Page 20 of The Beat of My Heart
The beat picks up and I’m dancing around my suite now, stopping every few minutes for another bite. “Who needs the gym when you have Pink?” I laugh to myself. “Singing, dancing, and eating are probably not a good combo, but I don’t give a rat’s ass. I have to prepare myself to present in front of four-hundred suits, and I’ll get ready however I please.” Now I am laughing hysterically, thinking about what all those men would say if they saw my pre-game routine. “Raise your glass. Hells yeah, Pink!” I shout, singing every other verse in between bites.
Lanes: Good luck today, Chica! Kick butt!
Julia: Thanks, biatch.
Lanes: Have you started your pre-game routine yet?
Julia: You know it. Just rocked out to Pink. I probably should have done this pre-shower because I’m all sweaty now and have to get dressed.
Lanes: It's all good. Guys give off testosterone or something, right? You give off your strong woman vibes and show all those stuck up suits who's the smartest of them all.
Lanes: What are you wearing today?
Julia: I’m not sure I want to be giving off my sweaty stank, but I get what you were going for ;)
Julia: I’m thinking about the red pantsuit?
Lanes: Ooh yes! That is hot! You’ll own the room for sure! Make sure you match it with the killer black heels I stuck in that bag. And, remember, minimal makeup and jewelry, let the suit do the talking.
Julia: You are so freaking weird.
Lanes: But you love me.
Julia: Always.
Lanes: Good luck, call me later. Luvs.
Julia: Luvs.
Throwing my phone on the bed as Britney Spears’Circuscomes on, I dance with jazz hands and shrug my shoulders, “I’m the circus star, ah huh, ah huh.” I really should work on my dance moves, but my lyrics are on fire. Lanie once told me I dance like a forty-year-old white man to this song, but whatever, I’m good with it.
Placing my hands on my hips, I stare at the closet like snakes will jump out at me. Here goes nothing. Taking the picture Lanie attached to the garment bag, I pull out the pantsuit. She is right, this will look so stinking hot.
Laying it all out on the bed, I can’t help the dance-shrugging happening with my shoulders. Dancing on my toes, I scrunch my nose and dance to the ugliest painting I’ve ever seen.Why do all hotels hang this shit?I lift my shirt over my head and twirl it like a stripper. “Let’s go, Jules. Let me see what you can do. All eyes will be on me at the conference, just like the boss, ah huh, ah huh,” I sing. Catching myself in the floor to ceiling mirror, I laugh. I had better tone it down or everyone in this hotel will know what a shit-show I am.
Thirty minutes later, I have everything on, just as Lanie had instructed. Taking a quick picture, I send it to her.
Julia: Good?
Lanes: Hot! You got this! Have you done your grand finale yet?
Julia: Just about to, I wanted to make sure I had everything right with the clothes first.
Lanes: Perfect. Go get them!
Julia: Luvs.
Lanes. You’re the man ;) Luvs.
Stepping into the torture device Lanie calls shoes, I make my way back to the mirror. Here goes. I have a routine when I have to give presentations like this. It includes a lot of badass female musicians, and I always end with Taylor Swift’s,The Man.
“Alright, Julia. You have this. You know your material better than anyone in this building, and you know that is not an exaggeration. You are smarter, faster, and the queen in the room full of jokers. Don’t let them dictate. Don’t let them talk over you. Never let them talk down to you. Put them in their place when they need it. Take their balls in your hands and crush them! Oh, yeah!” I fist-bump the air for good measure and press play.
“Everything I do shows you I’m the boss,” I sing just before putting my AirPods in. I know I’m probably shout-singing now, but I don’t give a shit. This is my pre-game pep talk, and I’ll do it my way.
Dancing around the room, I collect all my stuff for the day. Once I have it all gathered, I give myself one last glance in the mirror and smile. Lanie can be a pain in my ass, but she knows her stuff. I will slay these meetings.
Opening the door, I’m still singing, “I’m the man, I’m the man, I’m the man,” and I walk right into fucking Charlie.
