding us all of his love for the south. His wardrobe is literally composed of jeans, sneakers, tee shirts, and a couple of blazers and his scraggly hair is constantly covered up by some kind of hat. His idea of a good time is going out into the backwoods of Tennessee and shooting a poor defenseless animal. He’s told me that he wants to take me out shooting sometime, and I told him that it was barbaric. He has a cocky smile, that makes itself obvious when I say shit like that to him.
I know he likes me.
“He pissed me off.” I place my hands on my hips, refusing to give in, despite the fact that it could cost me my job. “You know, my sister might kiss his ass and cater to his every desire...but that’s not what I’m here for, Trace. You know that.”
“Yeah but he’s half of the line,” he says, seriously. “And a hundred percent of our marketing campaign, not to mention my best friend. Come on, just maybe...tell him no hard feelings? Just so he’ll get over it and we can go back to what we’re doing.”
I sigh heavily, and turn back around. I think to myself that maybe if I just avoid everything that’s going on right now, Trace will give up and leave me alone.
“Georgeann.”
He only calls me by my full name now, when he’s pissed. When we’d originally met, he used to call me that all the time. Actually, that’s what everybody calls me. One day while we were going through some portfolio’s he just decided to call me Georgie, and I looked at him like he was completely insane.
“You don’t like it?,” he’d snickered. “I think it’s kind of cool. You know, sort of like a stage name or something.”
“I’m not a topless dancer,” I’d scoffed.
He’d raised an eyebrow, that cocky smirk rapidly spreading across his face. “Not yet.”
“Oh god.” I’d threw a pen at him. “You’re such a perv.”
“Georgeann.”
“Damn it.” I whirl around again, and glare at him. “Fine, Trace. Fine.” I miserably make my way across the room and over to Justin, who looks at me like he doesn’t want to be bothered. I don’t give him a chance to make me feel stupid though. I just want to make this short and sweet, because I really, really hate having to apologize for something I know I’m right about. “Sorry,” I say quickly. “I just lost my head for a minute.”
He laughs and shakes his head. “Professionalism isn’t one of your strong points, I guess.”
I cross my arms stubbornly. “I have a lot to worry about.”
“And I don’t?”
I wish I could stand here and tell him exactly what he doesn't’ have to worry about. Merchandising, expense reports, receiving reports, inventory, store design... He doesn’t do any of it. He smiles for a camera and wears the clothes so Trace can live out his dream. And that’s cool. I commend him for giving Trace this clothing line and letting him build it into something he can be proud of. There’s not too many friendships in this world that allow for an opportunity like that, and in that aspect I can view Justin as a good person. “Can I be honest?”
He shrugs. “You’re not my favorite person right now, but I guess it’s cool.”
“You don’t have a clue what’s going on here.”
“You don’t have a clue what’s going on my side, Georgeann. I’m doing interviews for the line, guest appearances on talk shows, photos shoots...whatever they think works to sell the clothes. You act like I’m supposed to walk in here once a month and know the inventory and what some form means. I don’t have time for it, and fuck...Trace is your boss, and you talk back to him like he’s your employee or something.”
“Trace and I understand each other,” I explain to him. “If you stuck around long enough, you’d be able to see how well we work together.”
He crosses his arms and stares me down like he’s going to fire me, but I don’t back down. I cross my arms too and glare at him like I was before. If he’s going to fire me, that’s fine. I know I’m not going to be in dire straights. Hell, I could get a job at any other boutique like this one, and I have enough money stashed away that I could live comfortably for at least eight or nine months before I’d seriously have to start to look for another job.
“I know Trace thinks he’s found his merchandising messiah and that’s why I’m not going to take your attitude so seriously,” he finally says, having torn his intense gaze from mine. “He’s my best friend and if he’s happy with your performance I’m not going to deny him that, especially this close to opening day. But I’m going to be watching you Georgeann. Get rid of the attitude because I don’t have patience for it.”
“Fine.” I grunt and roll my eyes at him. “I’m sorry then.”
“Get back to work.”
