Safe Words Read online

  The minute I shut the door to Scarlett’s office, I raced across the room to Andrea’s desk. My legs wobbled beneath me as I walked. She was on the phone and held up a stern finger as I approached. Even with not knowing her long, I braced myself for a scolding.

  Finally she hung up. “What are you doing?” There it was. Just as I’d expected. “Natalia, this is an office not a schoolyard.”

  “I need a necklace,” I explained, trying to remember what Patricia had said. “With pendants. And volume.”

  “For Scarlett?” Andrea rushed from her seat before I could correct her but I decided it was worth it to see her frantic. I’d pay for it later, but for the moment I enjoyed it. Before I returned to my seat, I went to the bathroom, stripping myself of my undershirt and tucking in my blouse before I left the room. Just as I was sitting back at my desk, Andrea brought me a chunky turquoise necklace. Something I would never imagine myself wearing.

  “Thanks,” I replied, wasting no time to fasten it around my neck. My fingers struggled at the clasp for a moment before it hooked. Andrea stared me down as I finished.

  “That was for you?” Her expression was priceless. I couldn’t help but offer a small smile.

  “Scarlett told me to,” I shrugged, leaning back against my seat. Andrea scoffed, taking off back to her desk without another word. After she left, I spent another minute piling my hair into a messy bun on my head, deciding if I was going to play to Scarlett’s wishes, I would show it off. The necklace weighed around my neck, but it was a pleasant reminder of the obedience I was demonstrating.

  Though I was busy the entire morning and much into the afternoon, there was no sign of Scarlett. In between phone calls and emails, Andrea had me filing reports and helping sort and organize clothes of every kind imaginable. Just as I was picking up to head home, I heard the door to Scarlett’s office open. I turned towards her and we met eyes briefly. When she noticed me, she took pause.

  This time, there was a clear smirk to her lips. Again, it lasted only seconds, but it was there. She looked me up and down, seeming pleased. I reached for my purse and jacket, just as she walked past.

  “Have a good evening Ms. Stone,” I called out to her, watching her walk away. There was a faint turn of her head, but it was all she acknowledged of me before she disappeared around the corner to ask Robin for her jacket.

  AFTER THE LONG WEEK I’d had, Justine offered to take me out for a drink after work that Friday. The two of met at a hole in the wall place a short walk from my apartment. It was surprisingly rather quiet. We sat at the end of the bar along the wall on stools. While I sipped on my Long Island Iced Tea, I people watched. Neither of us spoke for a while, enjoying the peaceful ambiance. It wasn’t much of a place, but it did the trick.

  “So tell me about work,” Justine said, sipping on her appletini. I leaned back into the wall, shaking my head. Where would I even start? For the next few minutes I reiterated the day, finding myself talking about Scarlett. By the time I’d stopped rambling, Justine was looking at me funny.

  “You don’t need to be developing a thing for another Megan,” she warned me, taking another sip of her drink.

  “I don’t have a thing for Scarlett Stone,” I argued, unable to believe she’d just implied such an idea. “She’s my supervisor.”

  “Oh, really?” Justine said. “Well, you’ve been talking about her since we got here. She sounds like another control freak if you ask me. One of those was enough.”

  The idea that Justine was insulting both Scarlett and Megan bothered me. I barely knew Scarlett, and Megan should have been the bane of my existence by now. Instead, I felt angry.

  “I wish you’d stop being so hard on Megan,” I said, trying to remain calm. Justine stared at me in disbelief, setting her drink back down on the table. “She had her issues that she needed to deal with. I don’t think she meant any harm by what she was doing.” I couldn’t believe that I was saying the words. The thought of it made me sick to my stomach. Justine seemed to have developed the same opinion.

  “Jesus, Nat,” Justine shook her head, unable to look at me. “You remember what she did to you, right? How can you even defend her?” In truth, a lot of it was in fragments anymore. I’d blocked most of it out. It had been all I’d known for years. Of course I shouldn’t defend her, but I couldn’t stop myself.

