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Dogs Chase Squirrels 9 - Hangover
🕑 Added 2020-03-21 18:00:00 +0000 UTCHer head was pounding. Light seared through her closed blinds, a stray beam hitting her directly in her eyes, making her headache worse.
Camelia groaned quietly as she turned over on her back, blindly reaching to retrieve her glasses from atop her nightstand, only to find nothing sitting on top of it.
“Odd, I always keep my glasses there,” she muttered to herself. “Where could they --”
Oh.
“That was my favorite pair of glasses.”
Everything came back to her with painful clarity. The drinks. The dancing. The panic attack, and the ride back home on Irene’s scooter in silence. The taste of bile in her mouth suggested she got sick -- more than once. She pressed her face into her hands, eyes closed.
Camelia attempted to sit up, but a wave of dizziness sent her back to her pillow, biting back a sickly moan. Despite her stomach being empty, her insides were churning, loudly and unpleasantly.
“I’m never having another Long Island, ever again,” she promised herself. “I don’t care how good they taste.”
She turned her head, avoiding the light shining through her window as best she could, before mustering the energy to roll off the other side. The light-headed sensations ebbed away as she rose to her feet -- a small comfort.
She didn’t dare look into a mirror -- not until she had some coffee, at least. The last thing she needed was a visual reminder for why she didn’t drink. Her bare feet shuffled across the soft carpet into her living room. Her apartment, much like her office, was small and quaint, but perfectly suitable for her needs. The kitchen connected directly with the living space, allowing her easy access to her coffee maker. Although she wasn’t much for spoiling herself with luxuries, she allowed herself two exceptions -- the occasional purchase of a rare, first-edition novel, and her coffee maker.
It took some debating, but she settled on a drip coffee model, similar to those she’d see at a cafe. Despite lacking the skill to produce a cup at a professional level, the machine’s design made it easy for her to get relatively close. Separating the bin from the base of the machine, she went to work filling it with water. Once she finished, she grabbed a coffee grinder, opening up a packet containing a light-roasted blend of beans imported straight from Japan. She received the blend for her birthday from Agnes, and had been eager to try some out, but her recent work schedule made preparing coffee in the morning difficult without running the risk of being late. Whether this was a treat to herself, or an excuse to make herself feel better, she wasn’t in the mood to decide. All she wanted right now was coffee.
As she placed the freshly-ground beans into the coffee maker and set it to brew, she went to grab her cell phone, placed neatly next to her personal computer. At least she had the foresight to plug the phone in before passing out last night. The Labrador grabbed the phone, making a note of the time as she turned on the screen -- already 10:37 AM. She noticed at least ten texts. Two from Irene -- and eight from Edward. There were two missed calls from him to boot.
“Edward?” she muttered. “He never texts me on my day off. Actually, he never texts me at all.” She took a moment to browse through the texts, her face growing ashen as each subsequent text became shorter, and angrier. “Oh no. No, no, no, that can’t be right.” She immediately dialed Edward’s number, not bothering to listen to the voice messages. She didn’t need to -- she already knew how pissed off he would be.
“Where the hell are you?” the coyote’s gruff voice shouted into the phone, making her ears ring. “I’ve been calling you for the last hour!”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Forrester,” Camelia said. “I...I must have overslept.”
“You slept in until 10:30? How did you -- you know what, never mind, I don’t want to know. Just get over here!”
“I thought we were meeting with the Dean in the afternoon --”
“If you bothered to read my messages, you’d have known she moved the meeting up to 10 AM. As in forty minutes ago! My God, how could you forget? Wasn’t all of this your idea?”
Camelia’s stomach began to turn. “I know. I’m sorry. Why did she change the schedule on us at the last minute, though? Aren’t college deans supposed to be punctual?”
“How should I know? Look, that’s not the point. I’m doing my best to keep her in her office, but she’s not going to keep waiting for us. You need to get down here. Now.”
“Edward --”
“Mister Forrester.”
“-- do you really need me to be there? We’re just discussing what the library needs for the book sale. I’m sure you can handle that without me.”
“Except you’re the reason she wanted this meeting in the first place. She made that perfectly clear to me. So yes, I need you here. Not in an hour. Not in 10 minutes. NOW.”