I cross my arms and watch his retreating backside for several moments, before huffing in annoyance. Honestly, I can’t fucking believe him. I have the urge to call my sister and complain to her about how much of an asshole her boss really is. But I know that I have too much on my plate right now to be immature and stoop down to that level. Justin is going to talk to me however he wants, because he feels he’s the boss. But I guess it could be worse. I don’t have to see him every single day. It’s Trace’s job to be here and supervise things and that’s just fine. Trace is at least tolerable...gentleman like, even though he has raunchy tattoos and loves to tell me dirty jokes when I’m in the middle of making an important decision for his company...
“Hey.”
Oh god.
I walk away from Trace but of course he follows quickly behind me as I step into the window to begin putting the decals on again.
“Georgie, you know, he means well. He just doesn’t know you.”
“Hmph.” I raise and eyebrow and shake my head as I turn to face him. I slowly peel the white backing off of a giant sized William Rast decal, and smile at him sarcastically. “He just doesn’t know how to be civil and professional.”
Trace crosses his arms, and looks back over his shoulder. Justin is in the corner now, his back facing us, cellphone jammed into his ear so he can tune out the world again. “Can you at least try to be nice to him? He’s in town for the next week, he doesn’t have anything lined up that’s away from LA so you’re going to be seeing a lot more of him. C’mon Georgie. You and me...we’re a team right? We’ve come this far and you’ve done too good of a job to get on his bad side.”
I hate that I like him as much as I do. If it were anyone else...like my sister, I wouldn’t even be here right now. I would have told her to have Justin open the store himself. But Trace has worked his ass off, and we’re right on the brink of what is looking to be a really successful retail store. It’s going to be beautiful, and with his awesome business sense and my great flair for design he’ll be raking in the big bucks in no time. “We’re a team,” I mutter.
He smiles. “So you don’t hate me?”
I sigh. “No. Not today.” I turn around and place the sticker on the glass, jumping a little when I feel his hands massaging my shoulders a few minutes later.
“How about we just get coffee, work our way through lunch and I take you out to that dinner I’ve been trying to ask you to for a couple of months?”
I turn to him and sigh. One thing I don’t have time for is dating, especially dating my friends...or my employers, or whatever Trace Ayala might be considered at this point. “Oh please. You have Katie tonight, remember?” I’m thankful I just remembered, because I know it will steer his mind away from me and his pathetic attempts at trying to ask me out. He doesn’t know it, but it would be awkward. I’m not really the dating type. I’m too uptight, too hard to handle. It’s probably why I haven’t had a serious relationship in almost two years.
“Well that’s okay. I can make us dinner.”
Fucker. Always has a way out of everything. “Honestly, Trace, I don’t even know what time I’m going to let myself leave here tonight.”
“Well that’s simple,” he states, carefree as ever. “I’m giving you the night off.”
I shake my head. “Trace we can’t---”
“It’s an order. No excuses. I’ll fire you if you’re here one minute past six.”
“What?”
He doesn’t smile. “I mean it, Georgie. Look at yourself. You’re so damn tired, you never take a break for yourself and honestly...it makes me feel bad. I owe you this, and it won’t be as bad as you think. Katie shouldn’t be so rowdy at that hour.”
“It’s not Katie.” I smile gently. “I’ve met her. She’s a sweetie.”
“Ha. You saw her on a good day, with a lollipop shoved in her face.”
“God. If I have dinner with you, will you shut up?”
He smiles and winks. “I just might.”
I don’t say anything else to him, but I’m sure he knows that I’ve agreed to meet with him for dinner tonight. I hate that. I hate being conned into something I’m uncomfortable with. But he’s a good person, despite the fact that he can annoy the hell out of me at times, and I sort of owe it to him to make him happy. Besides, with his kid running around I doubt he’ll have the chance to act all awkward and freak me out. It should be a nice mellow evening mixed with the slight chaos of a five year old.
That kind of reminds me of work anyway.
“Seven, then?” Trace questions me after a moment or two.
“Yeah,” I say, trying to hold back a groan. “Seven.”