  “She’s just misunderstood.” I argued. My brain was screaming at me to stop. To listen to logic and reason. All I could feel was anger still bubbling inside me. If Justine attacked her, she too, was attacking me for having stayed with her.

  “She’s crazy.” Although Justine was right, I was refusing to grasp it.

  For a minute we sat in silence. Justine wandered off to the bathroom, and I stepped outside to get some air. When I pulled my phone out of my pocket, I stared at it for a long moment, fidgeting. The alcohol was hitting me as I dialed. It rang twice before I heard her familiar voice on the other end of the line.

  “Nat, is that you?” When Megan spoke, I realized she was the last person on Earth that I wanted to talk to. I’d avoided talking to her as much as possible since I’d left for New York. Why on Earth was I calling her now? A wave of anger and regret washed through me. I tried to figure out something to say. “Hello? Are you there?”

  Finally I managed to speak. “I wanted to say I forgive you.” I didn’t know what else to say, so I let the line go silent. Did I even forgive her? After everything we’d been through? I wasn’t sure, but it was the only thing I could think of to reply with.

  “Can we talk? Where are you? I can come get you.” It was something she’d asked every time we’d talked since I moved. Each time, it had been harder and harder to resist telling her. Megan was very talented at manipulating me that was for sure.

  “I don’t want to see you,” I said. “I don’t even know why I called you.”

  “Just tell me where you are. With Justine? I’m going to come and get you.” Even with how much she had destroyed me, she knew me so well. Knew exactly what to say. Maybe that was the whole crux of the problem. I let people get too close.

  “I told you, I don’t want to see you. I’m going to go. I’m sorry I called.” Before she could say another word I forced myself to hang up the phone. My body rolled into the wall of the building. Just as I let out a soft sob, Justine was at my side.

  “I was looking everywhere for—Oh my God, what’s wrong?” It only took her a second to put the pieces together once I’d shown her my phone. Justine took it from me and I begged her yet again not to answer. Instead it rang off the hook, Megan calling me over and over again. It was likely she would continue into the night. If she’d known where I lived now, she’d have made the hour drive from Jersey to come find me.

  Justine took me home and stayed the night on my couch. I ended up turning off my phone. It was the weekend, so I doubted Andrea would be calling me with any work-related chores. In the morning I awoke to the smell of bacon and eggs. The only breakfast that Justine and I had known how to cook. It had been our staple food through college.

  “You didn’t have to do that,” I said, climbing from bed. Justine smiled at me, plating food but she didn’t answer. Once the two of us had sat down at my tiny two seat table in the kitchen, we looked at one another. I reached for my phone, turning it back on. Seven messages. Two dozen texts. I handed the phone to Justine, who promptly deleted them all.

  “You know, I was thinking last night,” Justine broke the silence, taking a bite of her food. For a moment I thought it was going to be something to do with Megan. Surprisingly, it wasn’t. “Maybe you just need to play the part for a while at work. Fit in. Like you said, if you stick it out there a year, you could be working at the New York Times next.”

  I coughed, choking on some of my food. Once I’d swallowed, I took a large drink of coffee. Working for the New York Times had been a dream of mine all through college. It had been the whole reason I’d moved after. “That is the plan,” I agreed.

  Justi
ne smiled at me. By the look on her face, I knew whatever would come out of her mouth next was something I definitely wasn’t going to like. Something that involved filling my weekend with all the girly things Justine loved most to do.

  And lo-and-behold, I was right.

  Chapter Three

  THE FIRST TIME I EVER wore high heels was the Monday I returned to work at Stitch. Somehow, I’d gone twenty-three years avoiding those death traps, opting for flats, sneakers and my good old Mary Janes instead. I take that back, I’d worn the high-heels one other time and that had been in the department store, when I fell flat on my face.

  Which was about to happen again, and I hadn’t made it ten steps down the block. Justine had promised me that with a bit of practice, I’d get the hang of walking in them. I was starting to doubt her. Instead of a quiet weekend to myself, it was spent at shopping malls and hair salons. Every place I never saw myself stepping inside.

