Breaking the Routine

“Good morning Mrs. Simpson,” Samantha Peters said brightly to the plump receptionist as she walked into the lobby of the small accounting firm her father owned and she worked at since high school.

“Good morning Sam, how are you today?” The receptionist asked just a cheery.

“I’m good, thank you.”

“Oh, tonight Tabby and you are flying out to New York, right?” Mrs. Simpson asked, with genuine interest.

Sam paused on her march to her desk and turned. “Yeah, pretty much as soon as we get off of work we’re heading to the airport.”

“Oh that’s good but be careful, though. You know what they say about those big cities,” Mrs. Simpson warned her with a look of motherly concern.

The look made Sam miss her mother who’d she lost when she was young to cancer. Smiling through the sudden loss she felt, Sam replied, “I will. I better hurry to my desk, before Mr. Peters comes out of his office. Talk to you later.”

Mrs. Simpson chuckled. “You do that dear.”

Sam hurried to her desk, sitting and turning on her computer, and gathering the papers she needed to present to her father that morning. She hoped he still wasn’t angry at her for what happened yesterday.

‘Here we go,’ she thought as she stood and with a quick knock, walked into the large office. “Good Morning Mr. Peters. I have the morning’s duties here for you as well as some documents that you need to look over.” With practiced precision, Sam set down the papers in front of him. He glanced up from whatever it was on the computer screen and gave her an icy glare.

“At least that something you manage to do correctly more times than not,” he stated, disapproval oozing from his voice. So he was still upset, she thought feeling the familiar sinking sensation she got when he used that tone.

“Dad,” she started, feeling the need to explain, but his eyes narrowed at her in a warning. “Mrs. Peters,” she corrected. Her father insisted that in the workplace she should address him as everyone else did. That way no one could ever think he gave her special treatment for being his daughter. It wasn’t exactly true. He did give her special treatment but she didn’t consider it a privilege. He expected so much more from her than anyone else.

“I want to apologize for yesterday,” she said. “I didn’t mean to offend the Holts and I swear bumping Mrs. Holt’s wine glass was a complete accident. And if I’m honest, I think she exaggerated it a bit. There wasn’t that much wine on her dress.”

Her father stared up at her, his face was hard and stern. The sinking feeling grew and Sam felt like a total and utter disaster. She wasn’t some awkward teen anymore, but twenty-three. Things like this were supposed to stop happening to her. Sighing with defeat, Sam said, “I’m sorry my social inadequacy cost you another important client and made you look bad.”

“It’s my fault in the end,” he said finally. His tone flat. “I should’ve known better than to invite you to that dinner. You’d think I’d learn my lesson by now. I guess I just keep hoping that one day you’ll grow out of this silliness of yours.”

“I’m sorry. I’m trying.”

He waved it off dismissively. “Yes, yes, Samantha. Just promise me that while on this ridiculous trip of yours to New York that you won’t make a fool of yourself. I can’t afford you to tarnish the Peters family name more than you already have.”

Sam flinched. ‘Ouch, that was below the belt.’ “I will be on my very best behavior,” she lied. The whole point of the trip was to for once stop being on her best behavior. To stop being the good girl for once or at least, that’s what her best friend, Tabby said was the purpose. Sam wasn’t yet convinced she was anything but what everyone saw in her - a good, unassuming, and albeit disaster, of a woman.

“And Remember, Sam, I want you here bright and early Monday morning for David Andrew’s arrival,” he warned her.

“I promise, Mr. Peters,” she replied and left her father’s office and saw a mischievous-looking blonde sitting on the corner of her desk. Instantly the shrinking feeling her father provoked in her disappeared and Sam smiled as she walked over to her friend. “May I do something for you, Ms. Mathews?”

