4. Heads Will Roll

CHAPTER 4

HEADS WILL ROLL

YEAH YEAH YEAHS

I don't stop. I rush back to the office, even though Kennedy complains the entire way that I'm going too fast and her feet hurt.

Blue—such a pretty blue. It's not like the sky or a baby blue, but steel, almost grey. Sad.

"Oh, man!" Dani yells out as I barge through the door. "Lex Luthor, you have the absolute worst timing, I swear!" Our receptionist announces the obvious as I stumble back into the office. She sees me juggling things and runs around the desk to help while eyeing the utterly clueless Kennedy as she parades in.

"Shit, did I miss something? Did Sam need something?" I check my watch. The download should still have another few minutes, so it shouldn't be that.

"No. The guy I've been trying to hook you up with for fucking months was here." She takes a few things until I can get a better grip. "Tall, handsome, great ass—ringing any bells?"

I roll my eyes and ignore her, hooking the keys around my finger and adjusting my grip on…life.

"He said he was coming back. Please let me introduce you to him," she begs, batting her eyes like that will win me over somehow. "Oh, and I left those new prints by your desk. Sam's been waiting on them, but that's way less important."

"Sam's waiting on them, and that's less important than you getting me to meet some dude? Silva, your priorities are fucked."

"Uhh, yeah!"

"What dude?" Kennedy asks, not looking up from whatever she's posting online.

Dani has been determined to find me someone to date. I told her a million times that I wasn't interested and didn't have the time. I've dated a little on and off since moving here fifteen years ago, but nothing ever lasted past a few dates. I've resorted to quick and easy hookups through apps, but that's rarely ever worth it or satisfying. The people here are far too shallow or next-level creepy; there's no in-between that I've found. Sometimes, I wonder if I even fit into the Los Angeles scene. I still go out for the pointless one-night stand occasionally, and I have a drawer full of electric boyfriends who don't complain and do a far better job than any real man.

Besides, real guys eventually learn who I am. When they find out I'm the stepdaughter of the preacher for one of the largest evangelical churches in Southern California, shit always goes downhill. Either they're super turned off by who I am because it must make me a prude—or, worse—they're super turned on by the idea of fucking me in the church. Some even assume I'm rich.

I've never understood the whole religious lifestyle, it's never fit who I am. When I need to, I can pretend—for my mother's sake. Also, their church is modern, so there's no altar or confessional to get kinky and defile. I wouldn't necessarily say no to a little fun in the church for the right person. Maybe I've read too many fanfics.

I don't even know if evangelicals do the whole confessional thing, and you lose a little bit of the dirty, kinky, fun side of things when it's just a stage with a podium.

"So can I?" Dani's voice pulls me out of my inner ramblings.

"What?"

"Can I introduce you to him? Come on, he's really cute. You sure you're okay?"

"She's busy daydreaming about the guy who was drooling all over her; we'll need a bucket and a mop if they ever meet again," Kennedy cracked. "Actually, I may go back there because I would climb that man like a fucking tree."

"Kennedy, there aren't many men in Los Angeles you wouldn't climb," I hit back.

"Rude. I have limits!"

"Yeah, but have you actually found any of them yet?" Dani cackles at her joke so hard she flops back down into her chair. "So, tell me about this mystery man!"

I nod toward the pretty box with the bow on her desk, still trying to ignore her. "Please tell me it's not your birthday, and I forgot, and if it is, take this cookie as a down payment on a real birthday present. Actually, take it either way since it's for you."

"Not my birthday, but yes, please!" She snags the bag with the cookie and holds up the pastry box. "This is what I'm trying to set you up with, girl!"

"An empty pastry box?"

"No, the delicious man who delivers the hot pastries! Wait…you know what I mean!"

"So he's an Uber Eats driver? Less hot," Kennedy deadpans.

"He's not an Uber Eats driver, you moron. He still brings me delicious pastries when he comes by, and we're just friends." She dramatically clutches the box to her chest. "Like, what would he do for someone he was banging? He probably eats pu?—"

"I don't want a guy who buys gifts for you ," Kennedy points out as she sips her iced coffee. "Wait, is he rich? I could make an exception."

"Shut up, Kennedy." Dani rolls her eyes, then cackles again. "Shit! In thirty seconds, we found two boundaries you actually do have!"

