Anchovies, Tuna, and Narwhals

EMERALD

Tate

Be ready at 6

That’s what I got. No clue as to where we were going so I could dress accordingly, but I shouldn’t have expected any different. Mr. King just expected you to know things like this.

I had put in a great deal of effort to make sure I was ready to go at six o’clock since being on time was one of those things Mr. King valued a good deal.

It was now 6:45, and there had been nothing. No message, no call, no knock at the door.

“Fuck it.” I shrugged and pulled the zipper down on the back of my dress.

I gave up on Mr. King showing up. It was time to order a pizza, finish the last of the ice cream, and hit up the online job boards.

I took another shower to turn my styled hair back into its natural form and wash the makeup away.

Black yoga pants and a faded black tee were my pajamas for the night as I waited for the knock of the pizza guy while submitting my résumé to every job that paid enough money to support my mother.

It didn’t even matter if I was qualified for it at this point. I’d learn on the job.

The knock echoed in the small apartment, and I grabbed the last bit of cash from my wallet as I answered the door. Only it wasn’t the pizza guy.

“Mr. King?” I stared at the impeccably dressed man in front of me. “What are you doing here?”

“We had a date,” he answered.

“At six. It’s almost eight.” I shrugged.

“I’m sorry—”

“It’s fine. I’ll see you tomorrow,” I said and closed the door.

I heard him growl before he walked away, and I leaned my back against the door, sliding down until I was sitting.

I was still detoxing from Tate. That’s why I was having such a difficult time staying within the lines. It would take some time, but I’d get used to it.

~I have to get used to this. It’s not real. It’s just a name and a piece of paper.~

I jumped when there was another knock. This time, I checked the peephole before opening the door to claim my pizza.

“This, I’m used to,” I said out loud. “Eating pizza alone at an unusually late hour, followed by ice cream and TV and delving into the pit of unemployment. ~This~ I can handle.”

~So why does it feel so empty?~

***

I stopped by King Industries with breakfast and met the brand-new assistant.

She was a plastic kind of pretty that tried way too hard to be irresistible. Brittle bleach-blonnde hair, enough makeup to make a clown look bare, surgical boobs pushed toward the heavens, clothes straining to hold.

“Oh. You must be from the front desk,” she tittered with a clearly overdone, I’m-better-than-you smile. “I’ll take that into Mr. King.”

“That’s not how this is going to work… What’s your name?” I asked.

“Candy.” She smiled tightly.

“Well, Candy, when ~I~ bring something in, I take it all the way to the man himself.” I shot an equally plastic smile at her as I went right into the office without knocking.

“The budget is more than enough to cover the cost of the better material, so why is this even a question?” He was grumbling as he rubbed his temple.

I smiled when he looked up, and he grimaced and gestured to the couch as Candy came into the office, giving me a haughty glare like she was about to witness me getting yelled at.

“Just use the better materials and stop bickering like children,” he snapped and slammed the phone to its cradle. “What do you want, Mandy?”

She sputtered, trying to find her words, and I let her suffer the growing irritated scowl on Mr. King’s face.

I’d been on the receiving end of a few of those when I first started, and it was nerve-racking until I’d built up a tolerance to it.

“I think she meant to stop me from having breakfast with you,” I supplied.

“Never stop Emerald from coming in whenever she wants,” he said in a cold, gruff tone as he stood. “Do you need help packing?”

“That depends on how soon you want me to move in.” I smiled as he came to join me on the couch.

“Yesterday,” he grunted as he took the breakfast sandwich I made for him, kissing my cheek.

“Tate,” I gasped with a smile. “We have an audience.”

“Get out,” he said roughly, not looking away from me.

“So when do I need to be packed and moved in?” I asked, taking a bite.

“I can have the movers out tomorrow,” he said.

“I don’t need movers. I don’t have much I can’t live without, so I’ll just get my car from Lance.” I shrugged.

“I’m sorry about last night,” he said.

“Doesn’t matter. Do I need a permit or something to park my car in the garage after Lance goes back on tour?” I asked.

“Just let Yuri know which is yours.” He sighed and put his sandwich down. “I didn’t mean to stand you up like that.”

“It’s not like it meant anything, so it’s fine,” I replied. “Do I need to bring towels, sheets, things like that?”