“Okay. Alright.” Camelia paced around her living room, resisting the urge to sit down on her couch, for fear that she’d never get back up if she did. “Tell her I’ll be there in thirty --” Suddenly, her stomach dropped, her nausea intensifying. She left her car in the parking lot at Tracks -- nearly thirty miles away. “Actually, can you make it an hour? I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
There was an awkward pause on the other end of the line. When the coyote returned to the phone, he sounded breathless. “One hour. Get moving. And for God’s sakes, stay small.” The line disconnected.
Camelia let out a pained sigh. “I picked a fine morning to have a hangover,” she murmured. She looked over at her coffee machine, waiting for her input. “Looks like I’m taking this to go.” She hurriedly grabbed a thermos, adjusting the machine in order to allow the spigot to fit over the rim of the receptacle. In her haste, she gave herself a brief glance at the mirror and winced. Yep -- she looked like an absolute mess. She’d have to settle for the bare minimum for cleaning herself up; the walk to the university was relatively short, but time was not on her side.
------------------------------
Camelia glanced at her phone screen, sipping the last of her lukewarm coffee as she stood on the steps of the administration building. She settled for simpler attire -- a purple sweater with a matching ankle-length skirt. It wasn’t the more professional choice, but it would have to suffice on short notice. She was half-tempted to go against Edward’s warning and shift to cut down on her travel time, but thought better of it -- her stomach was still rolling, and any change of perspective risked pushing her past the point of no return. There was the matter of her glasses, too -- she still had an old prescription she kept for emergencies. If nothing else, she’d avoid going in half-blind, but the frame was thick, square and unflattering.
Right now, however, function was more important than appearance.
The canine walked up the weathered steps to make her way inside. The interior felt just as dated as the building itself. She was greeted by a long, featureless hallway which led towards a terribly plain-looking waiting room. Past that was an elevator that would take her straight to the fifth floor, and up to the Dean’s Office, where Edward was waiting. Camelia received a few errant stares from the desk staff as she walked past them to reach the elevator -- more than a few of them recognized her from her larger escapades, and tempting as it was to reciprocate, time wasn’t on her side.
The elevator rose up with a jittery start upon entering, followed by a quaint ding as she reached the fifth floor. By comparison, the top level had a modern appearance more fitting of an up-and-coming college campus, as a series of large windows overlooked the campus and the quad below. Edward was waiting for her outside of a set of ornate double-doors leading to the Dean’s Office. He looked up from his watch as Camelia approached, her purse slung over her shoulder.
“Sorry I’m late, Edward,” she said apologetically. The coyote gave her a cross look.
“About time. You’re lucky Ms. Tremaine was able to adjust her schedule on short notice --” Suddenly, Edward’s expression soured as he sniffed the air in front of her. “Have...have you been drinking?”
Oh, fantastic. That’s what I get for taking a page out of Nathan’s book. “No. W-well, not today, but I did have a drink or two last night.”
Edward let out an audible, exaggerated groan. “Terrific. You look like you just rolled out of bed, and you smell like it, too. This is going to be a disaster.” He began to pace around the hall, arms crossed over his chest.
“Calm down, Edward.”
“That’s Mister --”
“Yes, yes, I know. I’m not talking to Mister Forrester right now. I’m talking to you.” Trying her best to put on a smile -- a noble effort to disguise her own discomfort -- she placed a hand on Edward’s shoulder. “We’re just asking for a permit, that’s all. I’ll answer whatever concerns the Dean has.”
“That’s...not what worries me.” Edward looked at Camelia frankly. “This isn’t like talking to someone over dinner plans. This is the Dean of Pinewood University. She makes a lot of important decisions, both educational and fiscal. My family has a lot of history with her, and she’s not one to intervene without good reason. Don’t you find any of this unusual?”
Camelia shrugged her shoulders. “Not particularly. I mean, this is what we wanted, yes? This is our chance to improve relations between Forrester and the university. What better way than to go straight to the top? If anything, this is a blessing.”
“Or a sick joke,” he muttered under his breath.
