7: Full Disclosure
“So is married life everything you thought it would be?”
Without notice, Justin pulled his phone from his ear, pausing his conversation with his friend Rob, to approach the receptionist of the warehouse-like building he had just entered. “Hey, could you tell me where I can find Lee Eisenberg or Gene Stupnitsky?”
The plain Jane grinned in his direction and pointed down a long, taupe hallway. “At the end of the hall, take a left, and then all the writers’ offices will be right there. Gene and Lee share a suite, you’ll see their names on the door.”
“Thanks,” he nodded, putting his phone back up to his ear. “Sorry, dude, what’d you say?”
“I asked if being married to Scarlett is as spectacular as I imagine it is.”
“Ah man,” Justin sighed, moving down the corridor, “to be honest, I don’t even know.”
“What you mean you don’t know?”
“Well you know she’s been in New York preparing for this play--.”
“That’s right,” Rob recalled.
“And I’ve been here rehearsing for a movie and trying to be an ‘actor,’ so all four weeks of our marriage have been pretty nonexistent.”
“That shit sucks.”
“It sucks a little bit,” Justin nodded, just as he passed an office with the name ‘Zooey Levin’ plastered across the door. He couldn’t help but do a double take as he replied, “It’ll be all right, though. We have our lives to spend together.”
“That’s true, this is just the beginning.”
“Right.” He ended up doing a triple take, trying to figure out why he would be seeing “ or imagining? “ Zooey’s name was on a door. And then it dawned on him that obviously, as writers for the same television show, Gene and Lee’s office would be in the same building as Zooey’s. “God, I’m stupid,” he chuckled to himself.
“What?” Rob snorted.
“I’m talkin’ to myself.”
“What I tell you about that, man?”
“I told you, I can’t help it.”
“Voices in your head,” Rob commented, shaking his head at his friend. “What you gettin’ into today?”
“Well, I’m here at this place where they shoot The Office, I think. I’m meeting with two of the writers.”
“Uh oh, is Zooey one of them?”
“She’s not, actually,” he laughed, finally locating the door he had originally been searching for. “These dudes, Lee and Gene, they wrote this movie I’m doing. They wanted to do some revamps and get my input.”
“I got you, I got you.”
“So… after that, I dunno. What you doin’?”
“Ah man, probably gonna hit the gym in a bit and then head to the studio.”
“You stay in that studio, man.”
“Hey, it pays the bills.”
Just when Justin was about to come up with some uninspired reply, he heard laughter behind him and he couldn’t help but turn to the sound, knowing who he’d find behind him. It was Zooey, and the smile in her laugh caught his eye before anything else. Before he really saw her freckled face or joyful green eyes, before he noticed her upswept hair or adorable striped cardigan over a flowery sundress, the first thing he noted was her smile, and it made him smile, too. It was involuntary, the last thing he wanted to do was let her know he was happy to see her, but he couldn’t stop himself. That is, until he realized she was holding hands with another guy. Then, the smile disappeared and he snapped back into reality. “Rob, lemme call you back,” he finally told his friend after a little too long.
“Yeah,” he finished.
Justin entered the writing duo’s large suite, but finding it empty, turned right back out, unsure of what he wanted to do. Stand there, pretending he still didn’t see Zooey heading in his direction? Go back to his car and wait for a call to come back in? If he stood there any longer, going back and forth through that one door, he would look like a crazy person.
Having not decided on anything, still standing between a hall and a doorway, he watched Zooey and her companion part ways, her heading into her office, him entering an office adjacent to hers. Who was this guy, Justin wondered. More importantly, who was he to Zooey?
Unwilling to question it anymore, he went to Zooey’s door, prepared to grovel while prying. But when he reached her office, where the December sun was beaming through her windows, illuminating her golden features, he found himself silenced.
She looked up from a stack of papers, not surprised to find him standing in front of her, but unsure of what he could possibly be there for other than to see her. “Hey.”
“Hey,” he returned dryly, hesitant of how he’d be received.
“What are you doing here?”
He removed his sunglasses from his eyes and gave her an awkward glance as he shook his head. “I’m here for work.”
“Same,” she nodded, holding up a script. “What kind of work are you doing?”
“Well I think I told you I was working with Gene and Lee on a film, right?”
“Right,” she was nodding again, trying to hide the fact that her ego had just been put in major check. “Yeah, Bad Teacher.”
“Right…”
“So… that’s cool.”
“Yeah…” Feeling suffocated by all the awkwardness surrounding them, Justin wanted to put the bad blood behind them and apologize. “Zooey, I know the last time we talked, I was really shitty to you--.”
“You were,” she confirmed coolly. “But I don’t wanna talk about it.”
