Unbreakable.
He needed a new phone, one with a better caller ID. The damn thing was old as fuck, now it only stored a number if he logged it in himself and gave the number a name. Otherwise, everyone showed up as unknown.
But maybe that was the point, fate’s hint to just let it go. If it were meant to be he would’ve bought a new phone a long time ago so that this could have never occurred. And anyway it was Tuesday morning already. If his dysfunctional piece of shit of a phone wasn’t a clue, this most definitely was. Fuck the Three Day Rule, not only was that usually a guy thing… but this was going on the fourth day… she wasn’t going to call.
Being in a four year relationship had really thrown off his game. Before, there had never been a time when he couldn’t decipher a woman’s true intentions. If Greta’s naivety was just a front he would’ve easily seen through it. Easily.
He missed his old self. The Justin that was not predictable, that loved Jess so much it made him want to cry sometimes, that loved his job, loved looking in the mirror knowing that he was something special, the Justin that loved life. He was practically a fucking zombie now. Shuffling through, lucky to end each day without wanting to punch somebody in the face. The old Justin would’ve never had the initial reaction he had to Greta during that first phone call. He wouldn’t have been so annoyed the way everything annoyed him these days. And he wouldn’t be craving this complete stranger’s attention.
But she was like a breath of fresh air.
No one had ever made him feel like that. Because he used to be the one that others considered refreshing.
***
“Your drink was on the house, and the cashier said this belonged to you.” Michelle set down his coffee along with a folded piece of paper. A note? He couldn’t stop himself from looking so eager, opening it immediately.
Isn’t chai the greatest? Izzy got me into it & now she only drinks lattes. What a ho. Just kidding! She’s not really a whore, it’s just an immature joke. It all started when she decided to think like a guy & date 2 ppl @ once. That was during our freshman year in college. Poor girl has too much heart to cheat (we’re both strong believers in karma) She felt way too guilty & confessed. She helped me see, though, that everything that could happen just from accepting your proposition would be a mistake. I’m w/ Alec---who by the way is not cheating :) we talked about it---& maybe you have a gf; there’s no reason for us---2 strangers---to have lunch. What would we talk about?
What would we NOT talk about?
Therefore I left Cindy a 5; that should cover whatever you order. I really am grateful for your kindness; I know, this is a small way to show my appreciation---you should’ve just let me send you the wine!---but @ least it’s something right? Thank you, thank you, thank you, a million times thank you, but pls don’t send me any more notes.
- G
He scoffed. His ears were beginning to turn red from embarrassment. He looked at Michelle who was peering at him curiously.
“That is for you right?”
But he didn’t see her. He was too busy trying to figure out the valid reaction he should be having, now that it had been confirmed that she was never going to call again.
***
Relief! Disappointment. Dejection. REjection. Intrigued.
He was intrigued.
“What up dawg!”
He’d decided to make it a long night; work was always good for diluting confusion, bringing him back to reality. So he’d been rejected… Why was he having such a hard time accepting this? The old Justin would’ve brushed it off.
The old Justin would’ve never gotten in so deep to begin with.
He regarded Trace off-handedly. “What up.”
“Gym tonight?”
He shook his head.
Trace sat on his desk. “Sex phone operator got you buggin’ again?” He looked up to see his best friend wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.
He smirked. “Nah.”
Trace rolled his eyes. “You’re lying. You’re addicted and you’re ashamed, and now you’re lying to me.”
If he didn’t sound so serious Justin wouldn’t have laughed, but since when had this boy become so interested in sex phone operators? Was he doing a little late night calling these days himself, or what? Justin shoved his best friend lightly, “Trace, shut up,“ causing him to laugh too.
Trace leaned in. “What does her voice sound like?”
And without hesitation, he answered, “Sweet.” He noted the confused look on Trace’s face, but continued. “She talks a lot which would be annoying if she were any other woman, but she sounds so sweet that it’s actually endearing. It sucks you in, how genuine she is.” A pause as he sat back and really pondered Trace’s question. “She sounds… real.”
And it would’ve been a touching moment (this moment where he finally began to realize why he was having such a hard time accepting the note) had Trace not crinkled his nose and said, “Ew, that’s so not sexy. That’s borderline pedophile, dude. Little girls are supposed to sound sweet, not the chick causing blood to rush to your dick.”
Oh, what a spectacular way with words Trace had.
Now it was Justin’s turn to roll his eyes. “Dude, I’m working, fuck off. We can work out tomorrow.”
Trace scoffed before hopping off the desk. “Tomorrow is Michelle’s birthday remember?”
Fuck! No, he didn’t remember. “Shit!”
“You forgot Michelle’s birthday? After you made such a big deal about all of us going to the bar after work to celebrate?” Trace shook his head. “If it ain’t the sex talk broad… who’s got you buggin‘? Seriously, dawg, I want to know.”
Justin sighed heavily. He could give Trace a name, but in essence the question of who Greta was, was a mystery… even to him.
***
If he hurried he could make it before the flower boutique across from the coffee shop closed. They were known for their late hours since no florist in their right mind would really stay open until nine. Who bought flowers after six P.M.?
My dumb ass.
But what else could he get Michelle? It was too late, he wouldn’t have time before work tomorrow morning, and she liked tulips. She’d appreciate them.
He double parked, put on his hazards, and ran inside.
No one at the register. He checked his watch: 8:55. Hopefully this wasn’t one of those places that said nine and really started closing around 8:30. Although, everything seemed to be in place already, done with today and prepared for tomorrow. He rang the bell on the counter, his foot tapping impatiently.
“One second!” That voice sounded familiar. “I dropped some flowers back here, silly me, juggling too many things at once---” Way too familiar. “---I’ll be right with you. Ow! Rose thorn! I’m okay! In case, you were alarmed. I’d be alarmed. Come in to order flowers and next thinking you know your florist is pricking herself, screaming ‘ow.’ Ah, damn, I’m bleeding…” The voice began to come closer. “You wouldn’t happen to have a band-aid would you? We lost our first aid kit and the owner has yet to buy…” She emerged, taking him in. For once her voice almost caught in her throat rendering her speechless, but never one to not have anything to say, she did what she’d been trained to do. She greeted him. “Hi, welcome to Rose & Rose, are you looking for anything in particular?”
He smiled despite how awkward this was. “Hi.” Despite how awkward he was.
“Hi.” Despite how awkward she was.
And thanked God for blessing him.
He’d been trying to muster up the “right reaction” ever since he’d read the note, and standing here now feeling so happy to see her couldn’t possibly be right, but he had to be honest with himself… even if it was the wrong reaction. He was relieved.
Maybe he didn’t have to forget her after all, maybe the whole point was that he wasn’t supposed to. Running into each other at the coffee shop, and now here…? That had to be proof of something. This was her place of work, only two blocks away from where he worked. Coincidence? Hell no.
This thing they had going was unbreakable. This was meant to be.