He finally leaves me to my work, not giving me a second glance when he walks out the door with Justin. They stop in front of the glass as I continue to finish the decal work, and start laughing and joking together like everything is just great. I guess I have to learn to understand how the two of them work. They seem to different to me but deep down I can tell they’re not. But does that mean that Trace is an asshole in disguise, or is Justin really a decent guy deep down that has trouble showing it from time to time? I guess this week is probably going to prove a lot of things to me, since apparently Justin is going to be around a lot more. I’m sure I’ll get to know him better than I do now, but is that a good thing? Or am I going to come out of this experience cursing the man to the high heavens?
Only time will tell.
***********************
6:45 pm. Santa Monica, California
I’m okay. I mean, I know I’m a pretty decent cook despite what my sister thinks. But she’s as good as my mom is when it comes to cooking, so her opinion barely counts. Justin will eat what I make, so I guess that’s something since he’s so accustomed to his mom coming here every couple of months and cooking enough food to last him a month. But again, his opinion doesn’t really count either ‘cuz he knows I’d kick him in the balls if he complained about the taste anyway.
But Georgie well, her opinion does matter. I can’t lie. I’m nervous as hell. I mean, I’ve only been building myself up for three months now trying to figure a way to ask her out without looking like a dick. I shouldn’t like her either. I know from experience that it’s bad to date somebody that you work with. Years ago I fooled around with somebody that worked for Justin. She started fooling around with another guy at the same time, so of course I wanted no part of that . The thing that sucked about it was, I had to stay on tour with her for two more months before I could get away from the girl. It was hell. I couldn’t hide from her since she was in wardrobe and I was required to be with Justin when he was getting prepped for his shows. After the tour she told me that she was pregnant and thought it was mine.
Seven months later Katie was born, and a paternity test proved that she was mine.
It’s been an interesting experience so far, being a dad. My family was really supportive when they found out the news. My mom especially. I don’t know why, but all of a sudden she really wanted to be a grandmother. I guess she just loves kids. Justin’s cousin Kennedy had a baby two years back and made her the godmother, and shit is that kid spoiled rotten. Katie is no different of course. My mom is always sending over these care packages for her, and gift cards for toys r us. She has too much shit. I even threw some of it away the last time I was at Jamie’s rummaging through her shit box of a condo. It pisses me off because I give her the money to take care of it and take care of Katie, and all she does is get high and go out to party every night. I’m so busy that I usually don’t even know who’s taking care of my daughter if I’m not and Jamie isn’t at home.
It’s a shitty thing, and I’m a shitty father for not taking a stronger course of action other than telling Jamie to get her fucking act together. I know if I told my mom about it she’d probably tell me to fight for custody or something.
But the really fucked up part of that is, I like being a part time dad. It’s shitty and I’d never tell anybody that, but it’s the truth. I provide for my daughter, there’s no question about that. But I just...can’t deal with her on a daily basis. She can be sweet but she can also be a nightmare...
“NO! I DON’T WANNA! I WANT YOU!”
Like right now.
“Trace! Can you give me a fucking hand here?”
I sigh and look up from the food I was preparing just in time to see my daughter attached to Jamie’s leg as she tries desperately to get out the door. “Kate, stop it,” I say, sternly. “I put on the cartoons for you. Look!”
She starts to freak out when Jamie pries her off of her leg, and pushes her further into the room. “Mommy has to leave for a little while, baby,” she grunts in annoyance. “Be good for daddy okay?”
“Mommeeee,” she wails, collapsing onto the ground in a fit of tears. “I-I d-dun w-wanna stay here.”
Jamie doesn’t answer. She looks at me like she almost feels sorry for me, before walking out the door and slamming it shut behind her. I’m left with a screaming five year old, and the worst fucking thing about it is Georgie is going to be here any minute now. I need to think fast. If I was five, and I hated being someplace, what would help? I go to the freezer, smiling a little bit when I see a box of Oreo ice cream sandwiches staring back at me. I quickly grab it, and take the whole box over to her. “Hey Katers,” I say, trying to keep a pleasant tone in my voice despite the fact that she’s still screaming at the top of her lungs. “Look what daddy brought just for you.” I tear open the box, fish one of the cookies and hold it out for her to take.
She takes it and hurls it across the room. It hits the tv and slides down to the floor, leaving a slimy white trail all over Spongebob’s face. “What did you do that for?,” I half yell. “Damn it, Kate.”
