Chapter 2: The Plan

Rebecca arose early, took a long shower, intricately styled her hair into an updo, painstakingly applied a face of makeup that would put Max Factor to shame, doused herself in enough Chanel No. 5 to poison an elephant and scoured her wardrobe for a business smart outfit becoming of a feminine, but modern romance heroine.
She had anticipated this day since her early teens. In the romance novels, the heroine would meet her Mr. Right, and go through a complete makeover to make him notice her in a romantic way. That’s what she would do with JC, but instead of completely changing herself, just polish herself up a bit. That included waking up half an hour earlier to build a helmet out of her hair and shave off the rest.
She had chosen a satin white blouse and a pleated black skirt for the first day of her plan, pairing it with black patent leather Mary Jane pumps and a white g-string to make her feel extra sexy. At 20 to 8, she held a single piece of honey on toast in her teeth as she walked down to her car and drove to work.

Throughout the day, she drafted flyers for Bryant’s upcoming pre-summer sale, sat in on an advertising meeting, submitted her draft for the flyers, had them approved, then finalised and submitted the final copy for another round of approvals, all whilst her perfume faded, her makeup wore off, and her updo was let down and shaken out like her enthusiasm that she would be working with him that day.

Deflated, Rebecca tried not to limp down to the parking lot and back to her car. She sighed as she sat in the driver’s seat, frustratedly yanking and pushing the various levers on her car as she drove, not towards home, but through a drive-through for a chicken sandwich and then to a late hours craft store. With a cheap canvas in hand, she drove home and painted her frustration out.

She tried again the next day, choosing a yellow sweater to go with her smart gray business slacks and a pearl necklace. She slicked her hair down into a low bun and used half a box of Band-Aids on her Mary Janes and her newly formed blisters.

By lunch, she was getting curious why he hadn’t appeared in the Marketing Department yet. She looked around the department, biting her lip as she reached across her desk and grabbed the large, yellow cord she needed to connect to the internet. She logged onto the network and downloaded the new staff directory from the company-wide email from two days prior.
She scrolled down to the “S” pages, skimming down to the “Sh” section, looking for his surname. But as Shackles became Shagwood and Sharpe became Sheldon, she gave up hope that she was going to find him, despite the document supposedly being up to date.

Then she saw it. “Timberlake.” She could email Justin, ask him where JC was, get an answer, simple as that. So she did.
“Hey, where’s JC?”
She paused, debating whether or not she could be informal, almost lighthearted in a work email.
“We miss him up in Marketing, Rebecca.”
Before she had even thought it over, she hit send.
“Oh,” she said quickly to herself.

Justin flinched as an email notification chime rang through his earphones. “Go away, I’m playing Doom,” he muttered.

Rebecca waited patiently for a response, finally calling Justin’s extension.

The powwow of chairs around the pizza Joey had picked up for lunch turned towards Justin’s phone as it rang. JC gestured to the phone, Joey shrugging in confusion.
JC picked up. “Justin Timberlake, IT. How may I help you?”
Rebecca froze when she heard JC’s voice on the other end. “Uh...uh...” She quickly looked around her desk. “My screen’s gone black!” she blurted out as she quickly turned the contrast down on her laptop.
“Oh! That’s quite serious. I’ll be up in a minute,” he replied.
“Thanks, bye!” She hung up, immediately touching up her makeup.

He emerged upstairs within 15 minutes, carrying an old beige CRT computer monitor. Her eyes doubled in shock when she saw him, trying as quickly as she could to go help him. She barely made two steps before she tripped, rolling her ankle. In dismay, she succumbed to her defeat and lay completely on the floor, wishing for a quick and painless death.

Well, fuck me... she thought to herself.

He quickly placed the monitor on the floor, kneeling by her to see if she was OK. She turned over, gazing up at him, fixating her gaze onto his lips.

“Are you OK?” he asked, leaning further over her.
She took a deep breath, smelling his warm cologne. Kiss me, she thought to herself. “I’m OK,” she squeaked out.
“What happened?”
“I think I rolled my right ankle.”
“Do you think you’ve injured it?”
“I mean, it hurts, but I don’t think I’ve sprained it.”

He took her hand and helped her sit down. Before she could protest, he unbuckled her shoe and removed it to check her ankle. She sighed with disappointment as she realised how sexy this would be in any other situation.

