CC Fiction: Chasing Chastity (Part IV)

By CC Staff

[Chasing Chastity is a series by C. Ryder. You can read Parts I, II, and III here!]

“Well, thanks again for lunch, Jack.”

“Sure.” He looked at his watch. “Oh, sh*t, I have a meeting. Gotta go!”

“Bye.” He scurried off, leaving me alone in a cafeteria filled with chattering secretaries and yawing businessmen – the tables were divided according to sex. I NEED A

DRINK. THIS BIZ WORLD . . . UGH., I thought sullenly.

As soon as I walked through the front door of our Tudor home, I could see that Jack had contacted me through gmail chat. I poured myself some scotch into a crystal tumbler, sighed with frustration, and sat at my husband’s wooden desk.

Jack: hey

me: hey. What’s up?

Jack: just glad to see that you got home safe

me: thanks

Jack: ok, gotta go

me: all right then, have a good day

Jack: by the way, you looked very nice today…glad to see that the retail worked for your already lovely image

me: well, i try

Jack: good job! let’s have a dinner date next week. Cara is gonna be out of town, and i’m dyin’ to buy you a martini!

me: thanks

Thinking that our conversation was over, I stood up, patted my dog’s head, and headed to the bathroom. But Jack pinged me again.

Jack: if only i were younger, and we were both single!

I faltered. How was I supposed to respond to that? I mean, this guy was my friend’s fiancé! I tried to be nonchalant, but the only thing I could muster was a pathetic ‘ha.’

A week after my interview, I received a kind e-mail from Liz:

Hi Glenn,

As I promised, I wanted to let you know that we can’t hire you at this time. Even though your background is certainly impressive and you are clearly a very talented woman, it’s just too much of a gamble for us. I hope you understand this decision. I wish you well with your career search.

Best of luck,

Liz

Since the possibility of this job seemed real, I had actually changed my late-night schedule. When I read her e-mail, it wasn’t yet 8 in the morning, and the sun was breaking through a few low-lying clouds. On the verge of tears, I fought them off by heading straight into our kitchen and grabbing a bottle of vodka.

“The hell with this. I need a drink.” I made myself a screwdriver.

After I polished off the first one, I made myself another, and another, and another. A couple hours later that morning sun, originally so welcoming and bright, was causing my head to pound violently. I flipped on the television and started watching a sordid scene from Days of our Lives.

“As the world turns, so, so do the days of our lives,” the T.V. said sullenly and seductively.

Although I was drunk by noon, I could still somehow type. I saw that Jack was available on chat, so I pinged him.

me: hey

Jack: hi!

me: liz wrote me today.

Jack: yeah? what did she say?!?

me: they didn’t hire me

Jack: sorry to hear that. i did not hear…

me: it’s fine. to be honest, i’m not surprised

Jack: may i make a suggestion?

I bristled. Who does this guy think he is? I sucked on a melting ice cube.

me: sure

Jack: i would eliminate your Ph.D. and your education completely

me: why would you suggest a thing like that?

Jack: well, “some” firms might view it as your inability to finish what you started, since you picked up left and your first job so fast.

me: but that’s ludicrous! i mean, i not only have ONE ph.d., but TWO. i’d hardly think that suggests I have an “inability to finish” what i started!

I was fuming. Even though I’d slugged back several screwdrivers, I was suddenly sober as hell. He continued with the discussion, but I wasn’t having any of it.

Jack: that’s just my observation.

me: i mean, honestly, you’re telling me to eliminate an entire career. and there was a major turning my point in my life. you know that!

Jack: i know the circumstances, but others won’t understand

just my opinion – that’s all. i’d avoid the ‘mom’ talk, too.

you still wanna have that drink with me? please?!?

me: ummm? is that such a good idea, jack?

Jack: of course it is! what the fuck is your problem?

me: nothing. it’s nothing. really

Jack: great, then why don’t i pick you up – unless you wanna drive, but I suspect my car is more comfortable (wink, wink). plus I can get you drunk and, well . . .

me: ha. that’s terribly funny. look, I’ll give you a call in the next couple of days and we’ll go from there. ok?

Jack: cool. ttyl!!!

Even though I was humiliated, the crushing disappointment that I had felt earlier that morning was replaced by relief. But things weren’t getting any better. The phone began to ring.

“Uh . . .” I hiccuped. “Hello?”

“Hey baby! It’s me?”

“Yeah . . .”

“Well, how’s it going?”

I rolled my eyes and fell back into the cushy sofa.

“Uh . . .”