As they spoke, the door opened, a stoat stepping into the waiting area. He gave Edward and Camelia a knowing look, his eyes lingering on Camelia more than she felt comfortable with. “Ms. Tremaine will see you now,” he said.
“Thank you,” Edward said as the stoat kept the door open. “Well, here we go.”
“Trust me, we’ll be fine,” Camelia said reassuringly. “This will be over before you know it.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of.”
The two canines entered the office, its appearance just as modern and minimalist as the rest of the upper floor; two of the office walls were lined with large windows overlooking the campus grounds below, capped off with a large desk placed at a diagonal angle between both sets. The desk seemed larger than necessary, given how tidy its owner kept it -- a small stack of neatly-kept papers in a small basket, a plain red stapler, an office telephone and laptop made up the entirety of its contents. Behind that computer sat a ringtail in her early fifties, typing away at her keyboard without looking up from her screen. A long finger adjusted a loose strand of auburn hair from her eyes, her attention focused on a long-winded document, which she wrote with a stern expression.
“Ms. Tremaine,” Edward said curtly. “I apologize again for keeping you --”
“Yes, yes, you’ve already apologized several times.” The ringtail’s response was just as curt, lowering the screen of her laptop as she crossed her arms on top of it. She gave Camelia a quick glance, her eyes twitching subtly as she noted her attire. “You must be the head librarian.”
“Yes, I am. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Tremaine.” Camelia stepped forward, offering her hand to the Dean.
“Hmm.” Ms. Tremaine gave the outstretched arm a dismissive look, her eyes returning to meet the Labrador’s instead of returning the gesture.
“Um.” The ringtail’s piercing gaze gave Camelia pause, quick to pull her hand back. She couldn’t shake the feeling that she was being observed underneath a magnifying glass.
“So, I take it you’re both here to discuss your request to use our grounds for a book sale in March,” Ms. Tremaine continued, returning her focus to the coyote. “May I inquire about the need to use our university as the site?”
“Well, Ms. Tremaine,” Edward started, reciting his practiced spiel. He had practiced it enough times in front of the mirror to have it memorized by heart. “As you know, we’ve been hoping to improve our relations with the campus over the years. We understand there’s been a bit of a...divide between us, and we’d like to mend that divide by working together with you, to let your students know that we’re available to help further their educational needs.”
“And you think selling a bunch of old books will accomplish that?” There was a cold calculation to Ms. Tremaine’s response.
“Well, not on its own, but we feel it would be a good first step,” Edward countered.
“I see. I’m still failing to understand why this can’t be done on your own property.”
Before Edward could respond, Camelia stepped forward to intervene. “If I may, Ms. Tremaine?” She didn’t wait for a reply. “We’ve wanted to help people for years now, students and teachers alike. It’s not about the money; we want to bring everyone together as a community, and everyone knows the university is the heart of the city. It just makes sense, if you think about it.”
The ringtail looked at Camelia, appearing momentarily incensed by the intrusion. Her expression softened into indifference as she returned her attention to Edward.
“It’s true that we haven’t seen eye-to-eye with your library for some time. I suppose I’m partly responsible for that. But I’m sure you’ll understand my hesitation to sign off on your request, given recent concerns.” Ms. Tremaine returned her attention to Camelia, her expression once again angry. “I’m sure you know what I’m talking about.”
The Labrador flinched. Her head was starting to spin again. “I’m...not sure I follow --”
“Don’t play stupid with me. I know you’re aware of my complaints about your behavior on-campus.” She stood up, walking around the desk to square herself up next to Camelia, standing a full head taller than she did. “Or do you not know how to read? Because that would be a very poor showing for someone in charge of a library.”
“I’m sorry? You don’t need to insult me --”
“I’ve received several reports of you terrorizing my students on numerous occasions over petty demands. You nearly flattened at least ten different students, not to mention the structural damage you’ve inflicted on Greene Hall.”
Despite her normally calm demeanor, Camelia could slowly feel the blood rushing to her head. “I apologize. I had no intention of causing any harm to anyone. All I was doing was encouraging your students to return their books to us in a timely manner.”
“And you decided that making yourself into a clumsy giant was the way to do it. Admit it, you enjoyed harassing them.” The ringtail folded her arms tightly over her small chest. “How do I know you won’t tear down our buildings if I let you have full reign over a major section of the campus?”
