Byline chapter 17

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Copyright © 2021 Peregrine
All rights reserved.
Disclaimer:
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

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Chapter 17

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A week later, Hannah called out of work. Kaylee was helping out at the front desk. She was slightly taller than I was and a bit overweight. Her blond hair was cut into a short style that suited her face perfectly. She had a reputation for being a bit aggressive and bossy. I found she spoke her mind and told people what she thought. You knew where you stood with her. That’s another thing I noticed. When a woman speaks her mind she is labeled bossy or aggressive. I found I liked Kaylee.

Kaylee was now working in the IT department. She had started out at the desk same as me. Going to school at night, she studied computers. She got into the IT department after graduation. I had replaced her.

We had a break at the desk. “What do you do in the IT department?”

“I’m a data analyst. I’m working my way up to network analyst,” she said.

“I know how to use a computer but the technical stuff is over my head.”

“It’s like anything else,” she said, “you need to go to school, learn it and practice it. How about you, what did you study in school?”

“I studied journalism. I want to be a writer,” I said. “You know, the great American novel and all that. Still gotta pay the bills till I get there.”

She laughed. “I know what you mean.”

“I heard you got sent home the other day.”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” she said.

“It’s not fair you know. We should be able to wear any dressy shoes we want.”

“I said I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Have you thought about doing something about it?”

“Look, drop it. I need this job. What do you think would happen if I tried to fight it. I’d get fired for some stupid reason.”

“Maybe I’ll do something about it.”

“Then you’ll get fired. Casey, don’t say anything but I’m looking for another job. Once I find it, I’m out of here. I like my job but not this sexist atmosphere around here.”

“What do you mean?”

“In meetings, have you ever noticed a woman always takes the minutes? A woman is always asked to get coffee. A woman is always asked to set up a meeting, arrange parties, pick out gifts for clients. Anyone can do that. It’s always the women who are asked, no, not asked, assigned those tasks. The mentality around here is women are better at those tasks than men. I’m not saying it’s much better anywhere else, but it’s getting to me. You seem like a nice girl, take some advice. Don’t stay here too long. Keep looking for something else.” The phone rang and she picked it up ending our conversation.

At lunch, I left the building and got on my phone to make some additional phone calls. I don’t know why but I couldn’t let this go.

~~0~~

Hannah was back the next day. “Hannah, are you free right after work?”

“Sure, what's up?”

“I want to see the exhibit space you found.”

“Why? It will make me realize I can’t afford it yet. I’ve been in a good mood all day.”

“Come on. You said there were restaurants there. We can have dinner.”

After work, we got into a cab and headed over to Rittenhouse Square. We got out at a street-level store with a large front window and glass front door. There was great visibility inside the space. You could see paintings on the walls from the window.

“This is the place. Some day it will be my paintings in there.” She turned around and pointed down the street. “There’s a nice place to eat. I’ve been there before. You’ll like it.”

We were seated and ordered. “So what do you think?”

“It’s perfect. You picked a great spot.”

“Why did you want to see it?”

“Remember when I asked you if you ever thought about having an exhibit? I think you should do it. You should set it in motion.”

“I’d love to exhibit my work. I can’t afford to do that right now,” she said.

“Well… how about if I bankroll your exhibit.” There was a look of surprise on her face.

“What? I can’t let you do that.”

“I’m not doing it for free. I get 5% of every painting you sell.” She looked at me in disbelief. “Have you spoken to the owner?” I said.

“Yes, I got some prices. His name is Shawn. That would be wonderful. Are you sure?”

“After we eat, let’s go talk with Shawn.”

After dinner, we went to the building. Almost as soon as we entered, a man came out from the back.

“The exhibit doesn’t start for another hour, ladies,” he said.

“Are you Shawn? I’m Casey.” I shook his hand.

Hannah stepped forward and shook his hand. “I’m Hannah. We’ve met before.”

“Oh yes, you wanted to know about exhibiting some of your artwork.”

“That’s what we’d like to talk to you about.”

“Great. Let me tell you about the space. As you can see this is a perfect white box retail space. The location is amazing. It’s due to foot traffic generated by the nearby boutiques and restaurants. It’s ideal for emerging artists, like yourself,” he said nodding at Hannah. “We’ve been showing local, emerging and established artists since the early 2000s. As you can see, there is easy visibility due to the large window and glass door. We have a 22-foot wall with a professional art hanging system and track lighting.” Shawn continued his spiel as an overwhelmed Hannah listened.

“Sounds perfect to me. How about it?” I asked Hannah.

