A Shrouded Love

Your grace and beauty has befallen me,
as I embrace a love unspoken.
I cannot bear to think how you feel of me,
for I fear my heart will be broken.

You deserve all that you desire,
whatever it may be.
My knees they start to weaken,
as my love for you flows free.

I sneak peeks at him everyday but he never notices me. The exuberant emotions I bare towards him are far more than I can handle and are very unprofessional. I dream about this man every night in hopes that one day he'll acknowledge my presence or at least get my name right, but to no avail.

Everyday it's the same with him. He'll waltz in late for what ever board meeting he has to attend. He'd pause at my desk for a few seconds to ask if there are any messages or calls for him which most times I reply no, because his regular clients know better than to call him at the office when he's hardly ever there. That's why he has his cell attached to his hip like it's part of his gorgeous body. Then, he'll mutter a morning and call me the first name that comes to mind. I've never corrected him on that slip up in fear of getting fired for back talking or something. Last week it was Nora, Monday it was Dora, Tuesday it was Marva and Today it was Laura. But I'm not complaining. I mean why should I? I'm just going to waste away in my little cubicle until one day he gets fed up of me and hires someone more ‘tasteful' to his liking or pleasure.

I'm pathetic right? Yeah I know, but it's not intentional. I mean I don't blame him for never paying me any mind. I'm not much to look at. At 5'9 I'm just another African American ‘big girl'. I'd like to think my height hides my true weight, but I still have some extra meat on my bones as apposed to the average woman that's clearly visible. I have one of those big round butts and full d cup breasts. My thighs, although they are firm, are still big...even huge in my eyes. Guys say I'm curvaceous or thick. But I say I'm hideous and fat. I blame my family genes, since eating is not the issue. I eat healthy and I go to the gym four times a week, but the weight doesn't melt off the way I'd like it to. I'm Copper brown in complexion, so I'm not really dark, just a smooth brown. I have kinky, curly jet black hair that falls to my shoulders, but I always gel it and tie it up into a bun. I have to stay professional of course. But as you can tell, even by my efforts of attempting to describe a somewhat appealing woman, I've fallen short. I'm just not a ‘looker' and he knows it.

It wasn't always like this. When I got this job for receptionist/secretary, I was ecstatic because I knew I'd be meeting many famous and influential people. But after a while, the job became dull, boring and very monotone. I mean, my life isn't exactly fantastic so I shouldn't be complaining. I have one close relative and sibling which is my older brother Malcolm. Our parents died when we were just children in a car accident. I was too young to really feel and understand the unbearable grief and despair, but I do have many memories of them. I don't have any other family really. I have no grandparents because they were dead even before I was born.

My dad was an only child and my mom only had one sister, Aunt Patrice, but I haven't seen or heard from her in years. She lives somewhere in the Caribbean so all I ever receive are the occasional post cards on how she's doing with her husband and baby son Jordan. After the death of her sister (my mother), she took care of Malcolm and I until he was old enough to take care of me, then she fell in love with a white man and eloped, moving to the Caribbean with him where he owned a Yacht company. That's all there really is to this story.

The point is, my life consisted of basically school, and working two extra jobs to help my bother pay off the bills and rent for the small apartment we were sharing here in Florida. Not having much of a choice, he decided to enroll in the police academy to become an officer of the law. I've always bugged him about that though. But, it's good to have him there to protect me, even though he usually shouts all these rules and laws I'm breaking on a regular basis. It's really annoying let me tell you, but I love him so I tolerate it.

I majored in English literature and psychology. Messed up majors right? What could I possibly do with them you ask? Well, I dreamt of being a psychologist my whole life, because the human mind is the most fascinating thing to me, but after I graduated, finding jobs were almost impossible. Plus, I still had some more schooling to take if I wanted to be a psychologist. So instead, I took up receptionist and secretary jobs until I landed that very title here at Tennman records. It's only a branch of the main office in California, but I get the pleasure of seeing the owner slash CEO almost every day since he moved down here to Florida for a while to work with some new up and coming artist.

I guess when the boredom of this routine job engulfed me, completely taking over my senses, that's when my mind began to drift. I'd daydream a lot about living a different life...A glamorous, hectic, flexible life, where I am my own boss. Speaking of bosses, that's how my current ‘infatuation' with my boss started. I'm sure you've figured it out already, that none other than Justin Randall Timberlake is regrettably my employer and nothing more. He was the perfect target to my ideal fantasies. Because, that's all they were...fictional, unrealistic fairy tales.

But, I'm not mad, because it keeps me preoccupied most of the day and helps the time fly by quicker. Besides, I think the women in my family have a thing for white men. My aunt's married to one, and my dad was half white. Whatever it is, Justin is my fetish and secret guilty pleasure. That's all he's ever going to be and I can live with that. It's better to have an imaginary boyfriend than none at all in my case...gosh I'm so sad and pathetic it's amazing. But I love getting lost in my sinful thoughts of him and all the things I'd like him to do to me.

I think I dream about him too much, because it feels like I can almost hear his smooth sexy voice filter through my state of consciousness.

