The BACHELORETTE Project (The Project: LESLEE Series) Read online

  "So, do you share the same views as your partner in crime does?" she asks me and I give Amy this I'm-so-confused look as if I don't know what she's talking about, but I know exactly what she's talking about. She wants to know if I think she's a bitch, too. I do think she's a bitch, but I would never ever say it to her face. She's one of my bosses. Would I be that stupid?

  "I don't know what you're talking about," I say nervously and she laughs. A half-ass reply. I sigh.

  "Well, that's not what I wanted to talk to you about anyway." I gulp from the nervousness inside. Am I about to get canned? Should I begin to pack my things now? "We really need to discuss your position in this company." My hands begin to shake and I begin to sweat a little. Is this my last day here? Is Amy getting rid of me? "I've seen your work, Leslee, and I, myself, am completely speechless ..."

  I smile because I don't know what else to do. I twiddle my fingers. "I, um ..." I'm stuttering, I’m stuttering! Oh my God, what to say? "Um, is that a good thing or a bad thing?" I ask kinda wondering how I'd get all of my stuff on my desk into a small brown box. It’s like a mini photo gallery of Victor and me, my desk that is. I have so many pictures, so many little office toys, pens, my stapler, my emergency Snickers bar … Please, Amy, don't say I'm fired! I think to myself. In actuality I don’t need a job, but I want my job. I like my job! Think Park Avenue wife, think Park Avenue wife, whatever makes you feel better …

  Amy stands up from my desk, flings her long, streaky blond hair, and gives this incredibly fake laugh. I'm scared. Only vindictive people give a laugh like that, like those villains that you see in movies. I can definitely picture Amy being an evil villainess or something. She's very tall, slender, huge chest, defined high cheekbones. You could look at her and say, “Wow! The devil really does wear Prada!” but today it looks like she's wearing Chanel instead. Either way, she just screams evil. Amy, the evil, designer-wearing villainess. Yeah, that’s what I’ll call her from now on. It suits her.

  "I wasn't sure if you heard from your little friend yet," Amy says and she looks over at Minnie's desk then rolls her eyes.

  "Heard?" I answer acting like I don't know anything at all. "Heard what, Amy?”

  "Well," Amy starts as she dramatically leans in toward me and stares into my eyes. I can just taste the bagel and lox that she had for breakfast she's so close. I struggle not to make a funny face. "I have just been offered an office manager position at the Rochester and Lincoln law office!" Amy jumps up and down like a three year old in a candy store. I just put on a shocked face like I didn't know anything at all, but on the inside, I'm actually smiling. No more Amy! There truly is a God!

  "I can't believe it, Amy! That's so wonderful!" I respond. I stand up to give her a hug. She runs behind my desk and practically lifts me up off the ground, still jumping in the process. She finally lets me go and she's still smiling. I've honestly never seen her so happy. I'm so used to her being the overanalyzing drill sergeant of the office that I never noticed that she was capable of even smiling without sarcasm.

  "I know it is!" Amy shrieks as she dances in a circle. "And that's not even the best part! They are paying me a ridiculous amount of money! We are talking six figures!" The look on my face says 'Wow!' but my thoughts are saying, 'Let's pack Amy's stuff up now! Why wait?'

  Amy puts one hand on her hip and the other hand in the air doing these absolutely horrible zig zag snaps straight out of the 1990s ‘You go, girl!’ honeychild era. "We're talking Benz, girlfriend!" Amy says excitedly and I feel like puking. Girlfriend? Do people even say that anymore?

  "Congratulations, Amy!" I tell her. "That's such a great opportunity for you. How fantastic!" Amy is still smiling like she's on her own planet. Some people say money can't buy you happiness, but in this case, they are truly wrong. "So, wait," I say. "What does this have to do with me?" Is she taking me with her to Rochester and Lincoln? Will I have a six figure salary, too? If only I am so lucky.

  Amy claps her hands together. "Oh, yes. I almost forgot!" Of course she almost forgot! I think to myself. I just want to know what I'm getting out of this whole deal. It sounds stingy, but it’s true. How does this directly affect me? "Since I'm leaving, there will be an opening for senior paralegal here." Amy looks at me and smiles, another genuine smile. This could be a record for her. "Mr. Thomas asked me to give him a referral for whom I think would be the best replacement for me ..." Amy says and my palms are sweaty again. Oh. My. God! Just say it, Amy! I scream in my head over and over again. Am I promoted?! I have a good feeling about this! "So, I recommended you ..." Oh my fuckin' God! Fantastic! Promotion! I feel the urge to jump up and down, too. "… and Chloe Curano." The urge of excitement sinks into the pit of my stomach. Now I really feel like puking.