“I hate you.” She crosses her arms and sobs a little more. “I want Mommy.”
“Well Mommy is out being a slut tonight.” I storm over to the TV, and pick the ice cream up off the floor. “So you can hate me all you want but, here you stay kid.”
She stares back at me, her big blue eyes wide with curiosity. “What’s slut mean?” she sniffles.
I snicker. Hell, at least she stopped screaming for the time being. “It’s something that you should never, ever be. Okay?”
She seems to get it. I have to admit, she is a smart little kid. I just don’t get why she freaks out all the time...over pretty much everything. I have no idea what she does in school. She just started half day kindergarten last month at this really nice private academy my mom discovered for me. Jamie hasn’t told me much about it, not that she gives a shit anyway. I know she’s just happy to be kidless for part of the day now. I guess if I want to know, I should probably ask Katie myself. “So, do you like school? Are the kids nice?”
“I don’t like their dress up clothes.” She turns her nose up at me and crosses her arms. “I want to wear pink, because I’m a princess, but Mommy says I can’t.”
She’s spoiled fucking rotten and it makes me want to slap the shit out of her. When I was that age I was attending hot and sticky Tennessee public school. I mean, it wasn’t the worst thing in the world but it certainly wasn’t anywhere near the standard of this expensive as fuck day school academy she goes to. Hell I should just pull her out right now and show her what the world is really like.
But then I remember she’s five. She’s five years old. She barely sees me, and God knows how her mother treats her when they’re home. It’s probably all psychological with this attitude of hers, and I should probably buy a book about it or something. But I just don’t have the time. “True, you are a princess. A mean one,” I tell her, eyeing the clock on the wall.
7:05
Fuck, maybe Georgie bailed. Maybe she knows that I’m pathetic and my kid is a brat. I hate life.
“Daddy.”
It’s rare she calls me that. Most of the time she just yells or throws something to get my attention. When she calls me daddy though, it’s usually in that soft, calm voice that only comes around when she’s tired or she knows she’s wrong. In this case, hell, maybe she knows how stupid she’s acting tonight. I shouldn’t expect that from a five year old of course, but Katie is different. She’s smart and she thinks about things, unlike most kids her age. Maybe it has something to do with her living situation. It makes me wish that her home life was more stable, or that her mother would stop partying long enough to give her a proper home life...
Or that I could get my head out of my ass and raiser her up proper.
“Yes, Katie.”
“I don’t hate you.”
I smile a little as I walk back around the counter to finish preparing the chicken so I can get it into the oven. “I know you don’t, Katers. Now go be a good kid, and watch TV.”
“There’s moosh on the TV.”
I roll my eyes and wet a paper towel. “Well I wonder why, Kate.” I sigh and make my way over to the TV again so I can wipe the excess ice cream goo off of it. Then the doorbell rings. Great, just great.
“Is that Mommy?” Katie’s voice lights up excitedly as I turn around.
I go back towards the kitchen and throw the used paper towel in the trash. “No, that’s Daddy’s friend. If you’re nice and well behaved while she’s here, I’ll take you to the toy store next time we have a visit. Deal?”
She smiles slyly, something I’m very accustomed to by this point. It’s funny. The look is so advanced for her little face and I’ve always wanted to take a picture of it, but I just never got the chance. “Is it your girlfriend?”
I feel my cheeks turn a little bit pink as I quickly rush to open the door. “No,” I hiss. “And you better not say that to her either, got it?”
She giggles.
I open the door, and she looks...fucking incredible. Actually I’m probably fucking nuts because she’s wearing the same outfit she was wearing earlier in the day. But it doesn’t matter. She’s still beautiful despite the fact that she looks so tired from working all day. “Hey, Georgeann,” I smile and open the door wider so she can step through it.
“So formal, Trace?,” she chuckles. “Are you feeling okay?”
I roll my eyes. “I’m great, Georgie.”
“Much better.” She makes her way inside, immediately noticing Katie sitting on the couch. “Hey little one,” she says brightly. “I haven’t seen you in awhile.”
“You’re the lady in daddy’s store,” Katie points out.
