Please ask your boss, Mr. Garrett West if he can PayPal or CashApp me twenty-one dollars by six o’clock so that I may treat the woman who advises him daily to dinner.
Tell him that I will wire him the money back.
My cash app code is $joshh5, and my PayPal is JoshHHM
I appreciate his discretion in this matter.
What the fuck? “Go ahead and give it to him.” I end the call and change Savannah’s name in my phone once more.
S. Grey (Fuck This Boyfriend, She Can Do Better)
SIX
Savannah
This Christmas
Manhattan, New York
“I can’t believe you pulled your boss’s name for the Secret Santa tradition.” My boyfriend, Joshua, laughs at my misery over dinner. “Do you have any idea what you’re going to get him yet?”
“Airlines don’t sell one-way trips to Hell, so I’ll have to look for something else,” I say. “I feel like we’re up and down more than we usually are, you know?”
He nods in agreement, but he doesn’t know the half of it.
“It’s crazy,” he says. “Sometimes I feel like you two are the ones in a relationship. I’m sure I know a lot more about him than he knows about me.”
“I’m sorry,” I say, clasping his hand atop the table. “It’s just—”
“Holiday prep season and it’s stressful as hell.” He smiles and gives my hand a soft squeeze. “I know, babe. I know. Did you taste your rice yet?”
“No.” I pick up my chopsticks and try not to look disappointed.
We’re currently sitting in some hole in the wall Chinese food place in New Jersey, a far cry from the “super upscale SoHo” place he previously promised.
I can’t get too upset with him, though.
He’s living the startup life as an app developer and funds are tight. I know and believe that it’ll pay off someday.
Unlike Garrett West, he knows what its like to struggle, what it’s like to live paycheck to paycheck, and he doesn’t—
I stop thinking once I see him stuff a few salt and pepper packets into his coat pocket.
“What are you doing, Joshua?”
“I ran out of seasoning at my house.” He lowers his voice. “You wouldn’t believe the cost of things in Los Angeles. That’s why I asked the waitress for some extra parmesan on the side. I brought a few Ziploc bags for the occasion.”
I blink. “I can buy some seasoning online and have it shipped to you.”
“No, that’s okay,” he says. “I would never ask you to buy anything for me. Anyway, back to your boss. You could always write a letter of all the things you hate about him and wrap it in some pretty paper. That might suffice as a gift.”
“I’ve given him that for his past two birthdays.”
“Oh.” He shrugs. “Well, just don’t put any effort into it. Give him something that shows you really don’t care about anything, except the paycheck.”
“Good thinking.” I place a napkin in my lap. “Let’s talk about something else. How was your flight?”
“Good, no turbulence,” he says. “Did you get my flowers?”
“Yes.” I smile at the thought of them. “Everyone on my floor was super impressed with the arrangement.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.” I nod. “I mean, not that it matters, but they didn’t set you back too far, did they? They look even more expensive than the ones you sent me last week. Those were amazing as well, by the way.”
He raises his eyebrow, confused. “I didn’t send you flowers last week.”
“Yeah, you did.” I pull out my phone and start scrolling through my pictures. “I missed your Skype call, and you sent me red roses with the little ‘No need to apologize’ card. Hold on, I have to find it.”
“What type of flowers did you get today from me?”
“Eight bouquets of red and white roses.” I smile. “The florist said they were her bestselling blooms, and they’re sitting at the center of my desk.” My voice trails off once I see the look on his face.
“Eight bouquets of bestselling roses?” His eyes are narrowed, and his jaw is clenched. “Please tell me that you’re not this fucking dense, Savannah.”
“I really do love your flowers,” I say. “They’re gorgeous.”
“Okay, so you are this dense,” He shakes his head and signals for the check. “I should’ve seen this a long time ago.”
“Would you prefer me to tell you that I hate them?”
“No, I’d prefer for you to tell me that you’re fucking Garrett West, but try not to cause a scene while you say it.” He hisses. “I mean, it’s so obvious, and I’m so foolish. You probably picked his name on purpose, so you can get with him on your trip that you supposedly loathe.”
“I’m not sleeping with my boss.” I feel my blood beginning to boil. “And you’re making one hell of an assumption for no reason.”
“No reason?” He laughs maniacally, and the conversations around us fall into whispers. “No reason? Oh, okay.”