  "Chloe Curano?" I question and half of my faith in this promotion disappears. "Why her?" I ask. I never pictured Chloe as my boss in any sense. Honestly, I don't even picture her as my equal. Her work ethics suck, she has this horrible, greasy looking, long, stringy, dark brown hair, a huge nose that would make Pinocchio shit his pants, a nasty attitude as if she's better than everybody on the planet, and this sickeningly skinny, scrawny body that is just dying for some carbs. Her and those stupid lacey corsets she wears to work showing off those fake watermelons that she calls breasts. Ugh, I'm convinced that any woman that wears a corset in the public eye canNOT be trusted!

  "Well, not only is Chloe a good friend of mine," Amy starts and I have to stop myself from showing her how irritated I am, "but she has a lot of drive and determination. Chloe is a natural born leader and she'd be perfect as the senior paralegal, as would you." I begin to smell something: a strong smell; a familiar smell. Oh, yes. I know that smell. It's the smell of complete bullshit!

  I roll my eyes and sit back in my seat. Amy can tell I'm annoyed, and I am! What the hell? It's like she's more on Chloe's side anyway. Why even mention my name to Thomas then? "Now I know what you're thinking," Amy says and I try to ignore her and continue with my work. "You've heard a lot of rumors about Chloe, some more scandalous than others—"

  "I wouldn't use the word scandalous ..." I say under my breath and Amy continues to talk.

  "But what you hear are just rumors," Amy reassures me. "Dirty little rumors that are made up by the jealous people of this office. People can just see all the potential that she has and they want to be negative and ruin future opportunities for her. It's typical. I was in that position once." Too easy, I think to myself. It's just too easy. Dirty rumors? HA! Amy, just admit it! Your friend, Chloe, is the office whore. "I mean, that little incident with the janitor ... not true at all." Jose, the janitor: Cuban guy in his mid-fifties, always has a smile on his face and some headphones on his ears just mopping his little heart away. Apparently one day while everyone was gone, Chloe decided to stay late and catch up on some work—catch up meaning: let me screw Jose's brains out on top of the boss' desk. No one would have known about this fiasco if it wasn't for security hearing the loud screams coming from Mr. Thomas' office. The security guard broke down the office door and found Chloe humping the daylights out of Jose and enjoying every inch of his mid-fifties glory. Jose, of course, kept that smile on his face the whole time ... so I hear.

  "No comment," I say. I'm not even going to ask about the “incident” with Mark in Human Resources, or Seph in the mailroom ... or even Kelly the receptionist. If they are all rumors, then why is it all the same thing? I really didn't need to know that Seph in the mailroom is hung like a horse, but Chloe let everybody know, and how else would she know? Well, you can only guess ... she had wild, passionate horse sex in the mailroom on the floor with him ... in her slutty corset top. Chloe Curano's vagina has more wear and tear than a 1984 Honda Civic and that is more than scandalous.

  "Anyway, I'm not here to talk about other people’s personal lives,” Amy says as she grabs my hands. "I'm just here to say that you are a fantastic worker and I wish you the best of luck. Don't you disappoint me." I can feel her fingers touching my engagement
ring and her eyes widen. Her mouth drops as she looks down at the shiny, radiant diamond gleaming on my hand. “Leslee, are you … did you?” I nod my head. “Another thing to celebrate!” Amy squeals as she jumps up and down in excitement. “Congratulations!”

  I smile as I release my hand from hers. “Um, thank you?” I’m not sure if I can get used to Happy Amy.

  She stops jumping and smiling. “Wait a second,” Amy says. “You and Victor aren’t expecting, are you?” She motions toward my stomach as if to say I am pregnant. Knocked up? Babies? Is she kidding?

  “No … no!” I say. “I’m not pregnant. Why would you ask me that?”

  “Well because you and Victor haven’t been together for that long.”

  “We’ve been dating for two years. We’re engaged, that’s all.”

