feelings for Billy. But I do, so I have to figure out what thatmeans. I can’t just ignore it. Besides, confiding to Izzy would only have her wisely recommend that I pass Billy on to someone else, which I’m not ready to do.
For now, I need to figure this out on my own.
In the memo section of my BlackBerry I’ve even started a reminder list of all the sweet little reasons I love Jacob:
Lets me have the last bite of any dessert we share
.
Remembers his friends’ birthdays even though he’s a dude
.
Always puts my phone in the charger for me if I fall asleep and forget
.
Never—
Tru interrupts me with the one thing that I can’t put on hold.
“Sophie? It’s Priscilla on line two.” I wonder if Priscilla is calling to thank me for the extremely detailed email I sent her with the wrestling account’s entire background. I was extra-diligent and included every aspect of the relationship, because I refuse to give Priscilla any excuse for not doing a good job. I grab for my headset.
“Priscilla. What’s up?” No point in small talk.
“I just have a couple questions about dealing with Brandon Falken.”
“Brandon Falken?” Mr. Falken
owns
United American Wrestling, and if anyone interacts with him, it would be Elle. “What happened to Christine? She’s the PR contact. Why would you bedealing directly with Mr. Falken?” Oh my God. Seriously? I can’t leave Priscilla alone with this account for a day before she’s ruining relationships I’ve spent years developing?
“No, no. Christine and I are getting along great.” Maybe Priscilla finally has learned to hear the nuances of stress in my voice, but whatever the reason, I am relieved to hear her explanation. Maybe she’s not entirely incompetent. “Christine and I are working on some big concept pitches. That’s all. And I know that you’ve done some big projects with the account, so I wanted to chat with you about what Brandon is like. What he wants to hear.” Of course she’s already on a first-name basis with the mogul. Priscilla proceeds to ask some absurdly basic questions about the account, and I do my best to maintain my strategy: give her every piece of advice I can, so she can either prove herself—or prove that I’ve been right about her all along. Eventually it becomes impossible not to tune out her irritatingly cultured tone of voice, rattling off mundane details I already know about the client.
The other half of my mind drifts back to the Billy/Jacob situation.
I suppose it seems awfully arrogant and perhaps a tad presumptuous to think of it as Billy vs. Jacob. Billy hasn’t exactly proclaimed himself, but he has certainly been flirtatious. And am I seriously even considering breaking up with Jacob, a totally great guy, for what will likely be a short-term fling with a movie star? I’m not naïve. But maybe if I’m even having these feelings, it’s a sign and I owe it to Jacob to be honest with him about it?
It’s so easy to give other people advice, but when it’s actually happening to you, the right answer isn’t so obvious.
Priscilla seems blissfully unaware that I am barely hanging on to our conversation. She keeps prattling away at such a chatty pace that for a second I wonder
why
she is being so agreeable with me all of a sudden. And then the thought disappears when the caller ID shows an incoming call on line one.
Jacob.
“… so, when I realized that Christine and I were thinking so similarly, it occurred to me—”
“Priscilla. I’m sorry but I have to take my other line. Let’s talk later. Or better yet, email me.” I disconnect with her and grab Jacob’s call before Tru can pick up the line.
“Hi,” I say, followed by an awkward pause. And I’m not usually one for awkward pauses.
“Sophie. Sorry I couldn’t call sooner. I’ve been swamped all day.” Jacob’s voice seems completely unaware of the tension on my half of this phone call. “So, what’s for dinner? I’m
For now, I need to figure this out on my own.
In the memo section of my BlackBerry I’ve even started a reminder list of all the sweet little reasons I love Jacob:
Lets me have the last bite of any dessert we share
.
Remembers his friends’ birthdays even though he’s a dude
.
Always puts my phone in the charger for me if I fall asleep and forget
.
Never—
Tru interrupts me with the one thing that I can’t put on hold.
“Sophie? It’s Priscilla on line two.” I wonder if Priscilla is calling to thank me for the extremely detailed email I sent her with the wrestling account’s entire background. I was extra-diligent and included every aspect of the relationship, because I refuse to give Priscilla any excuse for not doing a good job. I grab for my headset.
“Priscilla. What’s up?” No point in small talk.
“I just have a couple questions about dealing with Brandon Falken.”
“Brandon Falken?” Mr. Falken
owns
United American Wrestling, and if anyone interacts with him, it would be Elle. “What happened to Christine? She’s the PR contact. Why would you bedealing directly with Mr. Falken?” Oh my God. Seriously? I can’t leave Priscilla alone with this account for a day before she’s ruining relationships I’ve spent years developing?
“No, no. Christine and I are getting along great.” Maybe Priscilla finally has learned to hear the nuances of stress in my voice, but whatever the reason, I am relieved to hear her explanation. Maybe she’s not entirely incompetent. “Christine and I are working on some big concept pitches. That’s all. And I know that you’ve done some big projects with the account, so I wanted to chat with you about what Brandon is like. What he wants to hear.” Of course she’s already on a first-name basis with the mogul. Priscilla proceeds to ask some absurdly basic questions about the account, and I do my best to maintain my strategy: give her every piece of advice I can, so she can either prove herself—or prove that I’ve been right about her all along. Eventually it becomes impossible not to tune out her irritatingly cultured tone of voice, rattling off mundane details I already know about the client.
The other half of my mind drifts back to the Billy/Jacob situation.
I suppose it seems awfully arrogant and perhaps a tad presumptuous to think of it as Billy vs. Jacob. Billy hasn’t exactly proclaimed himself, but he has certainly been flirtatious. And am I seriously even considering breaking up with Jacob, a totally great guy, for what will likely be a short-term fling with a movie star? I’m not naïve. But maybe if I’m even having these feelings, it’s a sign and I owe it to Jacob to be honest with him about it?
It’s so easy to give other people advice, but when it’s actually happening to you, the right answer isn’t so obvious.
Priscilla seems blissfully unaware that I am barely hanging on to our conversation. She keeps prattling away at such a chatty pace that for a second I wonder
why
she is being so agreeable with me all of a sudden. And then the thought disappears when the caller ID shows an incoming call on line one.
Jacob.
“… so, when I realized that Christine and I were thinking so similarly, it occurred to me—”
“Priscilla. I’m sorry but I have to take my other line. Let’s talk later. Or better yet, email me.” I disconnect with her and grab Jacob’s call before Tru can pick up the line.
“Hi,” I say, followed by an awkward pause. And I’m not usually one for awkward pauses.
“Sophie. Sorry I couldn’t call sooner. I’ve been swamped all day.” Jacob’s voice seems completely unaware of the tension on my half of this phone call. “So, what’s for dinner? I’m
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