“Well I just wanted to say that I’m sorry.”
“I don’t wanna talk about it,” she maintained, rising from her seat. She willed him into the room, shutting her door behind him. “You were out of line, but… so was I. Let’s just let it go.”
“What did you do?”
“I dunno, I think that… with you and your fiancée and all your ‘baggage’ or whatever, I put myself in a situation I shouldn’t have and I lashed out at you. Or her. I don’t know.”
“I don’t think you said anything you should feel bad for.”
“I did.”
“Well… whatever you said, you are forgiven for.” He forced out a smile and watched her reclaim her seat. “You forgive me?”
“Yep.”
Nodding slowly and uneasily, he sat down in one of her two extra chairs, both of which were full of stacks of papers also. He glanced over his surroundings, taking note of her ample but messy space. She sat at a big glass table that served as her desk, which did nothing to hide her collection of shoes in one corner and box of Flaming Hot Cheetos in the other. There were filing cabinets to her left, but with all the paper scattered everywhere else, he couldn’t imagine that they weren’t empty. And most curiously, she had a big iMac monitor situated to her right, but a MacBook sitting in front of her, which made him chuckle as he figured it must take quite a bit of work to be who she was.
“So…” he finally broke the considerable silence, “Who’s your new dude out there?”
“What?” she frowned, clearly still annoyed by his mere presence.
“The guy you came down the hall with. You were holding hands, I just assumed…”
“Jonathan?” she laughed loudly at the absurd thought. “Oh god.”
“He’s… not?”
“No!” she was still laughing. “He’s just a colleague. I hold hands with lots of people.”
“Oh.”
“Is that why you came down here acting all remorseful and shit?”
“No, I mean, I really am sorry! I just…”
“God, you’re an asshole.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be offensive, I was just--.”
“Fuck it,” she waved him off, not wanting to go down another unnecessary and unpleasant road with him. She leaned back in her chair, grabbing another script and then brought herself face to face with Justin again. “So how’s the fiancée, anyway?”
“I don’t know if you’re just being sarcastic, but she’s not my fiancée anymore.”
“You broke up?” she asked, clearly a little too optimistic at the notion.
He let out a short chuckle and then held up his left hand, which showcased his new platinum wedding band. “No.”
“Oh.” Zooey tried to force out a smile, but she could feel it coming off as more of a wince.
“So… yeah.”
“Wow. Congratulations.”
“Thank you,” he nodded.
“When was the wedding?”
“Umm… about a month ago?”
“Has it been that long since we’ve talked?”
“It has,” he confirmed. “I was really busy, so… sorry about disappearing. If you were looking, that is.”
“Well, I wasn’t looking,” she returned dryly. “But you did cross my mind a few times.”
“Same here.”
“You could’ve called to apologize, you know.”
“You said you didn’t wanna talk to me.”
“You could’ve called,” she repeated, finally showing the slightest hint of a smile.
“You missed me?”
“You missed me,” she told him as though she knew it was a fact. “…And I missed you.”
“Clearly,” he offered distractedly as his phone vibrated in his hand. It was Gene, more than likely calling to commence their meeting, but Justin was not ready to end his interaction with Zooey “ not after they’d been separated for so long.
“Okay,” Zooey began, noticing his preoccupation with his phone, “so… I guess I’ll see you around?”
Dumfounded, he asked, “Where are you going?”
“Oh come on, I know what the phone glance means. It’s the silent way of saying, ‘Yeah, I’ve checked out of this conversation now, thanks.’”
“It’s just a nervous habit,” he countered genuinely, as he honestly did not want to leave. “It’s not like that at all.”
She wanted to believe him, because she certainly didn’t want him to want to leave, but his actions spoke something completely different. “You’re a liar.”
He checked his phone again, as if something had changed drastically within those few seconds. “Are you free for lunch?” he questioned out of the blue.
A bit stunned, Zooey stumbled over her thoughts and all that came out was, “What?”
“I asked if you were free for lunch,” he repeated, a bit more confident this time. “I mean, if you’re hungry, that is. I know it’s only eleven, so if you’re not, I--.”
“No, I’m always hungry,” she cut him off to accept. “And I’m free, yeah.”
“Yeah?”
She nodded, though still a bit wary of him. “As long as your wife doesn’t mind.”
“Pretty sure she wouldn’t,” he winked. “Do you like Le Petit Four?”
“Never heard of it.”
“On Sunset? Really?”
She shook her head but agreed to it anyway. “I like French food. Let’s do it.”
“Let’s… do it,” he repeated in agreement, glad that she was open enough to consider going out with him again. “I’ll meet you there?”
“Uhhh… okay? Yeah.”