Georgie laughs and eyes me quickly. “That I am. Are you having a good time?”
She huffs a little. “I threw the ice cream at the TV, and daddy got mad.”
“Oh? Well, why’d you do that?”
She looks down at her lap and shrugs her little shoulders. “I dunno.”
Georgie laughs a little and strokes Katie’s hair lightly. “Well it’s good to see you.”
“Are you going to kiss my daddy?”
“Katie!” I yell, as my face turns bright red. “What did I tell you?”
But Georgie doesn’t get mad, she just starts to laugh. “Trace, calm down.” She heads towards me and rubs my shoulder a little as she makes her way over to the table. “She’s just a kid.”
“Just a kid my ass,” I say to her softly, as I lift up the baking pan and pop it into the oven. “She’s got an adult mind, that one.”
Georgie shrugs a little. “I had a lot of spunk at her age too. My parents were divorced and I was constantly being shuffled from one home to the other. It does a lot to a kid. Makes them a lot more mature than you’d think.”
I sigh and turn around so I can stare at her as I lean against the closed oven door. Her hair is up in a messy pony tail and she looks absolutely exhausted, but is somehow managing to smile for me right now. It’s sexy as hell and I wish Katie wasn’t here so I could try to take her to bed tonight.
Wait...
Fuck, I’m thinking like Justin right now. How much of a scum bag am I? I mean, it wouldn’t be the first time I’d have slept with a girl on the first date. I’ve done that entirely too many times to count, and it’s bad. I’ve pretty much stopped all that since Katie came along, and besides, Georgie is different. Something tells me that despite the fact she’s been in the business long enough to know that sex isn’t really something to be taken seriously, she’s above that logic. She’s smart, professional, and doesn’t let herself succumb to her emotions no matter how much they might press her to. Actually, for all the months I’ve known her, I’ve never once heard her mention having a date or a boyfriend...or anything. It’s kept my hope alive, persuaded me to get the balls to ask her out so many times. I don’t know why I put it off. I guess I was just afraid things would be weird, and hell maybe they would have been. But with the store opening so soon, it doesn’t really matter how weird things get anymore. Once the store opens, Georgie is going to move on to another project.
Unless I can think of a reason to make her stay.
I’ve been racking my brain for a couple of months now, ever since she told me that Vuitton had offered her a job in Paris next year. I’d like to give her a job with us. Us meaning Justin and I. I’d love for her to run the store and everything but I’d be stupid to think that she wasn’t overqualified for that sort of thing. No, Georgie needs a meaningful job. Something that’s going to keep her on her toes and interested. I wish I needed a personal assistant, but I really don’t and Justin would tell me I had gotten my head shoved too far up my ass if I asked him about it. But if I don’t need an assistant and she can’t run the store then what the hell is going to make her stick around?
I don’t really know
But I know that I can’t fucking lose her. Not now. She’s the first girl that’s come along in years that I’ve been able to form a strong bond with. Ever since Jamie it’s been hard for me to trust somebody like that. I know I should suck it up. Hell, Justin has told me to a million times over. He’s even been fixing me up on dates lately, trying to get me to loosen up and be myself again. But none of them interest me. I feel like they only see me for what I’ve done, and what I’m doing...not who I am. They’re all so fake, and they laugh at all of my jokes which even I know are lame.
Georgie thinks my sense of humor needs some therapy.
It’s just one of the reasons why I know I’m falling for her...hard.
“Trace, you’re so quiet,” she sighs. “What’s the matter? Did Jamie give you an issue tonight?”
I just laugh a little. “Nah, It was fine. Katie threw a fit at first, but I got her to calm down after awhile.” I open the fridge and grab us two beers before joining her at the table. “I guess my mind is just floating off to other areas right now. I’m sorry, it’s dickish of me.”
“You’re such a tard,” she giggles and takes a swig of her Coors Lite. “Is dickish even a word?”
I laugh and shrug. “Hell if I know.”
“So,” she continues. “Did Justin get over himself yet?”
