Before I Ever Met You

At least I look the part. I didn’t have a lot of money to spend on office clothes, and while I know that the company is pretty casual, I wanted to make a good first impression. I’m going into the job with an uphill battle already.

Luckily, Forever 21 and H&M are life-savers for the financially challenged, even though I have to go up a few sizes to accommodate my size-10 curves. I borrowed my mother’s car, took it downtown, and braved Vancouver’s busy Robson Street and mall, searching for enough outfits to last me the first week.

For today’s first impression I wiggled myself into a grey pencil skirt and a blue and white pinstriped dress shirt, paired with grey kitten heels. The skirt shows off my ass and hips in a good way, nipping in at the waist (though Spanx would be nice), the shirt somehow manages to keep my boobs streamlined and under control. To complete the outfit my mom gave me her Louis Vuitton Neverfull bag to use, since my only handbag is a denim piece of shit from Old Navy I snagged on sale years ago.

I decided to keep it simple with my face: tinted moisturizer, used the only tube of tinted lip balm I own, and loads of mascara that highlights my eyes. My hair, on the other hand, is a hopeless case. Long and blah-brown, I haven’t had the time (nor money, nor expertise) to get it cut or colored in a long time, so I just pull it back into a bun. My mother has been dying to get me into a salon ever since I moved back home two weeks ago, but it’s been low on my priority list.

Though now, I can kind of see her point. I sigh, wishing I had lip liner to define my lips underneath the balm, and decide I look good enough. Pretty and polished, but not enough to turn heads or seem like I’m trying too hard. Anyway, I’m sure the moment I step into that office it won’t really matter what the hell I look like. I imagine everyone has heard that I’m the boss’s estranged daughter.

Yeah. My first day at work and it’s for my father’s film company. Which isn’t a bad thing per se, just that the circumstances that brought me here have been difficult, to say the least. It’s been a hell of a month. Actually, the last few years have been hell. The only saving grace in my life has been my seven-year-old son, Tyson, who has somehow braved the worst with me and turned out to be the most mild-mannered and intelligent little boy.

Me, on the other hand, I feel like a complete mess. One moment I’m struggling to make ends meet up in buttfuck nowhere in the northeast corner of British Columbia, Ty’s deadbeat dad Jeff turning to a life of crime and leaving me to work two jobs to support us. The next moment Jeff’s being hauled off to prison and I’m packing up my supremely shitty life and heading back south to the city with my tail between my legs. I’m just lucky that my parents took us in, and even more lucky that my father found a job opportunity for me. They might be family, but our relationship has been nothing but distant and strained for almost a decade.

Of course I’m not working directly for my father. He already has an executive assistant, Patty Le, who has worked with him for a long time. My position is as executive assistant to his business partner, William McAlister.

Honestly, I have no idea what to expect, all I know is I’m organized and a quick learner, and if I do a good job I might have a bright future there, providing my boss isn’t a hard-ass, which I don’t think he is. I remember Mr. McAlister from a long time ago, back I was a teenager. Other than having a mild crush on him because he reminded me of some of my favorite actors (Gregory Peck, Montgomery Clift, Cary Grant), he was just my father’s friend and business partner, and would sometimes visit with his gorgeous wife for dinner. He was always exceedingly nice, funny, and very charming.

To be honest, I could use a lot of of nice in my life right now.

“Mom,” Ty calls out softly from behind me.

I turn around and see him standing in the doorframe of the bathroom, wringing his hands together anxiously, his brow furrowed with worry.

My heart squeezes at the sight. He’s been so resilient with the move and all the changes, but I know it’s been really hard on him, and the fact that I’m leaving him to go to work only makes it more difficult.

“Yes Ty?”

“Do you have to go?”

Ugh. My heart is melting all over the place.

I go over to him and drop to my knees, pulling him into a tight hug. “You know I do,” I say into his hair before pulling back. I put my hands on his shoulders. “It will be just like before, but better. Because this time I won’t be working so long or so often. I’m off at five. And you have Grandma to take care of you. Didn’t you want to spend some time with the horses?”

He tries to give me a small smile but fails. “I’m scared of them.”

I sigh, brushing his hair off his face. “You know, when I was your age I was scared of them too. They were so big and I was so small. Smaller than you. But you know, your grandmother is a really good teacher. It’s what she does best. She taught me not to be afraid and, in time, the horses became my friends.” I pause, whispering. “And you know what? If you’re really good, she might teach you about the special magic.”

“Magic?” he asks suspiciously, getting to that age now that magic is questionable.

“That’s right. She taught me all about it. This magic let me control the horse, so it would listen to me. Not only did the horse become my friend, but I had all this power and the horse would do whatever I said. Magic.”

Ty’s nose scrunches up as he thinks it over. The fact is, I’m not really lying. My mother was a member of the Canadian Equestrian Team before I was born, competing numerous times at the Pan American Games, so I was raised into the world of horses. In fact, we’re standing in the house I grew up in, located right in the rural, horse-friendly suburb of Southlands in Vancouver. My mother still runs the equestrian center on the property, mainly boarding other people’s horses, but she still gives lessons a few times a week, along with the occasional workshop. Riders come from all over the country to train their show jumpers with Diane Phillips.

But while I was more gung ho about them, and even had my own pony growing up, Ty’s never really been around them. I moved up with him and Jeff to Fort St. John for Jeff’s work when Ty was just a baby. We never visited my parents. They only came up twice, both times for his birthday. Jeff didn’t like it much when I talked to my family, let alone saw them, and I was the idiot who listened to him for far too long.

“What if I come with you to work?” Ty asks hopefully. “I would rather see the dinosaurs than the horses.”

I get to my feet and ruffle his hair lightly. “You know Grandpa’s company just draws the dinosaurs, right? There aren’t actually any dinosaurs there. In fact, I’m pretty sure if I brought you to work you would be bored out of your mind. A bunch of people sitting in cubicles and staring at their computers all day.”

He shrugs just as I hear my mother calling from the kitchen. “Jackie-O, you’re going to be late.”