“I mean, she wouldn’t mind me having lunch with you, but riding in the same car might be pushing it.”
“I gotcha,” she accepted hesitantly. “I’ll meet you there.” Rather excited, Zooey left the conversation to head for her Range, anxiously anticipating the next few hours with her newly reunited friend.
____________________
About half an hour later, Zooey and Justin had been seated in a corner of the restaurant’s busy sidewalk seating area, exploring the menu while ignoring the fact that people were gawking at Justin.
“Have you ever had a French martini?” Zooey wondered as she closed her menu.
“I don’t think I’ve ever had the pleasure.”
“Oh, you are in for a treat, sir.” She signaled for their waitress and took it upon herself to order him one. “To start, could we get him a French martini? And I’ll have a white sangria.”
“Sure,” the waitress nodded, glancing to Justin to make sure he was all right with that. “You’re good?”
“I’m just following her lead,” he agreed nonchalantly.
“Coming right up.”
Zooey cheekily watched their waitress walk away and then looked back to Justin. “Does it ever get boring?”
“Your company?” he guessed sarcastically. “It can get a little redundant, but… no, I wouldn’t say boring. I’m someone who craves routine.”
“I sensed that,” she pretended to accept his answer, willing herself to ease back into their charming way of interacting with one another. “But also, I was asking about the people that constantly stop and stare at you. How does that make you feel?”
“Umm. A little bit like a caged animal,” he admitted. “But I figure at least they usually don’t throw things.”
Smiling, Zooey grabbed a sugar packet from the small basketful on their table and chucked it at her lunch companion. “Ha.”
He only blinked as it hit his forehead and fell back to the table. “Rude.”
“I was just trying to make you feel more comfortable.”
“What do you know, it worked.”
She grinned again and took a sip of her water while he stared at her. “Tell me about your wedding,” she requested when she began to feel a bit uneasy.
“My wedding was awesome,” he stated sincerely. “You should’ve been there.”
“That’s so nice to hear. So often, I’m invited to weddings that are kind of terrible, so it’s great to know that I was actually not invited to an awesome one. Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.”
She was going to reply with another nonsensical statement, but she noted their drinks making their grand arrival and stopped herself. “Ooh lala,” she commented when Justin’s cocktail was served.
He gave a hesitant look to the tan-colored concoction and then looked at Zooey. “What’s in this?”
“I’m not gonna tell you,” she smiled mischievously. “Just drink.”
Not one to back down from a challenge, Justin took a long sip from his martini and immediately winced at the taste. “What the fuck is that?”
“It’s good, right?”
“Zooey. What’s in that?”
“Ummm. Chambord, pineapple juice, vodka, and a hint of vanilla schnapps.”
“You’re fucking evil.”
“I’m sorry,” she laughed quietly. “I do it for that one look people get when they first realize that they’re tasting actual shit in liquid form.”
“Evil!”
“I am a little evil,” she nodded. “I didn’t warn you of that?”
“No, you didn’t warn me of that,” he mocked her as he took a big gulp from his glass of water. “You’ve ruined my whole tongue, you know.”
“In that case, I send Scarlett my sincerest regrets.”
“You just don’t want me to like you, do you?”
“Of course I do!”
“Every time I stop thinking you’re a psychopath, you do something to prove that I should’ve listened to my intuition,” he supplied, shaking his head.
“Well how about this, let’s just officially subscribe to the notion that I am a psychopath and then you’ll know exactly what to expect out of me.”
“We can do that,” he chuckled. “Immediately lower the bar.”
“Exactly.”
“I like it.”
“I wish people really did that, by the way,” she appended enthusiastically. “I wish that when you met people, it was like, ‘Hi, I’m so-and-so. Just so neither one of us wastes our time, here’s all the weird shit you need to know about me beforehand. If you can deal with it, awesome, welcome to my world; and if you can’t, well… hey, have a great life.’ You know?”
“Really? You’d prefer it if I was like, ‘Hi, I’m Justin. When I eat, I compartmentalize everything on my plate and then eat the foods in alphabetical order.’ That’s what you want?”
“I’d prefer that, yeah,” she chuckled heartily. “Full disclosure,” she called it. “Hi, I’m Zooey and I have a slight obsession with the shapes of people’s toes.”
Justin blinked at Zooey for a long moment and then finally returned with one. “I’m Justin. I absolutely believe in ghosts, and for that reason, I refuse to go anywhere near a cemetery. Ever.”
“I’m Zooey and I’ve had three donuts today. And I’ll probably have three more before the end of the day.”
“As many times as I’ve sung it, I still don’t really know how the Star Spangled Banner goes.”
