Savvy Sheldon Feels Good as Hell Read online

  Savvy watched his face, waiting for him to fire off more ammunition, but it never came. He had nothing left to say.

  “So I should put you and your career before me and mine?” Savvy tried to hold on to her calm, but her voice trembled with incredulity.

  “I’m not going to bother asking you, Savvy. You can’t do it. You already put your career before yourself. Just look in the mirror.” He looked at her in the eye for the first time, venom in his eyes.

  “Get the fuck out of my house.” Her voice shook, the words spilling out haltingly. How did I not see this coming?

  He stood, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, mumbling a thanks for dinner. He grabbed his keys from a table by the front door, twisted them around to remove his key to her house, and walked outside. Savvy stared after him, jumping as the front door slammed shut.

  Swearing to herself, she rushed to follow him, immediately regretting what she’d said, trying to figure out a way to fix all of this, but he moved too quickly. He rounded the back of his truck and unlocked the driver’s-side door with his key fob. He didn’t even look back.

  Her mouth gaped as he revved the engine and pulled away from the sidewalk. “Jason! Wait!”

  Jason sped down the block, leaving Savvy hugging herself, alone on the sidewalk. Feeling the buzz of her phone in her pocket, her stomach turned as his name appeared across the screen.

  I’m done, was all the message said.

  She stood there, arms hanging at her sides, gulping for air. Her face grew hotter as the first tears fell. She almost jumped out of her skin when a voice behind her cut through the quiet.

  “Hey, are you alright?”

  She jumped. There he was again. The homeless guy with his chocolate Lab was walking back in the opposite direction. Concern creased between his furrowed brows, and he ran a hand over the day’s stubble sprouting from his chin.

  “Jesus, you are everywhere!” Embarrassed, Savvy wiped tears from her cheeks. “I’m sorry, but now isn’t a good time, sir.” She started back toward the house, but turned to yell at him, pointing her phone in his direction. “And I don’t carry any cash on me!” She looked back and saw his puzzled expression, his eyes wide as she slammed the front door closed.

  3

  “What did that moron say to you? An upgrade?” Joan bounded into the living room to find Savvy nursing a glass of bourbon on the floor, her back against the sofa. “Let me have a sip of that,” she drawled. Joanie’s Southern accent was always more pronounced when she was angry. Or drunk. She sat on the floor next to Savvy—her muscular thighs flexing in biker shorts under her favorite Braves jersey. She twisted the bill of her baseball cap from the side of her head to the back so that she could pull Savvy close.

  “Moron? That fool is one stupid muthafucker!” Maggie called, striding in behind Joan. Her tall hourglass build housed the biggest voice box in Los Angeles. Thick thighs and ass, big boobs, perfect brows, volume set to loud even in the library. Maggie never cared to use her inside voice—everything about her was loud and proud. She wore hot-pink and lime-green sneakers with tight blue jeans and a black cropped T-shirt featuring the silhouette of a Black woman sporting her natural hair. She couldn’t care less if a bit of her belly poked out over her jeans—her motto was “let them look.” She perched on the arm of the love seat and gestured toward Savvy. “Spill it.”

  Savvy recounted the dinner to her friends between sips of bourbon, gulping down the rest of her glass when she finished. “So, to sum up, I’ve taken a downward trajectory in the girlfriend viability category. A strong work ethic and some extra weight was enough to send him running. Somehow I found a man literally triggered by my drive for success.”

  “He’s lucky I don’t have his address,” Maggie quipped, drinking bourbon straight from the bottle after refilling Savvy’s glass.

  We’re all lucky.

  Two hours later, Joan was treating them to her best impersonation of Beyoncé singing “Upgrade U” and dancing wildly around the living room until Savvy erupted in fits of laughter. She could not have asked for better friends.

  The next day, Savvy sat at her desk and shut her eyes, cursing her friends as she felt the familiar throb that came after consuming too much liquor.

  I need more coffee.