  “I don’t know,” Amy says as points to my stomach. “Looks like you’re either filling out there with a surprise fetus or you should go easy on the breakfast burritos.” Bitch! How dare she call me fat? I’m a size six for crying out loud! “Well I’m off!” she says as she flings her hair again as if the first couple times she did it weren't annoying enough. “Congratulations again on your engagement and good luck!” she says as she walks out of my office.

  “Thank you!” I call after her. “And good luck to you, too!” Ugh!

  Chapter Three

  Girls’ day out: a day where you get together with your closest female friends (and gay “boyfriends” if you have them) to gossip and get away from the realism of your personal life. Our girls’ day out consisted of shopping in downtown Manhattan, some much-needed time at Bliss Spa (FYI: the Youth as We Know It Facial and the Carrot and Sesame Body Buff are to die for!), and then lunch at Cafe Gray for some delicious French cuisine. Girls’ day out is the best therapy ever and my closest friends make it so.

  Meet the ladies of my metro social circle: First there's Angelina Luci, editor-in-chief of Fierce magazine, a high fashion publication that's known throughout the nation and various countries. Second on the list is Jacinda Rodriguez a.k.a Jay who works for Two-Way Advertising which is one of the best advertising agencies in the country. Thirdly, there's Zoey White, major public relations guru and the woman who knows everyone that is worth knowing. Last but not least, there's Thai Jones (no relation to Dow Jones) and Sandra Lowenstein-Lee. Thai actually works under Angelina as an entertainment writer for Fierce magazine and Sandra works for Fierce, too, as a secretary, but she's like one of those sexy, model-ish secretaries. All in all, I really like to believe that I have the best group of women friends that anyone can ever have. They’re like a clique of fashionable therapists who always listen to me vent and are always helpful with their advice especially when it comes to men and work related issues (such as Chloe Curano, the work whore).

  "I can't believe your boss, Leslee," Jay says after sipping on her glass of water. "How could she even defend that tramp in your office?" Thai and Zoey shake their heads in unison. They don't say anything because they're busy stuffing their mouths with some type of French delicacy, something that I'm sure they can't even pronounce. Of course Angelina made the reservation for us. She's the only one that actually speaks French and knows what's on the menu. Thai, Zoey, and Sandra could care less, but if it were up to Jay and me, we'd be eating burgers at the local Applebee's.

  "She just irritates me to no end,” I tell them trying to control the volume of my voice which seems to get higher and higher due to being completely pissed off at my professional situation. “It was like 'here's a promotion,' then she takes it back by saying 'oh, by the way, you have to fight the office slut to get it.' I mean, it's just so unfair on every level." I take a huge bite out of the French baguette on my plate. "I cannot stand Amy. She is such a bitch!"

  “And she’s leaving so you don’t have to worry about her anymore,” Sandra reassures me. “Besides, now that you have that gigantic rock on your finger, you should be happy.”

  I sigh. “Yeah, I know but—“

  “Do you even have to work?” Thai asks through a mouth full of food.

  “Well, no. I don’t have to, but I prefer to,” I reply then take a sip of my wine.

  “Now that you’re engaged to the Bill Gates of New York City, why even bother with the firm?” Jay asks. “Do what all those other Park Avenue wives do: shop and work out all day. There’s nothing wrong with that.” I shrug my shoulders as she pats me on the back. “Relax. If you are meant to get that promotion, then you’ll get it. If not, then it’s less responsibility for you to take on.”

  “I guess so,” I respond sullenly. “But if I don’t get the promotion, that means that Chloe Curano will be my boss and I would loathe that to no end.”

  “Hey, isn't she the chick that slept with the janitor and the mailroom guy ... and the receptionist?" Thai asks and I nod. She shakes her head. "Sweetie, you can kiss that promotion goodbye. That Chloe girl sounds like she'll do anything to get to the top even if it means getting on top of some middle aged penis. That little whore is giving away the milk without even wanting anyone to buy the cow. You know what I’m saying." I shoot Thai a strange look. She is so random sometimes, but she's right. Chloe Curano would open her legs for the Pope, the President, nuns, circus clowns, Christmas elves ...

  Zoey takes a fork and taps on her glass of water for attention. "I have a big announcement to make. As you all know, I, Zoey White, know everything about everyone and where all the best gatherings are on a Saturday night or any night for that matter." She takes a dramatic pause as we all look in awe. "Well, tonight—”

  "I swear if this is another K-Fed party, I'm not going," Sandra says interrupting Zoey in midsentence. Jay and I laugh as Zoey rolls her eyes.