Camelia felt put on the spot. Edward stepped forward to intervene, but Camelia thrust her hand out, telling him to stay put. “Ms. Tremaine --”
“That wasn’t a question, Miss --” Ms. Tremaine paused, as if waiting for the Labrador to answer.
“I’m sorry, but I don’t give my last name under duress. Camelia will do just fine.”
“Camelia. Right.” The ringtail tapped her foot impatiently. “I don’t have much confidence in your ability to control yourself. You seem to have no impulse when it comes to harrassing my students over a couple of old books, and I see no reason to believe you won’t try to do the same with this sale of yours. And to be frank, the last thing this campus needs is a shifter coercing young and impressionable people in order to make a quick buck.”
Camelia’s fist clenched, her eyes narrowing as she took a step back. “With all due respect, Ms. Tremaine, how I choose to handle my business is none of yours. I don’t appreciate being talked to like I’m some kind of monster.”
“I never said you were a monster. A menace, though? Absolutely.” Ms. Tremaine’s words were deep, cutting, ruthless. “So far you’ve proven yourself unprofessional, unruly, and unkempt. If you can’t show enough respect to dress yourself properly for a business inquiry, why should I take any of your claims seriously right now?”
Camelia could feel a growl building in the back of her throat. Edward’s hand falling onto her shoulder snapped her out of her contempt.
“Perhaps we’re losing focus here,” Edward interrupted, looking down at the Dean. “I take full responsibility for Camelia’s actions, and I truly apologize for any trouble she may have caused, but if I may speak in her defense, I wouldn’t have picked her to run my library if I didn’t feel she wasn’t capable. She has proven herself invaluable to me, and I have no reason to believe she won’t do the same for you, if you give her the chance.”
Ms. Tremaine looked at the coyote sternly, but eventually acquiesced. “Yes. Perhaps you’re right. Our focus is on your permit, after all.” With a quick turn on her heel, she sat back down at her desk. “My next financial meeting is in two weeks. I’ll bring up your permit request at that time, and if the board deems it reasonable, we can discuss your needs in the coming weeks. Will that be all you need today?”
“For now,” Edward replied, nodding.
“Good. Then if you’ll excuse me, I have work to catch up on.” The ringtail lifted the monitor of her laptop back up, typing as if she hadn’t missed a single beat. Edward looked at Camelia, her expression an equal mix of anger and hurt as they headed for the door. Just before they could leave, Ms. Tremaine spoke up once more. “Oh, and Mr. Forrester?”
“Yes?”
“I’d keep your dog on a tighter leash, if I were you. Not everyone finds her antics as funny as she believes them to be. For your sake.”
“I’ll make sure she understands.” Camelia’s expression grew more sour as Edward held the door open for her. She went through begrudgingly, waiting for the coyote to go through himself and allowing the door to close behind her. The stoat had returned to his own desk just outside of the ringtail’s office, giving the two a cursory (if half-hearted) wave as they walked past. Camelia waited until they were out of clear earshot before letting out a brief groan of disapproval.
“The nerve of that woman,” Camelia said behind a now-blinding headache. “How dare she treat me like I’m some kind of...mindless animal! Her grievances with me have nothing to do with the library’s needs!” Edward’s eyes tried to avoid making contact with Camelia’s, but eventually, he caved.
“In her defense, you did punch a hole in the roof of Greene Hall with your...assets.”
Camelia blushed, hugging her chest tightly. She never thought much about her size in that respect, but having it brought up so blatantly instantly made her self-conscious. “That was an accident. And she didn’t have to be so blunt about it.”
“If you didn’t let her get under your skin so easily, we could have avoided that fiasco. But I digress.” He pressed the button on the elevator, waiting for the doors to swing open. “I wouldn’t worry yourself too much. Edie’s a bitter pill to swallow at times.”
“Edie?”
“That’s her first name. My father used to talk to her at great length in the past. She prefers to keep things professional, which I can respect.”
Camelia glowered at Edward. “I’d hardly call our talk professional.”
“She just takes her job seriously. Most people in her position would. But as I was saying, I wouldn’t panic just yet. She’ll say yes.”
