were contaminated.
“I want nothing to do with those vapid Wombatty things. I am looking to you to work with the design team to develop the toyline.”
“I would love to,” I replied. Amidst all this doom and gloom, there was a bright side; I was actually looking forward to this opportunity, even though I knew she would take credit for everything. With a huff, she marched to her office, pausing at the doorway. She twirled her pearls and glowered at me.
“And just one more thing, Sarah.”
Now what?
“Have you stopped seeing my husband?”
Her question was a dagger to my heart. I vomited the words: “I’m no longer seeing Ari.”
She smiled smugly. “Excellent. You have a future here with me.” She stepped into her office and slammed the door behind her.
A tornado of emotions tore through me. Rage. Confusion. Fear. Hopelessness. Sorrow. The furious storm wreaked havoc with every cell in my body. My headache erupted full force, making it difficult to concentrate, and my chest constricted, making it difficult to breathe. I was close to having an emotional breakdown. Pressing my fingers against my temples and squeezing my eyes shut, I forced myself to inhale and exhale through my nose several times. It helped. Within a few minutes, I was calmed down enough to get back to work. The only emotion that lingered like a rain cloud over my head was sadness.
Taking one more deep breath, I dove into Combat Wombats. Inspired, I fleshed out the personalities of each of the heroes and decided to name them after Australian cities—team leader Mel (short for Melbourne), bruiser Perth, brainiac Brisbane, and last but not least, Sydney, the kick-ass girl wombat. The concept was quickly shaping up. An image of Ari’s son playing with the action figures flashed into my head. He was my inspiration. Another pang of sadness shot through me.
At noon, Catherine emerged from her office, carrying her Chanel briefcase and purse. “I’ll be out of the office for the remainder of the afternoon. Please screen my calls and only contact me if something’s urgent.” With a fling of her hair, she strutted down the hall until she was out of sight.
I reviewed her schedule. She indeed had a very booked up afternoon. Following lunch at Nobu, she had a mani-pedi, leg and arm waxing, and then her appointment uptown at the law offices of Allen & Allyn. Great. I could get a lot done.
Diving back into Combat Wombats helped keep my mind off Ari but not totally. I still longed for the phone to ring and to hear his sultry voice. Of course, that was wishful thinking. It was over. History. I was probably nothing more to him than another train conquest. One of many.
Yet, no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t get him out of my head. In between Combat Wombat doodles, I found myself sketching his face from all angles—from his breathtaking profile to a frontal view with his dazzling dimpled smile. I was surprised by how well I captured his expressions—from his smug come-ons to his dreamy after-sex glow. Under each sketch, I wrote his name, making fanciful “A’s” and drawing little hearts. I fought back tears. Damn it. I missed him. And wanted him back in my life so badly.
At a little before six, Fernando stopped by my desk. I hastily flipped over my doodles. “ Mí amor , let’s go out for a drink and celebrate Combat Wombats.”
I hesitated, but then agreed. I could use a drink. The last twenty-four hours had been hell. Grabbing my bag and skateboard, I headed to the bank of elevators with Fernando. My companion did an outrageous imitation of Catherine, strutting as she did in her Chanel pumps with her head high in the air. My office buddy was already cheering me up.
As we exited the entrance to the building, both laughing, I stopped dead in my tracks. He was there! Leaning against his Bentley, his arms folded across his chest. Dressed in the beige suit he was wearing when I first saw him at 30th Street Station. His piercing blue eyes
“I want nothing to do with those vapid Wombatty things. I am looking to you to work with the design team to develop the toyline.”
“I would love to,” I replied. Amidst all this doom and gloom, there was a bright side; I was actually looking forward to this opportunity, even though I knew she would take credit for everything. With a huff, she marched to her office, pausing at the doorway. She twirled her pearls and glowered at me.
“And just one more thing, Sarah.”
Now what?
“Have you stopped seeing my husband?”
Her question was a dagger to my heart. I vomited the words: “I’m no longer seeing Ari.”
She smiled smugly. “Excellent. You have a future here with me.” She stepped into her office and slammed the door behind her.
A tornado of emotions tore through me. Rage. Confusion. Fear. Hopelessness. Sorrow. The furious storm wreaked havoc with every cell in my body. My headache erupted full force, making it difficult to concentrate, and my chest constricted, making it difficult to breathe. I was close to having an emotional breakdown. Pressing my fingers against my temples and squeezing my eyes shut, I forced myself to inhale and exhale through my nose several times. It helped. Within a few minutes, I was calmed down enough to get back to work. The only emotion that lingered like a rain cloud over my head was sadness.
Taking one more deep breath, I dove into Combat Wombats. Inspired, I fleshed out the personalities of each of the heroes and decided to name them after Australian cities—team leader Mel (short for Melbourne), bruiser Perth, brainiac Brisbane, and last but not least, Sydney, the kick-ass girl wombat. The concept was quickly shaping up. An image of Ari’s son playing with the action figures flashed into my head. He was my inspiration. Another pang of sadness shot through me.
At noon, Catherine emerged from her office, carrying her Chanel briefcase and purse. “I’ll be out of the office for the remainder of the afternoon. Please screen my calls and only contact me if something’s urgent.” With a fling of her hair, she strutted down the hall until she was out of sight.
I reviewed her schedule. She indeed had a very booked up afternoon. Following lunch at Nobu, she had a mani-pedi, leg and arm waxing, and then her appointment uptown at the law offices of Allen & Allyn. Great. I could get a lot done.
Diving back into Combat Wombats helped keep my mind off Ari but not totally. I still longed for the phone to ring and to hear his sultry voice. Of course, that was wishful thinking. It was over. History. I was probably nothing more to him than another train conquest. One of many.
Yet, no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t get him out of my head. In between Combat Wombat doodles, I found myself sketching his face from all angles—from his breathtaking profile to a frontal view with his dazzling dimpled smile. I was surprised by how well I captured his expressions—from his smug come-ons to his dreamy after-sex glow. Under each sketch, I wrote his name, making fanciful “A’s” and drawing little hearts. I fought back tears. Damn it. I missed him. And wanted him back in my life so badly.
At a little before six, Fernando stopped by my desk. I hastily flipped over my doodles. “ Mí amor , let’s go out for a drink and celebrate Combat Wombats.”
I hesitated, but then agreed. I could use a drink. The last twenty-four hours had been hell. Grabbing my bag and skateboard, I headed to the bank of elevators with Fernando. My companion did an outrageous imitation of Catherine, strutting as she did in her Chanel pumps with her head high in the air. My office buddy was already cheering me up.
As we exited the entrance to the building, both laughing, I stopped dead in my tracks. He was there! Leaning against his Bentley, his arms folded across his chest. Dressed in the beige suit he was wearing when I first saw him at 30th Street Station. His piercing blue eyes
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