“Taking it back to the shop and getting a loan phone does not count.”
“Well for your information I am now using my phone to order lunch.”
Now that caught my attention. Lunch, and it was only eight fifty-five in the morning. Please be the sushi rolls from that Japanese place that just opened around the corner. My stomach rumbled at the thought of it and, embarrassed, I let out a loose cough and made a mental note to eat more breakfast in the morning. Clearly my stomach and I were not in harmony with this ‘let’s just have a cup of coffee’ diet that had become a terrible lazy habit.
“Charlie, the people all the way in Africa can hear your thoughts as well as your belly, and yes I am ordering from that new Japanese place, and no you aren’t eating those salmon rolls that made you puke up more than Linda Blair in the exorcist.”
“Gross, but you do have a point.”
Suddenly I felt queasy. That was one hell of a bad salmon roll. How was it possible I was not scarred enough that my body still craved it? The problem was I remembered how mouth-watering it was when I took the first bite and failed to remember the aftermath. I shuddered at the thought and mentally scolded myself for craving it again. I was so weak.
“Of course I do. I’m your BFF. It’s my job to steer you away from danger, and that includes bad sushi rolls.”
He buried himself in his phone again, looking up for only a moment to show me some picture of a dog wearing a Halloween costume. I had to laugh, because it was beyond pathetic that someone went to these lengths, yet cute at the same time. Of course he knew me well; Eric was one of my BFFs, as he liked to call it. It all sounded very juvenile but that's what I loved about him. He brought out the fun in everyone, plus he reminded me every day that we were generation Y. Living in a world that could no longer function without social media and ridiculous abbreviations such as BFF, Totes, YOLO and LOL. It wasn't long before they worked their way into my vocabulary, along with other, more vulgar words.
He leaned over and whispered in my ear, “Look at Emma.”
I looked over and noticed she was reading something on her cell with her face scrunched up while she chewed on her hair. “What about Emma?”
“Do you think that’s her sex face?”
“Lord I hope not.” I laughed, then turned away as Eric let out a cough.
Like a whirlwind, Nikki, who was my partner at the firm, threw her stuff on the large mahogany table creating a loud bang which startled the others. Her usual perfect hair looked disheveled as she blew it out of her face, annoyed that it strayed. Her bright blue eyes had dark circles underneath them. I couldn’t help but worry as I took in her appearance.
“Bull’s, are you okay?” I asked, quietly trying not to attract attention.
“No, not really. I spent most of the night sick from that Italian place. My new Dior dress was ruined because Rocky couldn’t wait to reach the toilet or basin. It was the most disastrous anniversary in the history of bad anniversaries, like a scene from one of those cheesy movies.”
“The ruby colored Dior dress?”
“Yes, Eric. The ruby colored Dior dress which is at the dry cleaners being cleaned of any traces of projectile seafood marinara,” she answered in a huff.
“Thank God, Nikki. That dress is to die for!”
It was totally Eric to worry about the dress more than the person. He was fashion obsessed and if you were his best friend, it was impossible not to feel the same. It was the main reason why I designated him as my personal shopper when I didn’t have time to shop for myself. We were a lethal combination but American Express seemed to love us.
“Okay, seriously, let’s get this meeting underway before I projectile vomit over all of you,” she quickly interjected. With a look of disgust, she started the meeting and I followed her lead. Our assistants took down notes and my mind went into overdrive, excited by the new clients we had recently acquired.
When the meeting finished, I found myself alone with Nikki which gave us a few minutes to catch up before we were inundated with work for the rest of the day.
“So, I’m guessing your anniversary didn’t have a happy ending?”
“Honestly Charlie, you know I love Rocky, but there is seriously nothing more unattractive than seeing your husband covered in vomit, bent over the toilet bowl crying while calling his mom and asking her to come over.”
“He called his mom?” I asked, trying to hold back my laughter.
“Yes, and she arrived exactly an hour later with what could only be described as the entire drugstore.”
I wasn’t surprised; Rocky was such a momma’s boy.
“Enough bitching about my sookie la la momma’s boy husband and back to work.”
“You sure you don’t want to go home and just rest for the day?”
“Charlie, you’ve known me what, seven years? Since when did I ever go home sick?”
“True story. We’ll catch up later,” I said as I walked out of the room and headed towards my office.