The Labrador was taken aback. “Wait. Really? What makes you so sure?”
“Edie’s a lot like myself. She wants hard facts. Results. Kind, flowery words won’t get you very far.”
“But you opened with flowery words.”
“I did. But that’s also because I gave her assistant the hard figures for cost and what we expect our profit margins to be, as well as offering them a share of what we make as compensation. Going over those numbers was how I was able to buy you time to get down here.”
Camelia shook her head, squeezing herself tighter. “Edward, I told you this, already. I’m not doing this for gain. Our goal was always to mend our differences with the university. And after the way I talked down to that woman, I’m sure that won’t be happening anytime soon.”
Edward gave a short, brief shrug. “You lost your cool. It happens. Trust me, I know from experience.” The coyote fell silent, looking away from the Labrador. “Anyway. I’m sure Edie’s had a chance to look over the numbers. She just wants to make sure the figures match our intentions. Once she’s had a moment to review things properly, she’ll come around.”
“If you say so. But you didn’t answer my question. How do you know she isn’t going to turn us down?”
“I saw it in her face, Camelia. When you work in the business world, you pick up on tells. Facial expressions, word choice, tone, everything. It was subtle, but she was on board with our proposal.”
“Okay. So why did she give me the third degree?”
“Wouldn’t you if you were in her position? Granted, I hoped she would be a little gentler, but this went exactly as I expected.” A small chime rang out as the elevator doors swung open with a creak. Edward walked inside, waiting for Camelia to follow, before pressing the button for the ground floor. “Regardless, Edie’s smart enough to put her personal grievances aside if she sees an opportunity. She wouldn’t have entertained our request, otherwise. You’ll have your book sale, don’t worry.”
“Alright.” Camelia leaned against the elevator wall as it began to lurch downward, making her stomach bounce uncomfortably. “Edward? Can I ask you a personal question?”
“It’s just you and me. Go ahead.”
“When you stepped in...did you mean what you said? About me being invaluable?” Camelia’s voice wavered, a moment of hesitation shaking her self-confidence. Edward replied without turning around.
“You’ve done more to support my father’s legacy than I ever could. I made the right choice in putting you in charge. Despite our differences, I do consider you a valuable asset.”
“Um. I see. Thank you.” Camelia smiled softly; Edward wasn’t the best at giving out genuine compliments, but she took whatever she could get.
“But in the future, please take your position more seriously. What you did today was unacceptable, and unbecoming of you. You may be a giantess, but you’re still my employee, and I expect you to act as such. My library isn’t a doll house for you to play with, and neither is Edie’s school.”
All at once, the energy was sucked out of the Labrador. She nodded again, defeated. “Yes, Ed -- Mr. Forrester. Can...can I go home now? I don’t feel so well.”
“Yes, we’re done for now.” The elevator ride came to a merciful stop as the doors opened. “Also, in the future? Ginger tea.”
“Ginger tea? For what?”
“Your hangover. Drink a glass of ginger tea when you wake up. Helps with nausea.”
“Oh.” Camelia blushed brightly as she stepped out of the elevator. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Always helped me in my younger days.” For a moment, Camelia saw the faint hint of a smile on Edward’s otherwise sullen expression before he walked down the hallway and past the office desks, leaving Camelia with her thoughts. And her rolling stomach, along with whatever remained inside.
Holding her side, she reached back into her purse, pulling out her phone. She never read Irene’s texts, and now seemed like as good a time as any.
“hey lemme know u got this, u were pretty drunk when I dropped u off”
Camelia smiled, if somewhat bluntly, at Irene’s poor writing. The second message from her was much cleaner -- and made her heart sink.
“Look. I’m sorry. So is Zara. We didn’t mean to make such a mess of things. Please call. I don’t want this to be the last time we see each other.”
Camelia’s grip on her phone tightened. Irene wasn’t the one to ruin the night. It was her. She recalled the awful things she said in that instant, as a pit began to form in her gut. She’d apologize once she had time to rest. After she took Edward’s advice and brewed some ginger tea.
Her stomach, however, disagreed.
The ginger tea could wait. Finding a bathroom was a more pressing matter.
