How To Bake The Perfect Christmas Cake. Gina Calanni

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СКАЧАТЬ coworkers can see and hear you. I hate being under a microscope. Well, I guess hate is a bit strong. I don’t like being on display. Here, I’ve got my walls, but there is no sound barrier.

      I inspect the message box.

      “Lauren, when you get a moment, please come to my office.”

      Hmm, a moment. This doesn’t sound urgent, but it does pique my curiosity enough to log out of my call box. I place my headphones down on my desk and comb my fingers through my hair. I didn’t do anything wrong. Javier might need to make sure what my travel dates are, so he knows our lines are covered. He knows I always go home for Christmas and my time off was scheduled months in advance. Months before I met Jack and months before he didn’t show up. I sigh.

      I rub my lips together and push in my chair. I’ve got a nice leather one, it’s an upgrade. I got it for being the top resolution consultant. Almost everyone else has a fuzzy uncomfortable seat. I pat the chair and exit my cubicle.

      Javier’s office is not too far from my own space. I saunter in my knee-high boots and tweed skirt with my mauve angora sweater. I love winter fashion in Maryland. We have so many opportunities to layer, which isn’t even heard of in Texas where I grew up. The most layering people do is a tank top with a cardigan or a scarf. But here I can layer tights, sweaters, tops, blouses, scarves, coats, gloves, the list goes on for days and even with all those layers I am still cold outside. We have actual winters here, not like in Austin. I have snow boots, because they are needed here, whereas in Texas it is more of a fashion statement and a silly one at that. When it drops to the seventies in Texas, people drag out their winter gear as if there is a real need for it. Seventy degrees! We don’t pull out our winter gear here until we drop below sixty. And the die-hards wait until the temperature hits below fifty degrees.

      I tap my knuckles on Javier’s door. It’s pressed wood with a thick layer of laminate over the top of it.

      When I get the go-ahead, I open the door to see Javier smiling at me. He is dressed for success, as he often says during meetings, in his dark-navy suit with a Santa tie, it must be a gift from one of his kids. They always get him festive ties for presents. Javier is good dad and wears the flashy ties, which are quite different from his typical low-key striped conservative ones.

      “Hey, Lauren, how are you?” He reaches out to shake my hand. It’s a firm, warm grip. His hands are always warm but not clammy which is good.

      “Good, how about you, Javier?” I step inside his office and he gets up to shut the door behind me.

      Javier is a large man with a full head of jet-black hair. He mentions from time to time about his hair being a true gift from his mother’s side of the family. He sits down at his desk and I slide into one of the maroon chairs in front of it. I tap the arm of the seat. Leather. I breathe in deep. I don’t want to seem nervous in front of him.

      “Lauren, I’m going to cut right to the chase.” Javier pushes some stark white papers around on his desk and stares at me.

      “Yes?” I say. Internally I’m dying, am I about to get fired? For a two-minute phone call with my sister? That’s ridiculous.

      “We’ve been going over the reports and looking at your call times.” Javier stacks the papers on top of each other.

      Shiat, I knew it. That damn Leena. Like she doesn’t take personal calls. Arghh.

      “Lauren, your call times and balance-management skills are incredible. We are doing a disservice to our company and our clients keeping you in your current position.” Javier’s eyes are scouting my face. He’s reading me, waiting for my reaction.

      I can’t believe I am hearing him correctly. I blink. Yup, this is real. I bite the inside of my cheek to stop myself from speaking to soon. Sometimes, waiting to speak is better than blurting things out.

      “We want to promote you and give you your own team.” Javier’s mouth forms a large grin.

      My eyes widen, dost my ears deceive me? Did I just get the biggest promotion of my life?

      “Wow, Javier, that’s really great. Can you give me more specifics?”

      Javier laughs. “I knew you would want to talk numbers and that’s why we want to move you up. Here is a packet filled with everything you need to know about this new position, including the numbers. Take it home tonight and read it over. If you decide that you want to take this route with your career, you would begin in January after your Christmas break.”

      Javier stands up and offers me the stack of papers from his desk. I take them and shake his hand.

      It seems like the right thing to do. I know shaking his hand doesn’t mean I’ve accepted the position, but it is a business meeting and those typically end with a handshake. If I hadn’t already eaten lunch, I would rush out to the nearest diner and request the “business woman’s lunch special” in my best Romy accent.

      ***

      About a year ago I did the wise and responsible thing and invested in some real estate. I bought a three-story townhouse. It’s colonial style, which I love. The bricks are burnt red and the shutters are kettle black. It was built in the sixties and two huge oak trees stand tall in my front yard. I’m pretty happy with my little home. It has all the nice features one could hope for; a walk-in closet, a garden-size tub and a fireplace. My fireplace has never actually been used other than as a spot to light my candles. Ten various-sized white candles currently sit in the hearth, I switch the colors throughout the year. I bought some red and green ones to make the fireplace look more Christmassy, but I haven’t really been in the mood to decorate. My box of Christmas décor is still sitting in my attic.

      I am sad about the idea of not going home for Christmas, but I don’t want to hear about Jack or, worse, run into him. After I got home from the airport, alone, I sat on my gray suede couch for a good long period. I twirled the tassels on my lavender chenille pillows until I finally checked my phone. There was one voicemail. Not five, no, just one. The message didn’t really explain why I had made a wasted trip to the airport or why Jack had not made the flight. The message simply said:

       “Hi, Lauren, this is Jack. I’m sorry but I can’t make the trip. I’ll talk to you soon.”

      That’s it. Who does that? Who plans a trip to see someone you’ve been texting, calling, emailing, Facetiming with for a couple of weeks straight and then drops off the face of the planet? Well, I’m sure he didn’t drop off the face of the planet. But I hadn’t heard from him since. I didn’t try and call him because I was pissed and hurt. I was hurt even more when hours went by and then days of silence. No texts, no calls, no email, no flowers at my desk. To say I’m completely and utterly confused as to why I hadn’t and still haven’t heard from Jack would be an understatement.

      Tonight will be different though, I’m going to go out with friend Brianna. Brianna has recently broken up with her boyfriend of six months. Of course, her relationship has had its ups and downs, but we had both agreed about tonight’s plans. We were going to focus on being Single Ladies. Uh oh uh and all that. Though my relationship with Jack was short-lived, Brianna is in a different predicament. Their relationship had been long enough to have a ring put on it. Tonight, we are going to be strutting to a different ballad, we are going to be dancing queens and paint the town red. Well, not really the town, more like a fun dinner and maybe a movie. We hadn’t really set anything in stone because we are living freely. Young, wild and free, we made no concrete plans nor are in any committed relationships.

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