  "Anyway," Zoey continues ignoring the comment from Sandra. "As I was saying before, tonight we are going out on the town.” Zoey stands up and looks at all of us. “Ladies, put on your hottest couture and the sexiest stilettos you own because we are going to Marquee tonight, and guess who will be there?"

  "Who?" Thai and Angelina ask in unison.

  Zoey smiles. "Mark Wahlberg, Drake, and Pharrell from the Neptunes." Thai's mouth drops in amazement and she grabs Sandra's arm.

  "Oh my God," Thai manages to say as she squeezes Sandra's arm tighter. "Pharrell. Oh my God. Oh. My. God!"

  "Yup, and of course I got us on the V.I.P list," Zoey says, smiling. She prides herself on this stuff. "This will be the icing on our girls’ day out. Great, right?" Thai can't stop smiling, Sandra's still in pain from the arm-grabbing, Angelina pulls out her Blackberry and starts texting furiously as if she needs to tell everyone she knows where she's going for the night, Jay continues to sip on her water (because, duh, she's not even into guys or celebrities for that matter), and I, well ...

  "I can't go, Zoey," I say. "I already have plans with Victor. I wish I could but I already told him that I'd go out with him." Zoey's face drops in disappointment. It's a face that I'm used to. I've missed so many hot social events this year (including New Year's Eve) for Victor that I'm surprised that I even have friends left in this city. "Sorry, Zoey."

  "Leslee, can't you make plans with him on another day?" Angelina chimes in as she grabs my hand and swings it back and forth. "Girls’ day out, girls’ day out ..." she chants and I smile.

  "No, I really can't. Tonight is our date for Valentine's Day. Instead of going out when everyone else goes out—"

  "What ever happened to going out for Valentine's Day on Valentine's Day?" Jay asks and I just shrug my shoulders.

  "I dunno,” I say. “He wanted to go tonight and I said that it would be OK." In my defense, Zoey's surprise plans really were a surprise. She didn't tell any of us during the week that we were going out tonight. If that was the case, I would've told Victor no already. “Besides, it’s not just for Valentine’s Day. It’s for my birthday, our anniversary …”

  "Just blow him off, Leslee," Zoey says. "Who cares? You’ll have other birthdays and anniversaries."

  "I can't just blow hi
m off," I answer. "We have plans."

  "OK, well then blow him then blow him off," Angelina says. "It makes breaking plans with your boyfriend so much easier."

  "I can't do that. It's Valentine's Day ... sorta." I use my fork and start picking at my food. I don't even know what the hell this is on my plate because Angelina ordered it for me. It sounded delicious when she said what it was out loud, but on my plate it looks kind of … weird/disgusting?

  "Well, everyone else is going, right?" Zoey asks and everyone nods their heads except me. "See, you are outnumbered, Leslee. You should go. I can already hear Club Marquee calling your name." I look down and say nothing. "Let's have a toast, ladies. Glasses up." We all pick up our wine glasses in the air. "Here is to fabulous New York City, the fabulous Club Marquee, and my fabulous personal trainer, Fabio, who keeps my butt looking really tight and my abs looking like steel."

  "Here's to Valentine's Day," I say and Zoey rolls her eyes.

  "Here's to all the wonderful celebrities that have graced the cover of my magazine and earned me lots of money," Angelina says.

  "Here's to girls’ day out and hard liquor, both needed very much in our society,” Sandra says and we all smile.

  "Here's to Pharrell and I pray that I get the opportunity to lick the sweat off his body and lick the sweat off his sweat," Thai says still sounding a bit starstruck and a little scary and stalkerish at this point.

  "And last but not least," Jay starts as she looks over at me and smiles. "Here's to Leslee’s 28 birthday, her very possible promotion, and to the office whores of Manhattan for making our lives a little more interesting because you can't live with them and you—"

  "CAN'T LIVE WITHOUT THEM!" We say in unison and laugh. We tap our glasses together and drink up. "There's always something to talk about," Jay says as we continue on with our girls’ day out.

  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  “Honey, I’m home!” I yell as I walk through the door of my Park Avenue home. Sadly, I can barely get through the door with all my bags from shopping all day with the girls. “Victor?”