“It’s wonderful. But Casey, I can’t let…”

“Yes you can, all you need to do is pick a date.”

We went back to Shawn’s office and viewed his calendar. With a date picked, he processed my card for the deposit. We thanked him and left.

Outside, Hannah couldn’t contain her excitement. “Oh my God! I can’t believe it. I’m going to exhibit my paintings. How can I thank you?”

“I’m getting 5% of sales, remember. Now, I’m going to take care of advertising your exhibit so people will know about it. I am going to interview you and have the interview published in the local papers before the exhibit.”

“I’ve never been interviewed before,” she said. “What am I going to say?”

“All you need to do is answer my questions. Don’t think of it as an interview. You’ll be talking to me,” I said. “We’ll go over it before it’s published. All you need to do is get your business cards ready and pick out your paintings.”

“Business cards? I don’t have business…,” she said.

“We’ll get some for you.”

~~0~~

Hannah and I got together during the week to discuss our venture. I interviewed her and wrote an article about her stressing her art and her upcoming exhibit. The magazine would use its influence to get it published in the papers and on-line. It would be my first official byline even if it was as Casey Jean Cummings. We had posters printed for the exhibit. We got permission to put them in the windows of shops and restaurants around the exhibition space. We used Hannah’s sketch of the Twilight scene with me in it on the posters.

~~0~~

I was using this time to keep my mind off of Kevin. I was having trouble with my emotions. I wanted him to call and yet I was dreading his call. I was still undecided as to whether I was going to tell him I was a guy. I knew I should. I was thinking I would tell him I was in transition. As Abbey had said, maybe he would take it better if he thought I was intending to become a woman. I could also hold off telling him and let him believe I was a woman.

It wasn’t long before I received that dreaded phone call.

“Casey, I was hoping we could go to dinner tomorrow. It would be a real date. I’m working early the next day so it won’t be a late night.”

Every fiber of me wanted to go to dinner with him. I didn’t know if I should without telling him first. I knew I should tell him I’m a guy but I didn’t want to tell him. Screw it. I want to go out with him. I’ll tell him later.

“Dinner sounds great.”

~~0~~

I was trying to decide what to wear for my dinner date with Kevin. I was way too nervous. We were going to a casual restaurant. I didn’t need to get very dressed up. Still, I wanted to look good. I was doing it again. I was succumbing to society’s pressure. I decided on black pants with a pink sleeveless top with a burgundy blazer and black 3-inch pumps. I was alerted Kevin was here while I was putting on my earrings. I checked myself in the mirror as he knocked on the door.

“Hi, Casey,” he said as he walked in. “You look great.” He kissed me on the cheek. “Nice place.”

“Thanks, I like it. How are we on time?”

“If we leave now, we should make it in plenty of time. It’s not far.”

After another quick check in the mirror, I grabbed my cross-body bag and we left.

We took the short walk to a tavern where the servers were dressed in colonial outfits. We got a table and after looking at the menu, we ordered dinner.

“Have you been here before?” Kevin asked.

“No,” I said. “I haven’t been here. It seems nice. The costumes are a bit much.”

“You don’t like their uniforms?” he said.

“When I was a waitress, I wore a uniform, not a costume.”

“I kind of like it. I feel like I’m stepping back in time. I expect Ben Franklin to walk in that door and up to the bar,” he said. I laughed. “Hey, it could happen. There might be a Franklin impersonator just around the corner.”

We talked and told each other a little about ourselves. I found out he was an only child. His father raised him after his mother passed away. His mother’s death gave him the impetus to become a paramedic. Much like how our father’s death influenced Abbey. I exchanged my pertinent information leaving out that I was a guy.

“So what’s this project you mentioned,” he asked as we walked back to my apartment.

“I’m helping a co-worker exhibit her paintings.”

“Really? Is she good?”

“I think she is. She did a sketch of me while we were watching a movie. It blew me away.”

“Where is it taking place?”

“Near Rittenhouse Square,” I said. “We have the space rented and we’ll have two days to mount the paintings before the show. It’s going to be a bit of work to get everything done.”

“Let me know when you’re setting up. I can be there if you need help. I might be able to bring some additional muscle.”

I started to say no, we could handle it but I wanted him to be there.

“That would be great if you could help out. I’ll text you the date and the address.”

After dinner, we walked around and eventually headed back to my building and sat on a bench outside.

“Casey, I have to let you know something.”

“Okay,” I said. I thought it should be me telling him something.