"Whatever. I don't know why you're wasting your time trying to hook her up." Kennedy flips her hair annoyingly. "Don't you, like, have to marry Jesus or some guy your mom picks out for you or something?"

"I…what? What the fuck does that even mean?" I ask, shaking my head. Seriously, I need this girl to cut way down on the caffeine. She found some flyers I made for my mother on the copy machine a week ago and hasn't let it go since.

"Wait, does all this mean you're a virgin or, like, you were born again or something? I thought you made out with that guy at that party?"

"Kennedy, how are you actually this dumb?" Dani asks as I continue to stare, dumbfounded by the stupidity.

"Although I saw your stepdad on TV the other day. More like step Daddy ! Right?" She makes a terrible growling noise and moves her hand to mimic a big cat's paw. "There's another man I'd climb like a tree."

"Inappropriate, Kennedy!" Dani balls up a piece of paper and throws it at her. "To be fair, even Jesus would approve of the photographer you desperately need to meet."

"Too late. She's got the guy in the coffee shop now."

"KENNEDY! I'm seriously going to throw a stapler at you next! Wait, what guy in the coffee shop?"

"Whatever. Look, if Lexi doesn't want to be dicked down by the hot Uber pastry guy, pass him my way."

I'm saved from the stupidity when Kennedy's phone dings. I finally say, "I'm going back to work. This is giving me a headache."

"Hey," Kennedy stops me, reading her text. "The guy at CyberSales wants to know if we're coming to the industry mixer tonight. Do you guys want to go? There's free booze until eleven and food."

"Is that the one at the new brewery?" Dani asked, grabbing her phone to look. "Oh, it is; come on, Lex, you can fucking WALK there from your place. I could crash after, and we can watch those stupid movies you love."

"I'll think about it. Which actually means I'll think about a way to get out of my prior commitment." I used my butt to push open the door to the creative department, trying to run away from this conversation. "It's a solid maybe, okay?"

"Come on! It's a work function and you can be out by like eight. You need a few drinks to deal with your mom, anyway." I wave, wishing the door would close just a little faster. She knows about my life outside of work and how crazy my family is. "What does Jesus need on a Thursday night from a hot single chick living in the middle of Los Angeles's art district?" She yells as the door creeps to a close. "I'll be at your place at five!"

I stop just inside the door and take a moment to soak in the blessed silence. It's been a long week, and I just want it to be over. I take a few deep, calming breaths and head to my cubicle, dumping my stuff onto my desk while not spilling my coffee.

Kennedy clamors in behind me and bee-lines it to the new guy's desk. Her fake giggle grates on my last remaining nerve, and I'm sure I hear her invite him out to the mixer. Good, maybe there will be enough guys to keep her company, so she leaves us alone. With any luck, the guy Dani wants to set me up with will get sucked into the Kennedy vortex and leave Dani and I to do all the drinking and dancing we can.

I slide into my chair, enter my password, and open up a file I'd been working on all morning.

I'm playing around with color variations when my mind drifts back to the coffee shop and how weird the timing of all that was. One minute, I'm breaking up with Marc the Narc, and then I'm looking into the prettiest steel-blue eyes I've ever seen. I snicker and shake my head. I don't know why I'm bothering to daydream about him. I'll never see him again, and I don't have time for that right now. Kennedy can try her shot with him if she wants to go hunt him down.

Sometimes, I wish I did have time for things like meaningful relationships. My dating life has been one train wreck after another. I doubt I could land anyone who looked like that guy, and if I did, he'd be a dick. Those soft, sad eyes and a pretty smile, though. Maybe I should have given him my number. He's probably married with three kids and cheats on his wife. Besides, even if he is single and interested, it would lead to heartbreak and sadness—especially once he met my family. Daydreaming is fun, though.

"Oh good, you're back!" Sam yells out as he jogs down the stairs. He's a health nut, and even though his office and the meeting rooms are four flights up, he insists on jogging up and down the stairs whenever he needs to talk to us. Some days, I wonder if he knows how the speakerphones work.

"Yeah, went to my dealer next door," I say without looking away from my screen. I hold up the flash drive for him, and he laughs as he sits on the edge of my desk. "Dani left the prints here. Is that a new project I'm taking on or just because my desk is the first one you hit?" I point him to the large envelope sitting beside him.