“No,” he said quietly.

“Toothbrush, toiletries, and clothes. Got it.” I nodded and wrapped my sandwich up, suddenly not hungry. “I’ll see you later.”

“I’ll be there on time tonight,” he said.

“Sorry, Mr. King. Not tonight,” I said as I wiped my mouth and stood up.

“Can you not call me that?” He sighed.

“I’ll let you know when I’m on my way tomorrow with my things.” I ignored his request and threw my unfinished breakfast away.

“Emerald,” he said.

“Yes, Mr. King?”

“Nothing,” he sighed heavily. “Never mind.”

I nodded and left the office to go apply in person at some of the other listed jobs before stopping for lunch and calling Lance.

“Em,” he answered.

“I need my car for a few days,” I said. “Do you mind taking the stuff out of the trunk? I need as much room as I can get back there for boxes.”

“Boxes?”

“Can you meet me at the apartment?” I ignored him.

That was quickly becoming my way of dealing with things I didn’t want to deal with. Ignore and keep going like it was never said.

Lay down the lines and remember Kindergarten classes about staying inside the lines. They meant when coloring, but it applied to my life now.

“I’m not far from King Industries. I’ll just drop the keys off to you,” he said.

“I’m not there right now. I’m currently on Grand, heading to Main because it’s easier to get a cab there,” I said, weaving between the people on the sidewalk.

“Okay. I’ll be there in about ten minutes,” he said.

I got to the apartment in five, so I started sorting through the fridge while I waited.

“Hey,” Lance said.

“Hey. Do you mind taking this to Mom’s?” I asked, bagging the last of the groceries I wouldn’t need now.

“What are you going to eat?” he asked, looking in the now-empty fridge.

“I’m moving in with Tate.” I shrugged. “Pretty sure he has groceries, so this would just go to waste. Now that you’re staying with Mom, she’ll need more food there anyhow.”

“I’m sorry, Em,” he said, shaking his head. “I know I should trust you to make your own choices and be an adult, but I think you being with him is a mistake.”

“I appreciate the concern, Lance, but you really don’t have a leg to stand on with this,” I said, picking up the three plastic bags of food and handing them to him.

“You have no idea who I am anymore. That’s been made painfully obvious this past week. You know Tate even less.

“Consider your big brother duty fulfilled, but your opinion means jack shit. Tell Mom I’ll try to come see her sometime this week.”

“That’s it? Just push me out and be done with me?”

“I can’t be done with you since you’re my brother, but I don’t have to let you back in just to cut me deeper next time,” I said. “Lock up when you leave. I need to go get boxes.”

I took the keys and took the one for the door off, dropping it on the table.

“This isn’t you, Emerald,” he called. “Who is this person that used to be my sister?”

“I’m who I need to be now.” I shrugged as I left, leaving the door open.

~Why is it so hard to stay inside these lines where it’s safe?~

***

I folded the flaps of the box shut and carried it down to my car. That was the last of them. I had three medium boxes of clothes, one for toiletries and two for keepsakes and crap.

I had already taken everything I wasn’t going to bring with me to a donation center.

Now, the only thing left was to drive to the penthouse after I informed the landlord I wouldn’t be renewing my lease in a few weeks and that I had left the furniture.

I was waiting for the elevator when a green paper rose popped up in front of my face. I immediately knew who it was since it was the telltale irony that she loved.

“Macy!” I gasped, spinning and hugging the heck out of my best friend.

“Hey,” she said, giving me a sad and weak smile.

“Oh no. What happened?” I asked her, hooking our arms as we stepped into the waiting box.

“It was great, Em.” She sniffed. “He was great. Perfect. The sex god, the sex! Everything was great.”

“Until?” I prompted.

“I answered his phone, thinking it was mine. Em, he’s ~married~!” She sobbed as I pulled her down the hall to my mostly empty apartment. “They have ~kids~! How did I end up being a homewrecker? How did I not see it?”

“Oh, Macy.” I rubbed her back and sat with her on the couch. “I’m so sorry.”

“He was perfect. Too perfect. How did I not know something was wrong?”

“You’ve always been so trusting. It’s one of the things I love the most about you,” I said with Macy leaning on my shoulder as she cried.