  I tripped again. All I wanted was a coffee and a sandwich. Was it too much to ask? By some sort of miracle I got all the way to Jason’s Bakery. My ankles ached. There was no way I’d survive a whole day with my feet crammed into tiny, unsupporting feet destroyers.

  Even in my klutzy and frazzled state, I was still unrecognizable to Jason when I entered. He paid me no mind at first, arranging a platter of muffins. When he looked up, he studied me for a moment. “How can I help you ma’am?”

  “Jason, it’s me. Nat.” I offered a smile, and he stood stunned. He studied me a moment before he cleared his throat and shook his head.

  “I barely recognized you,” he replied, sliding my sandwich onto the counter and taking my thermos to fill it. Pleased, I smiled, watching him work. My dirty blonde hair was now an intense platinum color and it had undergone some treatment (at Justine’s insistence) that left it shiny and sleek. It took minimal effort to style, which had been right up my alley. The two-and-a-half hours of making chit chat with the hairdresser, however, had not been.

  My well-groomed fingers wrapped around my breakfast. I’d opted out of mustard, but today I’d packed a stain stick in my purse, regardless. Jason studied me over one last time before I gave him a wave and headed out the door.

  A taxi stopped right outside the shop for me and I rode the ten blocks to the Baker Publishing building. By the time I’d made it inside, I’d managed to not trip over myself every other step. Before I headed up the elevator, I stopped in the restroom to adjust my makeup. In addition to the laundry list of things Justine had helped me with over the weekend, she’d also instructed me on how to wear more makeup. I barely recognized myself when I looked in the mirror. My lined eyes and dark lips transformed me into a different person. A rush of nervous energy overcame me, wondering if I could even play this part I was attempting. Too late now, I supposed.

  When I landed on the twenty second floor and had exited the elevator, Robin and I met eyes. As I walked inside the clean glass doors, she smiled at me. “Can I help you?” I was shocked for a moment that she even asked, realizing that like Jason, she didn’t recognize me. When I took another step inside and tripped, my facade disappeared.

  “Natalia?” Robin asked me and I nodded, catching myself on the edge of the front desk.

  “How the hell do people walk in these things?” I said, flustered. Robin was studying me over. “They’re dangerous.” My hand reached down to soothe my aching ankles.

  “You look nice,” Robin spoke again, and I met eyes with her. I couldn’t help but smile at the compliment. Just as I was about to reply, Andrea rounded the corner.

  “Good, you’re here. I need you to—” Her thought was interrupted when she looked me over. For a minute she didn’t speak. She ushered me to follow her, and I did. My legs wobbled a little as I walked but I stayed upright. All the while, I found stares on me yet again. This time however, a wave of confidence washed through me. This time I felt as if I fit in. Even if I could barely walk.

  Andrea sat me at my desk and then disappeared. I organized myself for the morning while she was away. When she returned, she was holding a yellow purse of some sort. The side read Gucci. As much as I was trying to conform to this place, I was getting sick of seeing that name.

  “A hobo bag,” Andrea said, setting it in front of me. “If you’re going to go and do this..” She waved her hand around me, indicating my present state. “You need to have a nice purse to wear. This is last season, but it will do.” Complete the picture. Scarlett’s words echoed in my head. I wouldn’t ever get the hang of this. Suddenly I was craving a pair of Mary Janes and some stretchy pants.

  “This is for me?” I said, fumbling over the purse. When Andrea nodded, I smiled.

  As usual, she didn’t return it. “At least now you won’t go looking ridiculous.” She motioned towards Scarlett’s office. I rushed inside, tidying up as I had last week. This time, I wouldn’t leave my coffee behind. After I finished, I left the door open a crack and resumed my position back at my desk.

  Scarlett arrived a few minutes later. I watched as she approached, admiring her sleek attire. A crisp white blouse and a pair of black slacks with heels. As she drew closer, I lost my breath for a moment, recognizing the blouse. It was the exact one I had purchased with Justine the previous week. The one I had worn, and she’d so painfully criticized. Frilly sleeves with the lace collar. Paired with a thick necklace. I studied it for a long while, unsure of how to take the subtle gesture.

