Amber, the Bubbly Blonde from Marketing
By Davina Lee
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About this ebook
That's how coworker Dani sees her, anyway. But when Dani is roped into one of Amber's volunteer outings, she gets to know the kindhearted person behind the constant smile. And as their affection begins to blossom, she gets a peek at the true source of Amber's boundless energy.
Follow Dani and Amber on a wild rollercoaster ride that will have you laughing one minute and crying the next. Dive into this collection of five tales and find out the unique circumstances that make Amber so energetic and the way love prevails.
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Amber, the Bubbly Blonde from Marketing - Davina Lee
Shallows
Chapter 1: Free Gravy
I dragged my body into work Monday morning with the only thought on my mind being how much I needed a vacation. This project I was up to my eyeballs in was running behind schedule, and the hours we put in to make up the difference were nearly unbearable. On top of that, I had signed up for a photography class at the community college—I don’t know what I was thinking—and I had a final project due in just two weeks. I need a vacation, I repeated in my mind, or at least some comp time.
But when I walked into the lobby, I got Amber, the bubbly blonde from marketing instead.
Amber, with her perfect hair, dressed in the cutest business casual, was standing behind a table that looked like it had been strategically placed to be tripped over as soon as anyone walked through the main entrance. On the left side, somebody had created an adorable miniature Giza pyramid of Little Friskies cat food cans. On the right it was the Mayans with Alpo. Behind the table was modern architecture, with bagged dry food on a wooden pallet.
In the middle of the table, next to where Amber stood, were a dozen or so photos of the saddest looking animals I had ever seen. At first glance, these pitiful creatures looked like they were straight out of the ASPCA’s holiday fund raiser ads. On closer inspection, I amended that thought. These weren’t the ASPCA’s sad critters, they were their poorer country cousins. Jeez, they looked depressing.
But not Amber. Amber was perky as all get out—obnoxiously so—particularly for a Monday morning. Hiii, I’m Amber, from marketing,
she said. I’m helping with the pet food drive for the County Animal Shelter. Would you like to make a donation to save the kitties?
I rolled my eyes just a little. I don’t think she noticed. Sorry, I don’t have any pet food on me at the moment.
Amber was not deterred, not in the slightest. She spun around and produced a small blue pail that rattled with coins when she shook it. That’s okay, Dani,
she said. We take cash too.
Um.
How did she know my name? I didn’t even have my ID badge on yet. I made a show of patting my jeans pockets. Sorry, sister, I forgot my wallet at home.
I turned and walked down the hall toward cubicle land. I hadn’t left my wallet at home. I’m just a bad person, that’s all. I turned down my row and shuffled over to my desk.
* * * *
The next day I was smart. I came in through the building’s side entrance. It was a longer trek in from the parking lot, but it was worth it. Good exercise, I told myself. And, no Amber from marketing to be seen.
Hi Daniii.
I nearly jumped out of my skin. It was Amber. By the time I met her gaze, she had pulled out her combination cell phone case, credit card holder and started digging for something. Amber produced a business card with County Animal Shelter written in bold letters, along with a phone number and address.
Here you go,
she said, thrusting the card in my direction. They take PayPal too.
I stared at the card and blinked.
Think of the kitties,
she whispered like a wraith. And then she was gone. As mysteriously as she had appeared, Amber from marketing vanished. I turned my gaze back to the business card in my hand, the only shred of evidence that she was actually here, and not some hallucination brought on by overwork and sleep deprivation. Sure enough, there was a PayPal logo in the lower right corner, next to the Visa and MasterCard symbols.
* * * *
Somehow, I survived the week. I talked my way out of coming in on Saturday by saying I would work from home. I still hadn’t unpacked my laptop. Instead, I was sitting at the table staring at my camera gear. For my photography final, I needed to create an electronic portfolio with one of each type of photographic technique we learned.
I snapped a shot of my cereal bowl with the vague notion of calling it still life, but then deleted it. This wasn’t a college credit class, it was just for fun, but I had taken it to improve my technique, so it seemed wrong to slack off.
I should go down to the park and photograph some flowers. That would be nice. Maybe, I could