“Mom thinks Vanessa is going to get voted off this week.”
Zoey had been an addition to our house ever since she lost her mom to a car accident in middle school. Soon after we started weekly rituals, movie nights, pajama parties, and it’d stuck even ten years later.
“No, he likes her boobs too much. I’m guessing it’s Jill,” said Zoey.
Mom let out a loud sigh that blasted through the speaker in my phone. “But Jill is so sweet.”
I eyed the phone while Zoey smirked. “Mom. Since when did that earn points with Derek?”
The line went silent for a moment, then she added, “Good point.”
“Okay, shh, it’s starting!” Zoey whisper-yelled.
The most sacred of all Taylor family traditions was Bachelor night. I’d only missed it once, and that was when I’d been in the ER with appendicitis. And even then, my mom had DVRed it, and we watched it as soon as I got home from the surgery.
“How was Dictator Jackson today?”
I shot Zoey a look. I hadn’t told my mom about the incidents at work because I didn’t want her to worry. She had enough on her plate. She didn’t need to hear about another man with control issues. She’d already had enough of that with Dad. When he wasn’t off, you know, having a secret life on the side. Although Jackson had one up on my dad because I highly doubted Mr. Comb Over was living a double life with two separate families. The guy probably didn’t even have a girlfriend.
In some ways, though, Brogan (barring the obvious attraction) reminded me a lot of my father. He had all the rules and hardcore policies. He was charismatic, just like my father had been…to one too many women, apparently. I’d just like to understand what made a person like that tick. Then again, if he really was anything like my dad, I should stay far, far away. Nothing but pain could come from that type of man.
My mom chuckled. “Who’s Dictator Jackson? Does he have a handlebar mustache?”
I eyed Zoey, signaling to keep her mouth shut. “My coworker. Complete d-bag.”
“Eh, screw him. If he’s that much of a jerk, he probably won’t last long in the company,” said Mom.
Yeah, not so sure about that. Jackson seemed so far up Brogan’s ass, he could be medically diagnosed as a polyp. “Mm-hmm.”
Zoey got up and made her way to the kitchen while Mom fired more questions my way. “Is your boss nice? You haven’t talked much about him these past couple weeks.”
Did it count as nice that he said nothing when I stared at his crotch? Or that, in fact, he was very nice, both on the eyes and personality-wise. So much so, that my shower head was getting a lot more action lately.
Mom didn’t need to hear about my boss and coworker woes, though. I needed her to be as stress free as possible, and I had Zoey to vent to in the meantime while she went through chemo.
Before I could answer, Derek just promised Jill she was getting a rose in tonight’s ceremony. “What a rat bastard. He’s so lying through his teeth,” I said.
We managed to make it through the whole episode without Mom needing an emergency bathroom break. Her intense nausea seemed to taper off a few days after chemo treatments, thankfully. As soon as the episode ended, I promised to call her after her chemo appointment in a few days, and hung up.
Zoey turned to me, almost tipping the bowl of popcorn sitting between us on the couch. “What was up with that earlier?”
“With what?” I popped a piece of popcorn in my mouth and stared at the TV.
“You not wanting to talk about Mr. Epic Douchebag. Mama Taylor is usually privy to those juicy details.”
“You know how Mom gets. One whiff that I’m having trouble at work and then there’s a million questions. She’s already stressed enough with her treatments.”
“Secret’s safe with me.” Zoey pretended to zip her lips and throw away the key. “But what are you going to do about him?”
“What can I do? I just need to not screw up long enough to prove my worth there.”
She nodded.
“Is that dog hair?” She picked a hair off my knee and examined it.
I rolled my eyes. “Bruce hair. Don’t even get me started.”
“Bruce isn’t a coworker is he?”
I huffed out a laugh. “No. Bruce is half horse, half leaky faucet.”
“Jitters will be jealous that you’re fraternizing with other species.”
Zoey’s cat was currently curled up on the windowsill, looking at the city skyline. She’d promptly ignored me when I walked in, but I attributed that to her usual lack of shits given about anyone but Zoey.
Zoey pulled out her laptop from her leather satchel and opened an Excel spreadsheet with a rainbow of colors and formulas. It dawned on me that I hadn’t even bothered to ask about her day. As soon as I breezed through the door, it had been the Lainey Show. Really, I was winning in the friendship category this week. “How’s your workload? Any new clients?”