“You unpatriotic son of a bitch,” she laughed in response as she realized that any bad feelings she previously had about him were quickly melting away as they talked.
“Hey, love me or leave me alone.”
“I saved iTunes’ email address under a pseudonym in my phone so that it looks like some guy is constantly emailing me.”
“You’re lonely, huh?”
“I am, quite often.” She was kidding, but… she was serious.
Justin feigned a sad face before continuing. “My mom bought me condoms until the age of twenty-eight.”
“Wowwww.”
“I’m twenty-eight, by the way.”
“Whenever I go jogging “ or rather, that one time I went jogging last year “ I put on Viva La Vida and pretended I was in a Nike commercial.”
“Sometimes, I just like to steal.”
“You got that from Chris Rock,” she proclaimed as if he didn’t know.
“That doesn’t make it any less true,” he rebutted. “There’s a good chance I’ve taken something out of your purse without your knowledge.”
“That’s very Costanza-esque of you.”
“George was not a klepto, if I recall correctly.”
“Yeah, but it’s totally something he would do.”
“Fair enough,” he accepted after little thought. “I think it’s your turn.”
“Okay… brace yourself,” she warned before taking a deep breath. “I started smoking when I was twelve, I started drinking when I was fourteen.”
“Are you serious?” he paused their little game to ask.
“Very,” she nodded slowly. “It was my coping mechanism. I had a batshit crazy mother who cheated on my dad incessantly and she made me keep it from him. That was when I started smoking. Then, she left him and took me with her “ left my sister with him “ and that’s when I started drinking.”
“Wow.”
“Speaking of which, I always get nervous when I hear a vacuum cleaner because my dad used to turn on the vacuum to drown out the sound of them arguing. And so, now, I never vacuum anything.”
“Zooey--.”
She put up her hand to signal that she didn’t want to be interrupted. She needed to get some of this out, once and for all. “My mom drove me insane. She had me on pills at the age of thirteen because she didn’t want to deal with my ‘moods.’ Between the ages of fourteen and nineteen, I didn’t really know what it was like to feel anything.”
“Nothing?”
“Nothing genuine. Nothing emotional,” she realized. “I felt happiness and sadness, but it was manufactured. I was emotionally placid for years, and honestly, it fucked me up.”
“You seem balanced now, though.”
“I’m not. Maybe I just play the role convincingly enough, but I definitely use comedy as a defense method, and it all comes from a place of extreme darkness.”
“That’s kind of sad,” he noted.
“Even sadder, I think the older I get, the more I come to the realization that I hate my mother for doing that to me. For giving up, for saying, ‘Okay, instead of dealing with these problems, instead of owning up to the mistakes I’ve made, I’m going to cover them up with psychoanalytical nonsense and… prescription drugs. It makes me feel like I was a lab rat and not a daughter.”
Justin didn’t know much of pain in his privileged life. He’d had a wonderful childhood, and he certainly couldn’t complain about any of his adult years. He and Scarlett were like the poster children for a fairytale “ sickeningly happy from past to present. He couldn’t imagine what it must have been like to be in Zooey’s situation, trying to overcome something you never had control over, like a shitty parent. It actually made her a bit more charming when he thought about it. “Well everything that she did turned you into who you are now, so you can be thankful that she made you go through something… it helped you get to something,” he offered encouragingly.
“I know. Honestly, it’s fine, it makes me real. I’m flawed.”
“You are definitely real.”
She smiled softly and watched him take a sip of his water. “By the way, I lied. I’ve had five donuts today. And I’ll probably still have three more.”
He gave her a comforting smile in reply. “A Roomba is a good alternative to a vacuum cleaner. They’re quiet.”
“Thanks,” she returned, gazing at him fondly. “But honestly, I probably still wouldn’t vacuum.”
“I figured.”
“You know me so well…”
“I don’t think I know you at all,” he was starting to see for himself. And maybe that was why he was so drawn to her. He couldn’t figure her out, he couldn’t always read her, he couldn’t place her in a box and assume that she would fit neatly into it. She was someone who held hands with coworkers and was drinking vodka and taking Xanax in middle school. She worked hard but played often and she wore things that didn’t always go together. She kept a clean house and a messy office, she was funny, she ate horribly, and she said everything she was thinking. She was always thinking. No, Zooey Levin didn’t fit in anyone’s box. He liked that. “But I look forward to getting to know you.”
Author's Chapter Notes:
I'm having so much fun with this story thanks to you guys and all the fantastical reviews! Thank you so much for every single encouraging word, you don't know how inspring it is. Anywho, I'm running out to dinner, but I will reply to everyone, I promise! I say this all the time, but really, I love y'all! -Ash
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