It’s not a subject I want to discuss tonight. Justin said a few choice phrases to me about Georgie over the phone earlier tonight before Katie came. I don’t know why she pissed him off so much this afternoon. It really wasn’t a big deal. But I’ve known Justin too long to deny the fact that he can be such a fucking baby at times. I know when she talked back to him this afternoon she bruised his ego, and thinking back on it now I wish I would have stuck up for Georgie instead of telling Justin that I would take care of the situation. I hate when I do that...when I don’t think and just do whatever Justin wants me to. It’s gotta stop because I know he was wrong today. “He’s fine,” I tell her quickly. “Sometimes he gets in a mood.”
“When he doesn’t get his way,” she says, smiling at me.
I chuckle a little bit. “You know that you have a point, but I’m not going to comment.”
“I know its weird for you, being his best friend and everything when I dislike him this much, Trace.” She tells me, the honesty breaking through in her tone. “I don’t expect you to understand or agree with me.”
“I agree but I can’t just take sides.”
She narrows her eyes at me playfully. “C’mon. You know that you side with him most of the time. You don’t have to sit here and pretend to be a neutral party for my sake. I can’t blame you. You’ve known him your entire life and I know how much he means to you.”
I just sigh. Yeah, she’s right. Of course she is. Justin is a dick and even his mother would agree, but I can’t just sit here and bad mouth him when he’s done so much for me. “I’d rather not talk about this,” I say, gently. “I just want to forget about work right now and have a good time with you.”
“Well I’m not really very exciting,” she laughs and drinks more of her beer. “But I’ll do my best.”
I smile. “Good deal.”
Dinner is ready twenty minutes later, and even though Katie whines that she wants to watch TV, I make her sit at the table anyway. Naturally she’s stubborn, crosses her arms and refuses to eat her food. It happens every time she’s here, and I swear I have no idea how the child manages to survive because I never see her eat anything but ice cream and candy. I don’t know what Jamie does. Sometimes Katie will ask me for macaroni and cheese, but since I’m an irresponsible father I never have any of it on hand. I’ve been meaning to buy all that crap, mac and cheese...kid cuisine...pizza shaped like Mickey Mouse ears and shit, but I just never remember. When I’m at the grocery store I get the bare necessities since I’m never home. I eat out a lot, mostly with Justin, my sister, or random bitches who I couldn’t give two shits about. Maybe if I took some pride in my daughter and actually tried I’d find some happiness in this whole dad thing. Maybe I’d actually want to spend some more time with her and stuff, focus less on being such a workaholic.
But I don’t see that happening anytime soon.
“I want ice cream!,” Katie hollers.
It sucks. I can’t carry out a conversation with sexy ass Georgie sitting across the table because Katie refuses to comply. I sigh, and open my mouth to holler back at her, but then Georgie speaks up before I can.
“Good girls get ice cream, after they finish their supper.” She smiles at her gently, like a mother would or something, and takes her plate from her. I watch her closely because I have no idea what she’s doing. Then she starts to arrange the chicken pieces on Katie’s plate into some sort of shape.
I laugh a little bit. “You’re wasting your time, Georgie,” I tell her, certainly. “She never eats. Hell, I end up eating her food every time she’s over here.”
“Hush.” She shoots me a little smirk and then plants the plate back in front of Katie a moment later.
Her eyes light up and she giggles. “It’s smiling.”
I glance at the plate more closely and sure enough, Georgie created a smily face out of the pieces of chicken. I shouldn’t be so amazed. It really was a simple thing to do that I’ve never taken the time to think of. All I ever do is yell at her, or shove candy at her to get her to shut up. I mean, kids don’t come with instructions. How was I supposed to know?
“Right. He’s smiling because he wants you to have ice cream after you eat him all up,” Georgie tells her with a smile. “Can you do that?”
She eyes me a little bit as she picks up her fork, then nods her head in agreement. “You promise I can have ice cream, Daddy? If I eat it?”
My mouth drops open a little bit and I stare at my daughter in shock for a long moment before I’m able to find my voice again. “Um...yeah...I mean, when you finish.”
She eats it. She actually eats the whole fucking thing. And all I can do is stare at Georgie in disbelief the whole time. I feel stupid, and inadequate as a parent. I have no business having a daughter at all...but I know if Georgie was stuck in my situation she’d make it work. What the hell? I want to be angry at her for showing me up, but I can’t be. It was a great gesture.
