Page 16 of Bridesmaid By Chance
“I might be young in years, but I’m old in experience,” I say, even though this is my first real job out of college. Experience doesn’t always come professionally. Experience comes through the trials and tribulations of life, and a lot of the time, we have to grow up sooner than we expected. That was me and my siblings. We had no choice but to growup quicker than we wanted. That’s what happens when you don’t have parents but rather a grandmother whose patience was lacking.
“Okay, Sloane,” he says on a scoff.
That’s all it takes.
That derisive look.
That huff in his voice.
That disbelief.
The professional veil has been lowered, and I can feel the real me crawl right out into the room, ready for a fight.
I set my notepad and pen on the coffee table, and I place my hands on my lap, staring him down. “I don’t appreciate you talking to me like I’m a child, Hudson.”
It’s the first time I haven’t called him Mr. Hopper in the office, and I think it throws him, because he blinks a few times, looking confused.
“I’m…I’m not trying to talk to you like a child.”
“Well, you are, and it’s insulting. If you want to make sure you don’t piss off my brother, then don’t piss me off. Don’t act like I’m some young dick-around who doesn’t know what they’re doing, who can’t stand up for themselves. Who can’t make a decision about my work life without worrying it might make my brother mad.”
He sits taller now. “Dick-around. I never called you a dick-around.”
“You didn’t have to. You’re implying it.”
“No, I’m not.”
“Yes, you are,” I argue, holding my ground.
“I was just saying you’re young.”
“Yeah, well you’re old, but you don’t see me handing you aspirin and Icy Hot every time your bones crack.” The beast has been unleashed, and right now, all I see is red.
His eyes narrow. “I’m not that old.”
“You’re thirty-five,” I counter, throwing his ageism right back at him.
“Yeah, that’s not fucking old. Still in my prime.”
“Well, didn’t seem like it today,” I say, the words flying out before I can stop them.
“Excuse me?” he asks, leaning forward now. Oops, kind of forgot for a second that he’s my boss. “What exactly do you mean by that?”
Look what you’ve done now, gotten yourself into some trouble with that mouth of yours.It was bound to come out at some point. I’ve always been mouthy, speaking my opinions without consideration. When I took this job, I told myself I was going to tamp down that side of me, that I was going to keep it together and act professional. But consider me triggered because the real Sloane has arrived.
Now, I can either turn back into the demure girl that said yes to everything, or I can move forward with my true self and show Hudson Hopper who I really am—a strong, opinionated individual with quick wit and sass that can bring anyone to their knees.
What do I really have to lose at this point? He needs me more in this situation than I need him. What’s he going to do? Fire me? Good luck finding a bridesmaid.
So chin tilted up, I say, “I’d hardly suggest you were a man in his prime today. You resembled a weaselly suck-up, looking to score a deal.”
His eyes narrow, and I realize that maybe I could have left out the name-calling. Perhaps such ability to hold back will come with age…how ironic.
Looking perturbed, he replies, “That’s not sucking up. That’s what it takes to build business relationships, something you clearly have no experience in.”
Oh, he went there.
“So what you’re saying is that in order to succeed in business, you have to go around kissing ass? Let me write that down, since I’m learning from a real professional.” I pick up my notebook and in giant letters, I write and say, “Suck ass. Got it.”