He pressed down gently around her ankle joint to check for swelling. “I don’t think there’s much damage, but I would sit without the shoe on for a bit to see if it gets worse.” He looked up at her. “Also, I wouldn’t wear shoes that cut your feet up so much.”
She fake giggled and shrugged her shoulders. “Just having one of those...girly...days...” She trailed off.
“Look, I’m no foot doctor, but I’m guessing these Band-Aids aren't fresh.” He stood up, retrieving the monitor from the middle of the floor. “I get you want to look cute some days, but there are more practical shoes you can do it in.”

The only thing Rebecca took from that was that he thought she looked cute.

He placed the monitor on the desk, gesturing towards her laptop. “Can I get a look at it?”
“Um...yeah.” She pushed aside to make room for him at the desk. “Why haven’t you been upstairs since Monday? I thought you were part of Marketing?”
“I’m officially IT,” he explained as he set up the monitor, “so I’ll be down in the dungeon most of the time, but I’ll surface for some meetings and such.”
“I thought that we were supposed to work together on the site?”
“We will, but I thought that we could do it remotely, through email, and we might get together for a roundup each Friday or something. I’ve got quite a bit to do before I even consider layout or anything, getting the domain up and the firewall, and how the store would function, plus the security concerns with that. There’s a reason we’re not launching officially until September.”
“OK.”

He looked at the keyboard, holding down the F2 key, turning up the brightness on the computer. He turned to her. “Did you do that on purpose? ‘Cause I refuse to think you’re that much of an idiot.”
She didn’t want to look at him. “I thought we were supposed to work together, and I wanted to know why you weren’t posted in Marketing.”
He sighed. “You could’ve just emailed me.”
“I couldn’t find you name in the new staff directory.”
He scrolled upwards on the still open staff directory. “There it is, under ‘Chasez, Joshua.’”
She made an embarrassed squeak. “Oh...I thought it was under ‘Sh’ like ‘Shade.’”
“No, ‘CH’ like ‘Champagne,’ French name.”

They sat in a tense silence.
“Look, you don’t need to impress me. I’m not like that,” he told her. “Plus, if you want to talk to me, just email or something.”
Her heart swelled. This is it, she thought to herself. He knows I like him.
“If you want to be friends, I’m cool with that, but none of this contrived stuff. If you want to hang out, we’ll hang out.”

A warped hockey siren went off in Rebecca’s head. Friends. He just wants to be friends. She was so consumed with rejection, she barely noticed him pack up and say goodbye, nor did she register her automated response.

JC placed the monitor by his side as he took the elevator back down to the fifth floor, letting out a deep sigh. He felt exhausted. He felt exhausted by the move. Riding twelve or so hours on a motorcycle over the course of the weekend had left his thighs still feeling vaguely numb. He felt exhausted by the process of starting at a new company and a whole array of new people. He felt exhausted because he had barely had a free moment to himself since Monday night. He felt exhausted by the very idea that he could break Rebecca’s heart. Even if he did get to know her well enough to like, even love, her, he ran the risk of hurting her. That’s if he even started to like her at all. It could hurt her just as much if he never did like her. He picked up the monitor and tried to go about his day without dwelling to much on the topic.

500, it was time to turn it up to 500. Rebecca spent the night thinking about her options. Though the best one, and the most valid, was to be his friend like he wanted and wait for him to fall in love with her. She resolved that she could give it one more college try. Bryant’s office dress code in hand, she scoured her wardrobe for the sexiest thing she could get away with wearing. She settled on a red, satin cocktail dress. She paired it with black stockings, a pair of knee high boots, a ruby necklace with matching earrings and bracelet, and fire red lipstick. If she couldn’t get him to fall in love with her just yet, she could make him want to fuck her.

She arrived at work early and waited in her car until he arrived, getting out just as he pulled his helmet off his head.
“Hi!” she called over the parking lot, waving.
He looked towards her, sighing. “Rebecca...” He walked over to her. “Look, I’m here to do a job. I’m not here to fuck my co-workers. You don’t need to do this. You’re better than this.” He took his blazer out of his bag and offered it to her. “You’re the CEO’s daughter, not the office slut. What happened to the girl I met on Monday?”
She looked down at her feet. “It’s not you,” she lied. “There’s some meathead on the third floor who just broke up with his girlfriend...I was thinking...” she choked out through tears.
“He’s not worth it. If you have to dress like you’re going to the Playboy Mansion or something, he’s not worth it. I don’t think you’re that kind of girl.”
“But I want...to...be...”
“Then leave it for out of office hours.”
She walked around him. “I need to be upstairs soon.”

She took the stairs, stopping between floors 2 and 3 to cry her makeup off.