A/N: There are probably only two chapters left of Metamorphosis, so I am getting a head start on a new story. I am still not in the mood to finish Death By Design. However, I think you will find this story satisfying. The general plot is based on the novel 'Can You Keep A Secret?' by Sophie Kinsella, although I will most likely change things along the way. Please note that the first few chapters will probably be extremely similar to the book as I will need some time to find my own voice. Review?
Everyone has secrets. Yes, even those of us who claim to have none. No one is honest all the time. Think about all the horrible scenarios that could happen as a result. Say Mary is about to breakup with Sam because she realizes that she just might have feelings for her coworker John.
Mary: I want to break up.
Sam: What? Why? I love you.
Mary: I'm in love with someone else.
Sam: Someone else?
Mary: Yes, John. You remember him? I think I mentioned him to you once or twice. We just connected.
Sam: Is this some kind of joke? I have been nothing but good to you.
Mary: True, but you bore me, especially in bed. It's not me. It's you.
Sam then proceeds to have a mental break down and becomes the male equivalent of a cat lady. Now, the example I have given may seem a bit extreme, but I am trying to convey the serious consequences here of a totally honest world. Again, I repeat: Everyone has secrets.
Heck! I have a secret. I have many secrets. Mind you, they're not exciting crappy-marketing-assistant-by-day-super-heroine-by-night sort of secrets, but they're secrets none the less. Actually, come to think of it, I don't have many secrets. In fact, these are the only ones I can come up with off the top of my head:
1. I am not a virgin, not even close.
2. Once I had this really weird lesbian dream about my best friend Serena.
3. My boyfriend Nate has always reminded me of Ken. Yes, as in Barbie and Ken.
4. Sometimes in the middle of passionate sex with him, I just feel like laughing.
5. I have an embarrassingly huge obsession with anything Audrey Hepburn.
6. In fact, my bedspread has her face plastered all over it.
7. I cannot stand country music, but Nate is just so into it. His favorite artist is Carrie Underwood.
8. I absolutely cannot stand my coworker Vanessa Abrams either. Every nasty rumor about her in the department was started by me. Sometimes, when she gets me really upset, I spit in her coffee. Don't judge me.
9. Nate has horrible taste in lingerie, but I wear everything he gives me anyway to make him happy.
10. My mother has recently taken up baking to help relieve her stress. She should do the world a favor and just quit. The last batch of cookies she baked made me want to puke.
11. I always eat a lollipop before going on a date. What? It helps me calm my nerves.
12. I have a tendency to bite my lip when I lie.
13. I lied about my previous job experience to land this job. I have never had any experience in marketing. Half the time, I have no idea what the people around me are talking about like this man in the gray suit for example.
14. Actually, I don't even remember his name.
"In conclusion, our partnership with Bass Industries ends here. We are simply choosing to move in a different direction," I hear him say.
Earth to Blair. A different direction? Oh God. Oh no. This cannot be happening. This was supposed to be my big break. I was supposed to be promoted to marketing executive!
"Wait!" I shout without thinking.
Everyone in the boardroom turns to look at me. Shit. What now?
I clear my throat and take a deep breath. You can do this Blair.
"Of course I have been listening very intently to all you have to say sir, but just to recap, what is this different direction you speak of exactly?" I ask him.
He raises an eyebrow. Oh dear God. He probably knows I haven't been listening. I am so fired when my boss gets wind of this.
"A partnership with Rosendale Industries will simply be more beneficial to us in the foreseeable future," he humors me, repeating himself. "Their products are more affordable, which will bring in more business for us. You can understand that, can't you?"
"But their alcohol sucks!" I want to shout.
"I understand sir, but Bass Industries is internationally renowned for their alcohol," I say instead.
I am such a professional. I was born to do this. He motions for me to go on. Sell it to him Blair!
"When a consumer purchases a bottle of Bass alcohol, he or she is telling the world that they only buy the best, they only associate themselves with the best. You want your company to be associated with the best, don't you?" I finish, adrenaline coursing through my blood.
His forehead wrinkles in thought at my words and a feeling of triumph overcomes me. Ha! If only Carter could see me now! He has to promote me after this brilliant victory.
Blair Waldorf, marketing executive.
Blair Waldorf, marketing director.
Blair Waldorf, head of marketing.
My promotion is so close, I can almost taste it.
"With all due respect, alcohol is alcohol my dear," he mentions in a patronizing tone. "The offer Rosendale Industries has on the table is simply too good to refuse. We stand to make a bundle."
What? I am desperate now. I need to be promoted. My pride depends on it.
I look around for a prop, anything to give me some inspiration. I catch a bottle of Bass vodka in the corner of my eye. Perfect!
"I beg to differ," I challenge him, grabbing the bottle and quickly pouring him a glass. "No alcohol in the world tastes quite like Bass alcohol."
I hand the glass to him, willing for him to take a sip.
"I know what Bass alcohol tastes like," he refuses me politely. "Frankly, Rosendale alcohol tastes just as good. I'm sorry, but our decision is final."
No. No. No.
"Just one sip!" I shout, thrusting the glass towards him. "There is a difference."
His eyes widen suddenly and I watch in horror as the liquid swirls out of the glass, heading straight for him.
Fuck. I am so fired. Forget the promotion. I'll be lucky if I get to keep my job.
I reach for a napkin and begin to dab away frantically at his wet shirt, murmuring a thousand pointless apologies as I go. His assistant pushes me away and guides him towards the door, his entire team following close behind.
"Please!" I yell after him just as the last person is about to leave the room. "Don't tell my boss."
But he's already gone. I am so royally screwed.