"Awesome. Let me see what we're working with." He rips open the envelope as I continue to work. "I'll be putting you on this job since it's a higher priority."

"Do you want me to stay on the branding for the weed company at the same time? No big deal either way."

"We'll put the cannabis company on the back burner for right now; the owner's still deciding on the name. I'll update that in the system tomorrow."

He flips through the prints, stopping on a few to give them a little extra attention, then sticks a business card to the edge of my monitor. Barton Photography . Boring name, but it's to the point—terrible logo, though.

"Should have used Silian Rail."

"Huh?"

"Nothing, a movie quote for super nerds."

"Another papyrus joke I don't understand? I don't think you've worked with much of Barton's stuff yet; he's good and a good guy. The website and password to download the shots and anything he didn't print off are on that card. Keep it with you in case you work offsite."

"Yeah, ‘cause I do that all the time. I'll put those on the client database." I turn back to the computer and then look back at Sam. "What about the tasks already on my radar?"

"I might hand your open tasks off to Kennedy to close out, at least the ones where the design is approved. The rest will go to the new guy to give him a turn in your crazy layouts." He turns and looks across the room at where Kennedy is continuing her flirty giggle that could peel paint off the walls. Sam rolls his eyes so hard that his hat nearly falls off.

"Kennedy, do you have that presentation done yet? Because if you don't, I'd appreciate it if you take your social life off-hours and stop scaring the new guy."

"God! I'm just trying to make him feel welcome!"

"And I'm just trying to run a business, not a dating site."

I cover my mouth to hide the giggle as I watch Kennedy stalk back to her desk. This is why I love Sam. He's cool enough to let us get away with a lot, and if one person is ruining it, he doesn't let it affect how he treats the rest of the team. He's right on the cusp of sixty, so it's a surprising mentality. Then again, he grew up around the Los Angeles art scene.

"So, what is the new project?" I ask, taking another drink and tucking the business card into my desk drawer.

"We're creating a multi-part presentation and trade show graphics for an event they're hosting next month and a bigger conference in three months. After that, they want a boatload of other work, assuming they like your work."

"Our work."

"Speaking of, the first one is a tight turnaround, and I know you're going to hate this, but you can't fly solo on this one." He holds up his hands. "Don't worry, the help isn't for the graphics. There's a lot of information, and they have a thicker brand guidebook than a phone book. They're also firmly against using stock photography." He stops, narrowing his eyes at me through his round lenses. "Do you even know what a phone book is?"

"Jesus, Sam. I'm not Kennedy-young. I know what a phone book is and how to use one. They're for boosting kids up in their seats, right?"

"Ha. Ha. I forgot you're older than you look. No offense." He checks his watch and then taps out a quick message on his phone. "Okay, meet us upstairs in the big conference room in five. The freelancer is here, and I want to review assignments, timelines, and expectations. That way, if either of you needs more help, we're ahead of it."

He hops off the desk, envelope under his arm, and looks at my screen.

"That's a really nice color for that logo. I wouldn't have thought to go that way with the blue-grey, but I think they'll love it."

"Yeah, thanks." I stare at my screen. I hadn't even been paying attention when I picked this color earlier, but I could see exactly where my head was when I did. "It, uhm, came to me at the coffee shop earlier. Total surprise."

I wait for Sam to leave before I let out a long breath and drop my head to the desk. Overtime and working with a freelancer. Great. This is going to suck.

I'm already getting enough heat from my mother about how little time I spend with her. She keeps pressuring me to come to services and begging me to meet the nice boys she thinks would help me become a better woman. Not. Happening. Her version of a better woman would make a Stepford Wife seem inadequate.

There's some big conference of crazies coming up soon, and my stepfather wants to make a ‘tremendous impression'. He's an asshole, but he's not dumb, and he understands that marketing is what brings the money in. It was supposed to be a few handouts and a poster, but now it's snowballed into a second job. Unpaid at that.

I know I'm juggling too much and putting too much pressure on myself, but I like to keep people happy.

"Oh well, goodbye to my meager social life. My liver will probably thank me for that," I mumble. Then I get a message from Dani. I don't bother to open it because it's just her telling me to go to the party tonight.

I've already decided I'm going, no matter what my mother or anyone else says. Now, I just need an excuse.

I take another deep breath, plaster on my happy, smiling face, grab my stuff, and head up to the conference room.