The Matchbaker (A Romantic Comedy) by Jerrica Knight-Catania

call when Celia pops her head back around the door. “By the way, love the sweater, but if you ever go to Bergdorf’s on the clock again, you’ll be fired. Understood?”
    I can’t say anything. I’m too dumbfounded. And thankfully Celia isn’t looking for an answer—she’s already gone again. Damn Monica! She was supposed to keep it a secret. Now Celia will be watching my every move when I go out for lunch meetings.
    I shake my head. It’s fine. I’m still only a junior executive. I’m sure once I’m a senior executive, no one will notice if I take more time at lunch. And I certainly won’t have to hide my purchases under Monica’s desk anymore. I’ll be able to do whatever the hell I want. Celia has the freedom, but she chooses not to take it. Maybe she’s just bitter that I found an opening for a little fun and relaxation in the day and she didn’t. But is it really my fault? She could spend all day at Sax and I wouldn’t say a thing. As a matter of fact, I would applaud her for it. All work and no play is just a silly mantra to live by and no one who has the freedom to do otherwise should stick to it.
    Besides, I’m working much harder this afternoon than I normally would. I’ve already gotten through most of the afternoon’s work and it’s only four o’clock.
    By the time six rolls around, I’m feeling slightly less confident. It seems lots of CIOs and CEOs stop working around four or five in the afternoon or they’re so backed up with work by that hour they don’t have time to take your call. So I’ve mostly gotten voicemail over the last couple hours, which means I have to make all these calls again tomorrow morning. Not great, since my desk is already being piled with things to do tomorrow. So much for the 4-Hour Workweek .
    But it’s fine. I’ll just go to bed early tonight and get a good night’s sleep so I’m good and fresh for tomorrow morning and ready to make a great impression on Celia.
    ~*~
    It’s five minutes ‘till eight when I arrive at the office the next morning, but Monica is looking at me with alarm.
    “Oh, my God. Where have you been?” she says, her voice hushed yet urgent.
    I stare at her, confused. “What are you talking about?” I look at my phone’s clock. “It’s not even eight yet.”
    “Yeah, but the meeting started at seven-thirty. Clyde’s been out here three times asking where the hell you are.”
    Clyde? Oh, God. That’s the big boss. But…“Monica, what are you talking about? I don’t know anything about a meeting.” I pull out my phone and flip to the calendar. Nothing. Not a word about a meeting this morning.
    “Candace, even I knew about this meeting. Didn’t Celia tell you? This is the big International Strategy one.”
    Crap. It is a big one. A really big one the company only has twice a year. How did I miss the announcement?
    “All right, well, there’s nothing I can do except get in there. Better late than never, right?” I shoot Monica a hopeful smile, but she doesn’t return it. She only shakes her head as if to say, You’re doomed .
    Not possible. I’m not doomed. That’s just silly. I mean, I’m only a half hour late. I’m sure there are hours left to the meeting. They’ve probably just now settled in with their coffee and donuts. I’m positive I haven’t missed anything.
    Head held high, I walk confidently down the main hallway and turn into the boardroom. Twenty people are sitting around the large glass table and they all look at me as I enter the room. No donuts or coffees to be found.
    I gulp, but try to keep it together. It’s fine. How valuable could I be to this discussion, anyway? I’m sure they’ve gotten on fine without me. I am new to this position, after all.
    “Well, well, well. Look who’s decided to join us,” Clyde says from the front of the room. Heat rises into my cheeks. Oh, God. It was bad enough that everyone saw me come in, now Clyde has to point out that I’m late. Just great. “I had