“I take quite a ribbing from the guys but I’m an old-fashioned guy. I don’t believe in sex before marriage. Well before I’m committed to someone at least. I wanted to let you know before we get deeper into our relationship.”

“Thanks for letting me know.” That’s not a problem for me. I can delay telling him a little longer. I paused for a second and bit my lower lip. My eyes met his. My insides melted. “Are you saying you’d like to go out with me again?”

“I was thinking about it, if you want to, that is.”

Part of me was screaming yes. All of me was saying you have to tell him.

“I might.” I smiled. “Call me. I’ll see how I feel.”

“Great. Wow, look at the time. I enjoyed being with you tonight. I’d better go. I’m up early tomorrow. I’ll call.”

“I had a nice time too,” I said.

He leaned in and we kissed a long tender, wonderful kiss.

We got up and he waited until I got into the lobby. He waved before turning to leave. I waved back. Henry at the security desk said, “Did you have a nice evening Miss Cummings?”

“Henry, I’ve told you to call me Casey and yes, it was a wonderful night.” I smiled and twirled as I walked past the desk. I saw Henry smile.

“Good night Miss Cummings.”

I think he calls me Miss Cummings on purpose. “You too, Henry,” I said as the elevator doors closed.

~~0~~

Time passed quickly. Kevin called and we went out a couple of times. The nights before the exhibit were planned for mounting the pictures. Kevin came to help out bringing Bart, his paramedic partner. The four of us worked together to mount the pictures. Hannah agonized over pricing her paintings.

The night of the exhibit arrived. Hannah had a stack of her new business cards on the table by the door in the exhibit hall. We provided water for people if they wanted it. I was happy Kevin and Bart had decided to come. Hannah and I stayed by the door greeting visitors as they arrived.

The exhibit was a success. At the end of the night, Kevin and Bart helped us put the remaining paintings in our car. We took home fewer paintings than we brought. More important, Hannah’s name was out there as an artist. I thought I noticed an attraction growing between Hannah and Bart. At Hannah’s apartment, The four of us finished returning the paintings to their room. The guys left and Hannah and I collapsed on her couch after the long day. We both had work tomorrow. I soon got ready to leave.

“Casey, I don’t know how to thank you. I felt like a real artist tonight.”

“You are a real artist. Just keep painting,” I said.

“The guys were a big help. Kevin seems nice. I like Bart. I’m hoping he calls.”

“You gave him your number?”

“He asked, so I did,” she said.

“I’m glad. We have work tomorrow. I’m gonna get going. See you in the morning.” We hugged.

On the cab ride home, I began to think. I had been spending a lot of time with Hannah over the past month. I had been in her home and her room. Not once did I have any kind of romantic attraction to her. She is very attractive. For the past couple of weeks, all I could think about was Kevin. Is my presenting as a woman diminishing my being attracted to women? Maybe Hannah is not my type.

~~0~~

I was waiting for Hannah to come back from lunch. For some reason, I was unusually hungry. I noticed she seemed excited.”

“You’ll never guess what just happened.”

“Tell me already.”

“I got a call from a magazine! They saw the exhibit last night and they want to do a feature story about me for their art section. You know the type: ‘local artist makes good’.” She struck a pose and flipped her hair.

“Oh my God! That’s amazing! Congrats.”

“Thanks. I’m really excited. Did you hear the other news?”

“There’s more?”

“Kaylee got a call from a headhunter a few weeks back. She’s been on some interviews and got a job. She still doing IT but better pay. She gave her two weeks' notice.”

“Good for her. After the shoe thing I know she was not happy.”

“Speaking of that, there’s a rumor going around that HR was contacted by a newspaper. Somehow they heard about the company requiring women to wear 3-inch heels. They were going to do a not too flattering story about it.”

“Where did you hear that?”

“Sophie in public relations. They suspect Kaylee had something to do with it but she denies talking to the paper. Hannah looked at me. “It wasn’t you was it?”

“Me? Hell no. I’ve not spoken to the papers other than to pay to get the ad with the article about you published.” It was the truth. I talked to my magazine. “It could have been any of us.”

“I heard PR is suggesting the policy be changed to avoid bad press. The owner is being resistant. If they do change the policy it would be a godsend. Not that I wouldn’t wear them at times. But standing in heels all day is a killer. At least it would be my choice. Men do not know what we women go through.”

“Tell me about it,” I said.

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Thanks for reading. Comments welcome.

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Cover picture Credits
Photo by Daria Sannikova from Pexels
Photo by Valeriia Miller from Pexels
Photo Composite by Peregrine