  The break room buzzed with Monday-morning energy. She grabbed one of her oversized mugs from a cupboard above the sink, shoving it under the spout of the Keurig machine. She turned and offered quick smiles to her coworkers hovering over a big box of warm Krispy Kreme donuts as she dropped in a K-Cup. She bit her lip, eyeing a chocolate glazed donut. Have some willpower, Savs. Jason said to look in the mirror.

  She let her office door close softly behind her as she nursed the hot mug of cinnamon-flavored coffee. Files covered most flat surfaces in her office. Sitting at her desk, she immediately shoved a framed photo of her and Jason in Hawaii into a drawer.

  Instead of attacking the mountain of files on her desk, Savvy stared down at the park outside. Though technically still winter, Southern California in early March offered warm sunshine without a cloud in sight. Sunlight danced on the green leaves of gently swaying trees. Her office phone rang, and she reached for the receiver before it rang a second time.

  “Savannah Sheldon.”

  “Savs. Kotter here. Just checking in on you. You sound so professional, girl!” Joan’s upbeat, good-natured twang offered a welcomed excuse to continue procrastinating. Named after her Big Mama in Georgia, Joan embodied the nurturing spirit and jovial temperament of her family’s matriarch. She playfully mimicked Savvy’s greeting in a high-pitched voice. “Savannah Sheldon.”

  “Joanie.” Savvy eased back in her chair. “What are you up to, aside from keeping me off the ledge?”

  “You know, girl, the usual. Working on an ad campaign for this new tequila brand that’s supposed to replace the need for light margaritas. All you need are a couple of limes, and a salted rim.” Exasperation weighed heavily in her voice, and Savvy pictured her sitting on the edge of her desk staring at a bottle of this new tequila. “I always thought if you were going to drink your lunch, you wouldn’t really worry so much about calories.”

  “For real, some margaritas have more calories than the meal. I do love good tequila, though. Any good lines for the ad yet?”

  “Nope, I’m at a standstill. The ones I’ve got so far are complete shit. Figured it was the perfect time to give you a call. How’s the office?”

  Savvy surveyed the mountains around her desk and rolled her shoulders back away from her ears. “I’m swamped. I haven’t read a single file or email yet. Barely got a cup of coffee and just started staring out the window.”

  Kotter didn’t say anything. Just listened, waiting for more. Savvy loved that she knew when to do that.

  “How about Korean BBQ tonight? I’ll be here until at least seven, but that means we should miss the crowd. Honey Pig?”

  “You do know my weakness, Savs.” Joanie’s voice held her smile, her accent drawing out her words, even though she tried to hide it. “Sounds good, let’s meet at 7:30? Here, tell me what you think: Perfect 10 Tequila—Atkins approved.”

  Savvy scrunched her nose. “It’s already rivaling light margaritas, can’t you at least try to make it seem appetizing? No one will want it if it tastes like a diet in a glass. Bring in some sexy people with great abs and make a signature cocktail. Then I might actually try it.” Even though it sounds terrible.

  She laughed. “Fair enough. I’ll bring you a bottle tonight with a bag of limes. Not a bad idea to bring in the guy, though. Perfect 10 Tequila cocktails are like hot guys in a bottle. They may be lean, but they’ll still get you into plenty of trouble.”

  “See, go with that! I’m into it. If I’m drinking tequila, I’m definitely looking for trouble. You remember what happened last time.”

  “Who could forget?” she joked.
r />   Savvy laughed. Memories flooded back of their drunken girls’ night in San Diego. Something about a bartender licking salt from the palm of her hand made her shiver. “Okay, love, I’ve got to hit these files. I’ll see you at the restaurant.”

  “Bet. Kotter out!”

  Joanie’s dad, a retired Atlanta cop, had left his mark. She was forever using police jargon when she called, and she was not the friend to watch a Law & Order marathon with—she’d ruin the suspense by telling you everything procedurally wrong with the arrests.

  The line disconnected, and Savvy poked her head out the door to see Lina, the file coordinator she shared with two other underwriters. A petite Chicana with a mane of thick brown hair, Lina ran circles around other coordinators with her keen attention to detail. “Good morning!” she answered brightly. “I saw you walk by earlier, and wow, your makeup looks great today!”