She’s great with Katie. Better than my own mother. My own mother can’t even get her to eat like that.
Fuck. A nanny. A fucking nanny. That’s what I can have her do. It would work out. Katie would be happier, and I’d be a hell of a lot less stressed out. Plus, I’d get to see her more....and tolerate seeing her more too. More as in like, every couple of days instead of once a week. Yes. Brilliant. Awesome. I’m not really sure what her answer will be but...I mean, I could pay her as much as those assholes at Vuitton would. More if she wanted it.
Wow. I’m really desperate.
We all finish dinner, Katie gets her ice cream, and the three of us sit on the couch and watch mindless cartoons for an hour. Then Katie’s eyes start to droop, and I know she’s getting tired. It’s nearly ten and I know she’s not usually up this late. Jamie was supposed to be here to pick her up a half hour ago, but as always, she’s a no show. I’m sure Katie will end up spending the night here once again, but this time...I’m not so angry about it. I didn’t have plans tonight besides this little dinner date thing and I don’t have to be up all that early tomorrow anyway. “I gotta put her to bed,” I whisper to Georgie.
“Oh, I can help.”
I smile. “Sure.”
Georgie grabs some wet naps out of her purse and wipes Katie’s face clear of ice cream as I carry her into her bedroom. I grab a pair of emergency pajamas out of the little backpack in the corner, and Georgie keeps her sitting up as I change her. It’s nice to have some help for once. Usually I struggle, and wake Katie up. Then she cries for an hour because she’s tired and I go to bed frustrated. This is nice though. Having Georgie here is nice.
“Thanks a lot for everything,” I tell her, once we’re safely outside the bedroom and the door is closed. “I don’t know how you got my kid to eat, but you did.”
She shrugs a chuckles a little bit. “I practically raised my sister. Ask her and she’ll tell you all about it.” She rubs my shoulder reassuringly. “It was nothing, Trace. I didn’t mind. What time should I meet you at the store tomorrow? The dummies are coming early right?”r32;r32;“Tomorrow I’d like for you and I have to have an off day. I called Steph and she said she’d be at the store at seven tomorrow to supervise the shipment. I thought we could head down at two and start doing a couple of things.”
She places her hands on her hips, a scowl quickly taking the place of her carefree expression. “You’re kidding right?”
“No...” I trail off, knowing that I’m starting to piss her off right now. “I just thought we could have a late day. You know, maybe after I drop Katie off at school in the morning we can have some breakfast, maybe go to the mall or something.”
“Trace! I have to get the store together! I don’t have time to waste running around town like there’s nothing important going on!” She shakes her head and pinches the bridge of her nose. “If you don’t want to come that’s fine. I already told you, I can handle it myself. That’s what you pay me for.”
“Look, I just thought we had a good time tonight that’s all. You’re really great with Katie too. I’ve never seen her act so mellow before.”
“So that’s an excuse for me to forget about work priorities, Trace? Because your five year old finally listened to somebody? Because we had a couple of beers and laughed a little? Honestly, I don’t know where your logic comes from sometimes. You have too much, I guess. You’re used to everything being done for you.”
“That’s not it,” I say sternly, glaring at her. “I can’t believe you’d even say that shit. You know me. You know how hard I work.”
“Well right now I’d never know it,” she grunts. “You’re acting like you’re on cloud nine or something.”
I’m silent. I can’t look at her because she’s absolutely right. I am on cloud nine. I want her to feel the same way about me as I feel about her, only I’m too much of a pussy to tell her how I really feel.
“Trace?”
“It’s cool.” I sigh. “I shouldn’t have brought it up at all. I know we have no time and a ton of shit to do.”
“I’m just saying that sometimes I think your priorities are backwards. You can’t have it all, even though you think you can.”
I nod. “Yeah. I guess not.”
I turn my back on her and walk down the hall. She calls out my name but I don’t answer, I just open my front door, and hope that she’ll leave before I get angry. It sucks that my heart is literally breaking over this girl, because I know I can’t have her. She’s in a league of her own and I’m too irresponsible to fully understand how her mind works.