Wait scratch that, because I'm most definitely awake, sitting at my desk and I can still hear him calling out to me. But his tone is not as sultry as I'd like it to be. It's rough, and harsh and irritable....

"Laura! Can you hear me? Are you even listening? What is wrong with you?"

Snapping out of my daze and crashing back to reality, I slowly lift my head to see the object of my desire steaming at the ears and practically foaming at the mouth as he keeps his intense gaze on me. Gulping down hard, I lick my partially dry lips, trying to clear my thoughts of how good and edible he must look naked under that black Armani suit he's wearing.

"Huh?" Is all I manage to choke out and he rolls his eyes at me, letting out a displeased groan.

"Why are you so incoherent? I've been trying to get your attention for a while now." He snaps, elbows propped up on my desk, still enraged by my lack of focus and compliance. I had to smirk at the getting my attention part. I guess the tables were turned for a split second and he felt my frustration from him always ignoring me even though it's under different circumstances.

"I'm sorry Mr. Timberlake." I lament, bowing my head in shame.

"Now is not the time to be lazing around Laura. There is work to be done." His temper is slowly dissipating from his tensed masculine physic as he arches his brows at me.

"My apologies sir, I must have spaced or zoned out for a brief moment." I apologize yet again. I really need this job, and I don't want to get fired because I'm obsessing over him. He doesn't need to know any of that.

Still studying me with his eyes, he shrugs lightly, pushing his cell into his pocket. "Maybe you don't have enough work to do around here which is why you can find free time to day dream. What were you even thinking about that has you so disoriented anyway?"

You. Everything about you. You and I...doing unspeakable things to each other... "It's nothing sir." I reply, noting the curiosity that's twinkling in his eyes. He's never stayed and talked to me this long before. I guess what ever he needs to discuss with me is important. I wish he'd just get on with it.

"Fine. Well, the new artist I'm working with is coming in today. Her name is Yolanda and I want you to be respectful and courteous to her. When she gets here give her the studio schedule I asked you to prepare yesterday and explain it briefly to her, then usher her into my office and I'll deal with the rest." He demands and I nod in agreement. It irks me that he remembers everyone's name except mine. I may be ‘invisible' in his eyes but I'm still human.

"Ok sir I'll make sure to do that." I affirm.

"Good. That would be all." He moves to leave but stops abruptly contemplating on something else to say. "Oh and Laura? Get some rest. You look flushed." He adds, causing me to instantly redden. This is so embarrassing. I can't believe I just blushed like that. I don't think he noticed, since he's already walking away from my desk.

I'm not sure what's come over me at this very moment, but I've mustered up an unknown courage I never knew existed and called out to my boss's retreating form.

"Mr. Timberlake?!" I call out and he turns around to glare at me interestingly. Oh no, maybe I shouldn't have done that but I'm on a roll, and before I can stop myself I feel my next statement slide off my tongue and out my lips. "It's Jahzara." I state, noticing his frown of confusion.

"Excuse me?"

"My name. It's Jahzara...not Laura." I enforce, shutting my eyes tightly, expecting him to take off my head for having the audacity to correct his mistake.

I was expecting just about anything from him, but not a chuckle. Hold up...he's chuckling. Is he laughing at me? Does he think I'm being funny? I mean I know my parents went a little over board with the African name, but it's no laughing matter. Opening my eyes, my hazels stare directly into his perfect blues and I instantly hold my breath, wanting to quiver.

When I look into your eyes,
my heart it starts to melt.
You cannot even begin to imagine,
just how good it felt.

He seems to be examining me again. Well, I'm sure as hell getting noticed today...even ‘sized' up in the process. Now, I'm getting a little self conscious, but I try not to show it.

"Ok then, Jahzara it is." He replies with a bright smile, then adds: "I was wondering when you were going to correct me. Until then, I just decided to keep guessing." He jokes, and I actually smile at that.

Wow, well, that's a good thing I hope. Although, he could have just asked. "Oh, well ok" I beam and he nods in reply.

Now serious again, he inhales deeply then begins to move backwards as he speaks rapidly. "Remember what I asked you to do for me when Yolanda arrives. It's simple enough. I don't want to keep you any longer so you can get back to your work. Bye Laura..." Pausing mid-step he gives me an apologetic stare. "I mean..." He trails off momentarily scratching under his chin and I can almost bet he's forgotten my name already. "Jahzara...that's a rather...unique name" He voices, in a low whisper, but I catch it and smile in the process. "Anyway see you later...Zara." He grins at me knowing he just used a nickname instead of my full name, before he turns and disappears down the hallway to the elevators...

I think it's safe to say that I've melted and I'm now a puddle of mush on the floor. The man is just so irresistible and maybe, just maybe, I'm not as invisible or off Justin's radar as I thought I was. Whatever it is, I hope he comes by more often to personally instruct me on his various demands and orders as opposed to making them over the office's direct line. Now, if only a few of them could be intimate or sexual, I'd have it made on cloud nine, granting me a preview into heaven for sure.

These feelings I have for you right now,
will always remain true.
No matter what I try to do,
my soul cries out for you.

******
Poem: A Shrouded Love
By: Philip Piccini