“Oh God that makes me sound old,” Tabby said, scrunching up her face. It was quickly replaced with easy to read excitement. “Are you packed and ready?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be I guess. I don’t know what you expect to get out of this trip honestly, Tabby.” At her look, Sam rolled her eyes. “I know your whole “go wild” plan, but…”

“No buts,” Tabby told her. “All I am asking is you relax and let go. No more worrying about what daddy dearest, or what people will think, or any of that. Nothing that happens in New York will ever get back to anyone in this rinky-dink town.”

Now that was something she could get behind. Sam smiled, feeling a spark of excitement finally. With a soft laugh, she said, “I doubt even I could do something bad enough in New York to get all the way back here to my father.”

“Exactly,” Tabby replied, her smile widening.

“Then, I shall get back to work and see you later,” Sam told her, sharing Tabby’s smile before heading back to her desk to get back to work.

After work, Sam and Tabby left to catch their flight. Thank God, her friend was there to guide her through the chaos of the airports. Never having flown or stepped inside an airport, Sam instantly felt lost and overwhelmed.

The flight was short and the next thing Sam knew, she was in the heart of the city. Skyscrapers were living up to their names. She craned her neck to try to see the entirety of the buildings through the taxi’s window. There was nothing like this back home. Sam tore her eyes away from the large buildings and down to the streets. The street was bumper to bumper with cars and the sidewalk was just as full with people, quickly walking here and there.

Sam bit her lip, feeling a nervous excitement as they got out of the taxi and she took another look around. Frank Sinatra’s song “New York, New York” kept running through her head. “Come on Sam let’s not waste any time! Let’s go out tonight,” Tabby cheered as they took their luggage out of the trunk. Sam shrugged with a smile and paid the driver. Everything felt so different from home that she started to believe that maybe anything was indeed possible.

Her excitement grew as they checked in and went to their room. Maybe she really could shed off the whole “good girl” routine and become more like the women she’d always envied, the sexy, confident women that could get anything they wanted.

However, four hours later, that excitement had dwindled to dull disappointment as Sam slid the electronic key into the door of their hotel room. She peeled off her damp dress. Some guy had spilled his drink on her as he pushed past her to crudely hit on Tabby. He didn’t even apologize. ‘Asshole,’ she thought bitterly tossing the clothing into one of the bathroom sinks and turned on the shower. Who was she kidding? Sam would never be the type of woman who captured the attention of those around her.

Tabby may have enjoyed herself, but Sam hadn’t enjoyed anything about her first night in New York. The club they went to was horrible. It was so dark she nearly fell on her face several times and so smoky Sam figured her chances of getting lung cancer increased five percent. The music was a horrible electronic thumping that sounded like something long lost from the eighties. If all that wasn’t enough to make her evening a disaster then there were the patrons.

They all looked like major scumbags, which only made their lack of attention to Sam feel all the harsher. Her confidence had plummeted. If the “bang’em and leave’em” guys didn’t give her a second glance who else would. Sam sighed, depressed as she got under the hot streaming water. This was a terrible idea.

After her shower, Sam put on a fluffy white robe, feeling a little better, and left the bathroom. “Hey Sam, how are you feeling?” Tabby asked cautiously.

She gave her friend a defeated shrug as she sat on her bed. “I’m alright I guess but I think I’d rather just visit the shops or do some sightseeing this weekend instead of doing the whole “go wild” thing.”

“Awe, don’t give up yet! I’ll find the best club New York has to offer and I promise we’ll have some real fun.”

The refusal was on the tip of Sam’s tongue. She didn’t think she could stomach another night of clubbing. Yet, she sighed, knowing she could never refuse her friend. Especially when Tabby pulled the puppy dog’s eyes look on her. “Fine. I’ll give the “go wild” plan another shot.”

“Great,” Tabby said, nearly shouting. “You’ll see! Tomorrow night is going to be so much better.”

Sam doubted it. Just as a tiger couldn’t change its stripes, Sam wouldn’t be able to fit in a place like a big city nightclub, but instead of saying any of this Sam gave Tabby a tight smile as a reply. At least, she’d have in the morning and afternoon to go shopping and do some sightseeing so the trip wouldn’t be a complete waste.