“Why are you running away from me?” she asks me, as she grabs her bag and slips it over her shoulder. “You’re acting so weird, you know? It’s like you're not the same guy you are at work. I can’t just kick back with you.”
I sigh. “I guess I don’t understand you the way I thought, that’s all.”
“What’s to understand? We’ve been working together all these months and we know each other pretty well. Now all of a sudden you’re pushing me to come eat dinner at your house, and you stare at me like you don’t know what to say half the time.”
She’s looking at me like she knows I want her, but won’t tell me that. I know she’s too timid to point it out, and I’m too much of a pussy to go there...to tell her I care about her and I don’t want her to take that job in Paris. It sucks. It really does, and the most I can do is wait a couple of days and offer her the nanny job, hoping she says yes.
“I dunno, Georgie,” I finally say after I collect my thoughts. “Maybe this whole thing has my brain all jumbled up. There’s a ton of shit I’m doing all at once and it’s affecting my personality. I’m sorry, okay?”
She leans in suddenly and pecks me lightly on the cheek. “No, you don’t have to be sorry. You’re a great guy, Trace. I’m just...frazzled I guess.” She runs a hand through her brown hair and smiles at me. “I know you’re just trying your best, and that’s all you can do. Everyone gets tired and deserves a break. Even me,” she laughs. “But I’m just too dedicated to make myself take one. How about a compromise?”
I can feel my expression light up slightly at her suggestion. “What kind of compromise?,” I say slyly.
“I’ll go in the morning and make sure the dummies are set up and merchandise a few things. You take the day off, and maybe around three or so we can meet up and take Katie to the zoo. I mean, if you still have her.”
I’m an asshole because I’ve never taken my daughter to the zoo before. I know she loves animals. That’s the one thing that Jamie tells me to get her for birthdays and Christmas. Gorillas are her favorite. Last Christmas I got her a big stuffed one, and a few books about them. From what I hear, my gift was a big hit, and that made me feel good for a little while at least. “Well Jamie doesn’t really protest if I want to keep her longer,” I chuckle. “Not that I’ve ever asked. When my mom is in town she just assumes that she’ll want to spend the extra time with Katie and so she usually leaves her here for the week.”
“Well you should,” she nods. “I feel like...and I know I don’t know her, but I feel like you might care about her well being more than Jamie does. Katie’s a sweet girl, Trace. She can be wild, but that’s all for attention. I think she deserves to have a least one parent who tries, and I know you can do it. You just have to grow up a little bit, that’s all.”
I shove my hands in my pockets and look down at the floor. She’s right. I really do need to grow up, stop partying so much, stop getting drunk with Justin so much, and be a fucking father. But a big part of me doesn’t want to. I like my lifestyle. I like being wild and not having any ties. But it’s not right. Katie is going to get older and one day she’ll be a teenager and will tell all of her friends how fucked up her parents are. I’d like to prevent that, at least on my side. Fuck Jamie, because I know she’ll never change, but I guess I have a shot here to be something better than I am right now. “You’re right,” I say quietly. “Katie deserves better.”
“That’s the best thing you’ve said all night.” Georgie smiles and steps outside the door. “I’ll call you tomorrow and we can meet up, all right?”
“Yeah. Definitely.”
I”m itching to confess how I feel about her right now. My mind is literally screaming at me to do it, but as I open my mouth to say something, my throat goes dry and I realize that there’s no way I can do it tonight.
“Goodnight,” she says to me.
“Night Georgie.”
She waves and smiles one last time before heading out to her car. I watch her get in and drive away, wanting to kill myself. I can’t believe I didn’t say anything. That was the perfect fucking opportunity and I blew it. Of course I did. I always screw up everything when it comes to Georgie and how I feel about her.
And if I don’t speak up fast, she’s going to leave for Paris and I’ll never see her again.
Author's Chapter Notes:
This is by no means a story that i am putting first before Scars. I've just had the idea in my head for awhile and decided to start it. I don't know when it will be updated next, but hopefully soon.
Incomplete
ialwayzbesingin is the author of 25 other stories.
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Story Tags: williamrast justinandtrace