“~Why~ do I believe them? God, I’m so gullible and naive,” she choked out.

“Being trusting and believing that all people are good isn’t a bad thing, Macy. Dangerous, for reasons a lot like this, but it’s great that you always see the best in people,” I said, rubbing circles on her back.

“Being tricked and taken advantage of? That’s not your fault.”

“I swear if you say there are plenty of fish in the sea, I’m going to punch you in the face.” She glared at me.

“Well, there are a lot of fish in the sea, but they’re all fucking anchovies,” I said with conviction.

Macy gaped before she started laughing.

“Occasionally, you’ll get one that’s okay. Like a tuna. Not the most appealing, but good for you. Very rarely one of us lonely fisherwomen will hook something magical and amazing. Like a narwhal. Horny bastards.”

I squeezed her shoulder as she sat up and wiped her face, laughing hysterically. “You know, that’s actually a tooth?”

“Toothy bastards.” She laughed.

“Oh god. I can see it now!” I laughed. “He’s going to eat you out and you’ll be all, ‘Fine! But no biting!’ Oh, we are ~so~ going to hell.”

When we finally stopped laughing, we just sat on the couch in a comfortable silence for a moment.

“I hate anchovies,” she said.

“Who doesn’t?” I snorted.

“Freaks and weirdos.” She giggled. “So… Where is your stuff?”

“I’m moving.” I shrug.

“You dodged that pretty fast. Who are you moving in with?” she asked, going to the bathroom to blow her nose.

“My boss, who isn’t my boss anymore, but Lance doesn’t know that part yet, but former boss is also now my boyfriend,” I answered when she came back and flopped down next to me.

“Okay, I was only gone for three weeks. What happened?”

“We’ve been texting back and forth for eight months or so. Actual, real, and amazing conversations.

“We’ve been dancing around a relationship for a while since I was under contract,” I said when she laid her head on my shoulder again.

“Yeah, you have a couple of months left, right?” she asked.

“Bosshole reared his ugly head and pissed me off. I was done with everything that had to do with the King name.

“I asked to be released from my contract early so I could wash my hands of him.” I snorted. “I was released, but I ended up staying at his place.”

“Such a hussy.” She nudged me in the ribs with her elbow, teasing me. “Why do you sound like you aren’t happy about any of this?”

“I am happy,” I defended, trying to think of a good cover. Macy always could read me. “It’s Mom.”

I told her about what had happened with Mom the past few days while she soaked it all up.

“I’m so sorry, Em.” She held my hand. “I wish there was something I could do to help.”

“It’s okay, Macy. I’ll figure something out.” I squeezed her hand in mine. “So, what are you going to do now?”

“Well, I’m going back to my shit apartment to crash. I haven’t slept in over two days,” she said.

“I’m out of here tomorrow. I’ll let you know when I’m settled, then we can totally have a sleepover, complete with sheet forts and junk food.” I grinned.

“It’s been so long since we’ve done that. Girl, you better get settled fast. I ~need~ some fort time.” She laughed.

“You’d think we would have outgrown this by now.” I smiled as we walked to the door. “But Dad had the best ideas. Go home, Macy. Get some sleep. Throw out the anchovies. Look for a tuna and hope for a narwhal.”

“Narwhal or nothing!” She pumped her fist in the air.

“Crazy ass.” I laughed as she went down the hall to the elevator.

I went to lie down for the last time in this little shithole and sighed as I stretched out on the bed that felt more like a rock than a mattress. My phone chimed from the table beside the bed, and I closed my eyes.

~Don’t cross your lines, Emerald. It’s not real. It’s not real.~

~“Let me in”~ flashed across my phone’s screen. I grabbed the phone and, without bothering to check who it was from, squinted at the message for a bit before it started to make sense.

There was a knock on the door, and I debated answering it or just ignoring it.

I didn’t want to deal with Mr. King right now. I needed to keep licking the wounds I had given myself when I started cutting “Tate” out of my heart. Shockingly, he’d buried himself in there pretty deep in such a short time.

The knock came again, a little more persistent than before. I groaned and threw my blanket off, going to let Mr. King in. Amazingly, it wasn’t who I had expected to be there.

“Vince?”

“We need to talk,” he said.