  “Long story,” Savvy grumbled, tapping fingertips against the dark circles and puffiness below her eyes that she’d carefully covered with concealer. “Listen, which files have the Friday deadline? I know I still have a bunch out there in my file bin, but I have to plow through what I have in here first.”

  Lina took a bite of her morning pastry as she answered, “Red ones first. I’ll weed out any in your in-box. Finish what you’ve got in there, and I’ll give you any remaining ones tomorrow. You can catch up on the rest Friday. No worries!”

  Savvy sipped her coffee, looking around the L-shaped desk at four full file organizers that Lina had brought in that morning, along with an extra pile centered on the round conference table. Easily two hundred files, nearly half of them red. She felt sick as she thought about the paper waste. Though parts of the system were digital, the senior team could not agree on a plan for moving forward with a completely paperless process, so Lina kept massive file bins behind her cubicle, and Savvy purposefully avoided looking at its constant state of overflow. “Okay, sounds good. Can you handle my calls?”

  “No problem, Savvy. Let me know if you need anything. I’ll make sure you’re not disturbed, and I’ll check in with you later to see about a lunch order.”

  “Thanks, Lina, I appreciate it.”

  Returning to the open file on her desk, she flipped through the insurance application, reading about the applicant’s medical history, then logged into the company’s database. She accessed an electronic version of the applicant’s medical records file, along with an in-person assessment report. This particular applicant was young, healthy, and in great shape. She signed off on a plus rating and tossed the file in an “outgoing” bin for Lina to pick up later.

  Savvy turned back to stare out the window at the sunny day continuing without her. Impulsively, she opened the bottom drawer of her desk and looked down at the happy faces smiling up at her from Maui. Their tans made them darker than their typical matching golden brown, an aura of light surrounding them, her arms around Jason’s waist.

  Look in the mirror.

  Savvy’s bouncy curls were lighter in the sunlight, which reflected off her wire-rimmed glasses. The halter strap of her one-piece bathing suit showed above the neckline of a baggy Bruins T-shirt, which hung over a long sarong tied around her waist. One dimpled thigh protruded through a slit in the material. Because she’d turned and held on to Jason for the photo, her face was angled to show her profile, emphasizing her round double chin.

  Jason stood proudly in board shorts. His strong arms and flat stomach reddened from his attempt at surfing the day before. Deep dimples and a sprinkling of dark brown freckles across the bridge of his nose accented his full lips.

  Savvy’s fingers itched to reach for her phone, but she closed the desk drawer and looked back out the office window. Women pushed strollers, a couple of people walked their dogs, and a handful of joggers made their way around the park. She imagined herself down there jogging with them, pictured her face beet red, sweaty, and gasping for air. A trainer wouldn’t be a terrible idea...

  While Jason surfed in Maui, she’d sat on the beach watching. She refused to take off her sarong, wading only a couple of feet into the water before retreating to her towel. Eventually, she took off the T-shirt, but she was too self-conscious about her belly, her breasts spilling over the top of her halter. If she’d had her college figure, solid and smooth, she still would have been nervous to show it off, but the threat of a little extra jiggle wouldn’t have stopped her from surfing and snorkeling. Maybe Jason was right. Her shyness about her body had turned into ignoring it completely until she was forced to buy new clothes.

  Savvy picked up the office line, tempted to call him, but she heard Mags and Kotter screaming at her to stop. Setting down the receiver, she reached for another red file.

  * * *

  The sunshine outside the window faded, turning fluffy clouds vivid shades of orange and pink. Her nose buried in another file, Savvy jumped when the phone rang. Without thinking or checking the caller ID, she picked up the phone, still concentrating on the medical records in front of her.

  “Savannah Sheldon.”

  “Good, you’re at work. You can’t have your employer thinking that you don’t value the opportunity that you have. And sit up straight, you know I hate it when you slouch over your desk.”