I walk over to the bar, dejected, and take a seat. I desperately need a drink after the shitty day I just had. My life was never supposed to end up like this. I was the head bitch in charge in high school. Everyone feared me, wanted to be me. I was supposed to be a famous fashion designer like my mother now or perhaps a big time lawyer at some topnotch law firm. I was voted most likely to succeed by my fellow classmates for crying out loud! That has to count for something, right? Long story short, neither option worked out for me in the end, so here I am, Blair Waldorf, crappy marketing assistant at Bass Industries.
"Can I get you anything darling?" the bartender addresses me, concern in his eyes.
"A double," I insist. "Of anything."
"Bad day?" he pries, setting down a drink in front of me.
"You have no idea," I simply answer, not looking for conversation.
He seems to understand, heading over to the other end of the bar to serve another customer, one that looks happy.
My phone rings then. I freeze, unable to look at the caller ID. It has to be Carter. Surely he knows by now how I fucked up today. I can practically hear him screaming 'You're fired!' already from the other end of the line.
No wait. Serena is calling. Just what I need. My best friend. She is the most optimistic person I know. Surely she'll know how to make me feel better.
"Serena," I start the moment I answer the phone. "You have no idea how horrible the meeting was."
"Oh B!" she exclaims, immediately trying to cheer me up. "It couldn't have been that bad!"
"I drenched the CEO of Desire in Bass vodka! My first big break and I screw it up!" I yell in frustration before lowering my voice.
People are staring. An air hostess smiles at me from a few seats away. Of course she's amused. None of this is happening to her.
"Oh wow," Serena comments sympathetically. "I guess that is pretty bad, but hey! We all make mistakes Blair! I'm sure Carter will understand. Besides, you still have Nate! He wants to have dinner with you the moment your plane lands. He would have called you himself, but he was afraid he would interrupt your meeting. Isn't he the sweetest?"
Nate. Yes, Nate! Dear, sweet Nate! My perfect, wonderful boyfriend. Serena is absolutely right. My life isn't so bad. I could always get a new job. Maybe I wasn't meant to be in marketing after all. With newfound hope, I hang up the phone and head on over to the departure gate. As I walk by, people are smiling at me and I smile back. See? All you need in life is a little positivity. This world is a wonderful place, full of nice people, full of promise!
Ah! There's the air hostess from the bar now. I'll show her that nothing can get Blair Waldorf down.
I hand her my ticket and say in my chirpiest voice, "Lovely day, isn't it?"
She smiles at me awkwardly, glancing briefly down at my chest. What the hell is she looking at? I follow her gaze and gasp. Two of the buttons on my blouse have somehow managed to come undone. A good chunk of my new pink, lace bra is on full display for the world to see. That's why people were smiling at me, because I'm the crazy lady with the pink, lace bra. Oh God. This day could seriously not get any worse. Even thinking about Nate isn't making me feel any better now. I quickly fumble with the buttons of my blouse just as the air hostess lets me pass.
"Wait!" she calls after me and I'm thinking 'Oh God. Please don't let there be a gaping hole in my pants or something too.'
"Would you like an upgrade?" she asks unexpectedly, a twinkle in her eyes.
"An upgrade?" I return uncertainly.
"I overheard your phone conversation at the bar," she explains, apologetically. "I thought maybe I could give you a break. I can upgrade your ticket to first class if you'd like."
I stare at her for a moment. Me. First class. Wow.
"Can you do that?" I wonder, wary. "I mean, can you just upgrade people like that?"
"Well, it's a short flight. No one will know. Just be discreet about it," she answers, throwing a wink in my direction.
I smile gratefully at her. Yes. This is exactly what I need. God bless all the air hostesses of the world!
She guides me towards my new spacious, leather seat. I can feel myself relaxing already. Me, Blair Waldorf, here in first class! I glance around at my surroundings, taking everything in. There are so many business people here, all in their fancy suits and ties. I almost feel like I'm intruding. No. I'm just as good at what I do as they are with what they do. Like Serena says, everyone messes up once in a while. No big deal. This is definitely where I belong.
"Can I get you some champagne?" my friend the air hostess questions, her smile as bright as ever.
"Absolutely! Thank you so much," I reply.
She should seriously get a raise.
"And for you sir?" she asks the man beside me.
"Nothing for now," he answers, leafing through the papers in his hands. "Thank you."
He has a British accent I note. I love British accents. In fact, Nate would be even more perfect if he had one. Actually, no. Scratch that. Nate is perfect the way he is. I wouldn't change anything about him just like he wouldn't change anything about me.
Now, how shall I entertain myself on this flight? I could watch a movie I suppose or read a magazine. Yes, a magazine sounds good. I wonder what Angelina Jolie is up to these days?
"Here you go!" the air hostess announces as she hands me my champagne. "Enjoy your flight!"
I smile again, about to start flipping through my magazine when I suddenly have the urge to introduce myself to the man beside me. It would be rude not to and I should really take the time to widen my social network anyway. Reading a gossip magazine is certainly not going to help my career. I've lost track of how many kids Brad and Angelina have now anyway.
"Hi! I'm Blair. Blair Waldorf," I start, reaching out a hand for him to shake, acting all friendly.
He looks up from his papers for a brief moment to observe me. He doesn't even bother to return my smile.
"Chuck," he offers finally, gripping my hand for a split second before turning away again.
"Chuck…?" I continue, waiting for his last name.
He doesn't answer me and is again, fully absorbed into the papers in his hands. Geez. Rude much? Oh well. Who says I would have wanted to strike up a conversation with him anyway? I look around to see if I could possibly introduce myself to someone else, someone more approachable, but everyone seems to be busy with something or another. Fine. I'll just read my magazine then and worry about my career later. This is a short flight after all. I'll be home in Nate's comforting arms before I know it. Just relax Waldorf. Just relax.