A Life More Complete(13)

“No. You look...” he pauses for a second, “wrinkled.” He leans down and tries to smooth the lapel of my jacket. “Lose the jacket. Far too wrinkled to be acceptable.”

“Thanks. Will do,” I say slipping it off and stuffing it into my laptop bag. Ellie glances into my office for the second time in thirty seconds. I give Bob a wide-eyed look that says get out without actually saying it.

“Gotta run. Enjoy your muffin, my little love muffin,” Bob quips as he heads out the door.

I turn my attention back to the reason I’m here. My morning goes along quietly. I begin to secure dates for book signings for one of my newer clients and by the time I’m done it’s lunchtime. Since I didn’t get my run in this morning I head to my car to grab my gym bag. I stop off at the deli around the corner from my office and grab a turkey sandwich. I’ll eat while I change my clothes.

One of the many things I love about working in the city is the fact that there’s a gym in my office building. I climb onto the treadmill and glare at the laminated paper taped to the front stating that I have a 30-minute time limit. Screw that. I need at least an hour, more would be wonderful, but I need to get back to my desk.

In an hour I make it just over six miles. I shower and put my day old clothes back on. I look better, still wrinkled, now without makeup and wet hair. My cell phone rings just as I’m walking out the door.

“Kristin Mullins,” I answer politely.

“Krissy!” Trini’s voice is shrill. She’s my only client that calls me Krissy. “I have been trying to call you all morning. Didn’t Maggie tell you? Oh my God, why didn’t you call me back?” She’s dramatic as always.

“What’s up?”

“Oh my God, Krissy! The paparazzi took a picture of me getting out of my car and now my crotch is all over the tabloids again,” she sighs and whines all at the same time.

“What do you want me to do? I told you last time this happened to wear underwear every day and try climbing out of cars more lady-like. I’ll contact the tabloids with a cease and desist letter, but that’s about all I can do.”

“Okay, but I...uh I don’t know. Why does this keep happening to me?” She’s whining again.

“Um, because you keep going out in public without underwear.” I would never speak to my other clients the way I speak to Trini. Even this is subdued when it comes to Trini. She does stupid things and then regrets them later. Someone like me is always there to pick up the pieces.

“I know. Sorry. Love you, Krissy.” She makes a kissing noise into the phone and I roll my eyes. I love her, but sometimes she is exasperating.

It’s after five by the time I finish up dealing with Trini’s latest mishap. The tabloids agreed to remove the pictures from their websites, but the magazines went to print already. I call her with the news as I shut down my computer. She’s not as whiny and I know when I hear her voice she’s been drinking.

“You at dinner?” I ask.

“Yes, just ordered. Nearly finished a bottle of wine,” she laughs. We both know full well she’s not old enough to drink and if the restaurant has any idea who she is they know, too. “I’m here with Luke and when we’re done, we’re going out clubbing.” Luke is Trini’s actor boyfriend. He’s a prick and the worst kind, a young, rich, actor prick.

“Be careful. I don’t want to deal with any more crap tomorrow. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Okay. Bye, Krissy.”

My phone dings with a text and it’s from Ben. I smile and open it.

Ben: Coming over. Be there in an hour. Me and my bed missed you today.

I quickly text him back.

Me: Good. I’ll get dinner. Just leaving now...seriously.

I add in that last part because I know he thinks I’m full of shit. More times than I can count I have uttered that phrase and stayed at the office for several more hours. Today was a good day. I don’t know when I started to hate my job. I thought it would be one of those things that built over time, but it snuck up on me. Suddenly it was there and I couldn’t shake the feeling. I thought maybe I’d just lost focus and eventually it would return, but each day I set about the same path with the same fake smile and the same worn out drive that lingered no matter what. I used to love my job and all the excitement and travel that came with it. I would send my best friend Gia pictures of me standing in front of landmarks in New York City, on a yacht or in a seaplane headed to some obscure island.