Chapter 10: Chapter Ten

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RAE

Have you ever come to a horrible realization in a public setting where you’re absolutely helpless? Your stomach plummets. Your vision fades out. Your hearing begins to dwindle. And all you can think about is whatever you just realized.

Why do I ask? Because that’s happening to me, right now, in the middle of the Jade Agency weekly team meeting.

My camera is on my desk. In my cubicle. Well, the cubicle where I reside. I don’t own it. You know, the one at Quincy Ventures, where Taylor and Michael work.

So, you know, at the workplace of people who would very much like to damage my career to keep me the fuck away from Logan Quincy.

I’m in a room with twenty other people. I can’t bolt out. JA hired me because I somehow managed to convince them (and myself) that I’m a responsible photographer.

Leaving my camera—the one with photos from our client’s confidential meetings—behind when I’m not in the building is the epitome of an irresponsible photographer.

Not the look I’m going for.

I force my attention onto Caroline, who’s introducing a new graphic designer to the team. He’s straight out of college and contracted to a major retailer to help them with an ad campaign.

I work for a great company. I mean, who lets entry-level employees work for department stores they’re too poor to shop at?

I’m a photographer and have steady employment, a decent salary, and a great boss. And I might have ruined it. I probably ruined it.

I peek at the clock over Caroline’s shoulder. 4:55. My camera has been there for nearly three hours. Definitely gone.

Finally, the clock hits 4:59, and everyone starts shuffling and moving ever-so-slowly from their seats. Nobody is in a rush, of course.

They didn’t leave their shit behind. They have their lives together, unlike the weak link in the photography department named Rachel Jean Olson.

Shawn taps my shoulder. “Are you alright?”

“Wha-yes. Yeah, I’m fine. Why?”

“You looked stressed out for a minute there.” He smiles sympathetically. “A long day at Quincy will do that to you.”

I could probably tell Shawn; he’s not the type to rat me out, and we’ve become allies during our tenure at the hostile workplace named Quincy Ventures.

However, Caroline is still in the room, and I can’t admit that I forgot my camera at the client’s office in front of her.

She’s nice and more understanding than she should be, but pity and talent will only get me so far. Leaving a camera behind, unattended, is a big fucking deal.

I open the Uber app as soon as we’re out the conference room and punch in the address for Quincy Ventures.

“Trying to spend more quality time with Taylor?” comes Shawn’s voice.

I freeze. “I, uh, forgot something. I just need to… No, not to see Taylor.”

Shawn’s face takes on the guilty expression he gets when he makes me uncomfortable, which isn’t terribly often. He’s easier to talk to than most people, but his boldness sometimes throws me off.

He isn’t ashamed to look at my phone over my shoulder and let me know that he did exactly that.

“Do you want a ride there? It’s on my way home,” he offers.

I’d much rather take an Uber, but Uber means waiting, and desperate times call for desperate measures. “That would be amazing. Thank you so much, Shawn. Thanks. Thank you.”

“Of course. You ready?”

No, but I tell him I am.

The silent, crowded elevator is the perfect place to brainstorm conversation topics for the five-minute drive to QV from JA. I decide on one: Shawn. People love to talk about themselves.

They’re very forgiving if you ask awkward questions or stumble over your words if they’re the subject. I think it’s a flattery thing.

It’s always nice when someone shows interest in your life, even when it’s the weird, shy photography chick.

“How’s wedding planning going?” I ask as soon as Shawn unlocks his car.

It’s the perfect question. Shawn proposed to his girlfriend—fiancée now, I suppose—a couple of months ago. That means they’ve had enough time to think about the wedding and start on preliminary plans, but a lot is still up in the air.

Which means there’s ~a lot~ to talk about.

“I’ll show you pictures of the venue we’re thinking of tomorrow,” Shawn promises when we pull up to the curb.

“I can’t wait to see them! Thanks, Shawn. See you tomorrow.”

If someone was going to pluck my camera off my desk, it’s gone already, but I still power-walk through the lobby and jam my finger into the “15” button way too forcefully.

Half the cubicles are still occupied, but no one gives me attention. Everyone is fixated on their screens, probably desperate to finish whatever they’re doing so they can go home.

Can’t say I blame them. Zoe made spinach ravioli, and it’s definitely getting cold.

I squeeze my eyes shut as I approach my cubicle and breathe a massive sigh of relief when I open them again. My livelihood remains on my desk. “Oh, thank ~God~,” I mumble.

“What’s got you so fired up, Rae?”

If there’s any voice that can burst my I’m-still-employed bubble of happiness, it’s that one. The one that belongs to Michael Pomeroy.