  Savvy’s back snapped straight on cue, her chin lifted, and she started to roll her eyes, but Mama always knew. She didn’t dare sigh, still believing that her mother could pop her through the telephone. “Hey, Ma. Yes, I’m at work. Thank you for calling to check on me.”

  “Savannah Joy, you know damn well I called to do more than check on you.”

  “You talked to Uncle.” She groaned internally.

  “Yes, I spoke with Joseph. You cannot keep wasting your savings on that house! Yes, your grandparents lived there. Yes, you have memories. And where are your memories now?” Her accent grew stronger when she raised her voice. Born in Bangkok and raised in South Central, Mama had a powerful demeanor that made up for her small stature. Her no-nonsense approach and incessant rule following at the bank made her the regional manager’s favorite—she was offered the branch manager role several times, but she preferred to remain assistant manager to work more closely with the tellers. Patrons all over South LA were terrified of Savvy’s five-foot-nothing mother. “Savannah Joy?”

  Damn. She’s middle-naming me. “In my head,” she muttered.

  “That’s right. So if memories are in your head, why the hell do you keep dumping money into that rickety old house?”

  She leaned forward, elbows propped on the desk, holding her chin in her hand. “Come on, you know that Granny and PopPop’s house means a lot to me. It means something to Uncle too.”

  “Yes, well if Joseph hadn’t spent his savings on those silly instruments, he could be repairing the house. It’s his house to do with as he pleases. You should be saving that money to renovate your house.” Her stern voice took Savvy back to all the times she got in trouble as a kid. “And I thought I told you to sit up,” Mama snapped.

  She leaned back, straightening each vertebra one at a time. “Okay, Ma. I’m sitting up.”

  “Maggie told me that you and Jason broke up. Good. Now where are you on that promotion?” Savvy had been best friends with Maggie and Joanie since sixth grade. They met at a tennis summer camp and had been thick as thieves ever since. Mama had become a second mother to both of them, and she started checking in on Maggie regularly after her mom died two years ago.

  She always hated Jason. “Mom, it’s not that easy. More than half of the team are vying for that spot, and I’m one of the most junior people on the underwriting staff.”

  “So? Don’t you work hard the way I taught you? We’re talking about your security here, Savannah.”

  She exhaled softly. Since she was six years old, her mom had lectured on how she needed to be financially independent and never have to depend on a man. And, of course, it stemmed from Savvy
’s dad leaving. The boy Mama met from around the way when she was fifteen.

  Being the youngest child, and only daughter, Savvy was always in awe of her mom. She saw how tired she was working three jobs to make ends meet; her brothers were always too busy with sports or their friends to notice. “My savings are doing fine, Ma. All of my bills are paid, my car is paid off, and I increased my retirement withholdings. You taught me well.”

  She harrumphed and continued. “How much money did you give Joseph?”

  “Mom...”

  “I asked you a question, Savannah Joy.”

  Shit. “Yes, ma’am. I gave him $900. That’s not a terrible amount of money for a roof repair.”

  “Okay, first, it is a lot of money. Second, where do you think this ends? You already helped repair the front steps. Next is the porch, or the water heater, or another hole in the roof. That house needs a complete overhaul. Better to tear it down and start over.”

  The house that Granny and PopPop purchased when they immigrated to the US in 1967 was their prized possession as they chased the American dream. They had no idea that their house was in the hood, but they were immediately embraced when the neighborhood realized that Granny could burn in the kitchen. Any hungry kid in the neighborhood could come see her for some spicy guay tiew reua, her pla rad prik, or her pad kra pao gai. On Sundays, she’d make a huge pot of Massaman curry, Kaeng Massaman, and the whole block would come through to have a bowl. She’d have three rice cookers going to make sure everyone had enough. Savvy’s first memories of the kitchen were with her grandmother. Her love of cooking grew because Granny taught her everything she knew before she passed. Mama was always too busy working to learn.

  “But building a new home is far more expensive than these minor repairs. And what if I want to buy the house from Uncle? Maybe I want to keep it in the family to pass down to my kids.” Savvy inherited her stubbornness from her mom. Karma’s a bitch.