  When she reached my desk, I sat up straight, brushing a strand of my hair from my face. Scarlett paused in front of me. For a moment, she looked me over, much like everyone else had that morning. As if she couldn’t quite place me. Finally her eyes softened. She looked away towards her office.

  “The conference call with Burberry?” Scarlett’s lips pursed again after she spoke.

  “Scheduled for Thursday.”

  “The product meeting with Kylie Andrews?” I observed as her eyes drew back on mine. We stared at each other, neither of us wavering.

  “They are expecting you at ten this morning,” I replied. The way she was looking at me now was giving me the shivers, but it was what I wanted. Scarlett nodded and reached out to touch the silver necklace I’d worn with my black turtleneck. Then she looked over my face and hair, not directly meeting my eyes. Where I was expecting some sort of comment on my looks, she instead stepped back and walked towards her office without another word.

  I spent the next hour focused on emails and organizing Scarlett’s hectic schedule. My mind had gotten so lost in what I was doing, I hadn’t heard Scarlett approach. It wasn’t till I saw a shadow looming behind me that I looked up.

  “Oh, Ms. Stone,” my hand came to my chest, trying to catch my breath. It had taken everything in my power not to shout in surprise. “How long have you been standing there?”

  Scarlett studied me when I looked up at her. “You’re going to the product meeting with me this morning.”

  “I am?” I replied, but Scarlett had already skirted towards the door. I gathered my things, throwing the contents of my sling bag into the hobo purse and grabbing my jacket from Robin. By the time I’d made it to the hall where Scarlett was waiting, I barely made the elevator.

  Scarlett raised a brow at me as I entered, a huffing frantic mess. I tripped over myself again and felt my ankles aching for relief from the shoes. While we rode down, amidst a small crowd of people, I leaned against the wall, hanging onto the handrail to relieve some pressure off my feet. When we reached the ground floor, I followed after Scarlett out to the street.

  A town car was waiting outside along the sidewalk. It was the first time I’d ever rode in one. The driver held open the door for Scarlett and then let me in on the opposite side. We took off into the busy Manhattan streets. I shot casual glances at Scarlett, who was busy looking at a portfolio in her lap. Finally, she turned her attention towards me. When we met eyes, I could barely look at her for how she stared at me.

  “Where do you want to end up?” Scarlett asked me, crossing her l
egs and folding the portfolio on her lap. Her posture had turned somewhat relaxed and by her expression, she seemed genuinely curious.

  The question took me by surprise. I stared at her for a moment, unsure of what to say. I cleared my throat. “Pardon?”

  “When you leave Stitch, where do you want to go?”

  The question surprised me and I hesitated before I responded. “The New York Times. I’ve wanted to work there since I started college. We had a journalist come my first month of school and talk about her job. I want to be a field reporter.”

  Scarlett looked at me, her lips tight together in their usual fashion. “A thrill seeker, I presume.”

  “I’m just a curious person,” I admitted. “I like to try new things. It seems as if a field reporter would never get bored.” Scarlett seemed satisfied with my answer. Even still, she didn’t look away from me. I watched her drum her long delicate fingers on top of her leather portfolio for a moment before she spoke again.

  “You attended school in New Jersey. Is that where you are from?” The question threw me for a loop. I hadn’t expected her to know where I’d went to school. When she noticed my surprised face, she seemed to read my mind. “Your resume. Rutgers University. That would be hard to forget.”

  I settled back into my seat, nodding at her. “I’m from Pennsylvania originally. My father still lives there. I chose Rutgers to stay with my high school girlfriend. I would have stayed and gone to Penn State if it hadn’t been for that. I would be drowning in less student loans if I had thought it through better.” I’d let myself ramble on for a moment. Scarlett was studying me, but for the life of me I couldn’t understand why. It was the most attention she’d given me since I’d met her.

  “And your girlfriend. Is she with you here?” Scarlett asked it so casually it didn’t register at first. It occurred to me what a personal and somewhat inappropriate question it was for a work environment. For a moment I felt uncomfortable, but it passed and I replied.