“Yo, could you press ten for me?” I walked into the elevator behind the Boston guy, trying not to admire the way his left bowleg led his right as he sauntered into the small, glass car.
“Press it yourself,” he quipped, fidgeting with his coat. Asshole.
I noticed that he was riding to the sixteenth floor “ The Getty Group. They’re this big stock firm in the building. He looks way too young to be a stockbroker. “You work for Getty?” I finally asked.
“Who’s askin’?”
“I just did.”
“Yeah.” I could tell that he was trying to think of the business that was located on my respective floor. “Burgess & Troy, right?”
I nodded, moving closer to the door as I heard the ding that signified our approach to the 10th Floor. “I’m not Burgess or Troy, though.”
“I think I knew that,” he stated, sarcastically. “What are you? A secretary?”
The doors opened and I winked back at him, beginning to dig into my purse for keys. “Actually, I am.” With that, I walked off, leaving him to follow me down the corridor with his gaze. I even switched the hips a little more than usual to give him a show. “Nice meeting you,” I called back, hearing the doors closing.
With a sigh, I opened the double glass doors to Burgess & Troy Law Firm and plopped down at my desk, situated at the front of the huge office. One of my co-workers, whose workstation is directly across from mine, noticed my despair.
“Good morning, Dawn,” she greeted me. She smiled, watching me look for a place to tuck my soaked umbrella amidst the chaos of my desk.
“Hey, Sharry,” I answered, not bothering to look up.
“Everything all right?”
“Yeah, girl. Just a long ass morning.”
“Home life?”
“On-the-way-to-work-asshole life,” I scoffed, shaking my head. “You’re lucky you live in the city. It’s always a bitch trying to get here from Brooklyn.”
“I don’t know why you don’t just move. If I can afford it, I know you can.”
“Girl, if it gets me any closer to assholes like the one I met this morning, I think I’ll pass.”
As I finished my sentence, my boss came thundering through the room in her usual nosy nature. “What asshole?”
“Good morning, Liz.” Sharry and I always seem to greet her in unison.
“Hey gals. Dawn, I need for you to send these faxes,” she added, handing me a stack of papers. “Sharry, I need the callbacks from the Perry case as soon as possible.” With a smile, she hopped on my desk, crossing her long vanilla legs under her red skirt suit. “But nobody move until after you two spill. Who’s the asshole and how cute is he? And don’t tell me he wasn’t cute because you wouldn’t be talking about him now if he wasn’t worth it.”
Sharry laughed, indicating that this was my story to tell. “It’s Dawn’s ass today.”
“Just some ignorant fool that I met at Starbucks today.”
“Oh, really?”
“Yeah, turns out he works in this building.”
“Interesting.” Liz squinted her round gray eyes, seemingly trying to think of anyone that I could be referring to. “What’s his name?”
“Oh, shit, I don’t even know.”
“Figures. You never come in with the good details, Dawn!”
“Well sorry if the dude from the 16th floor isn’t high on my priority list.”
Both Liz and Sharry glanced at one another, acting like they had a secret that I was being left out of. “16th floor?” Sharry asked.
“Yeah,” I confirmed. “He said he works for The Getty Group. He looks a little young to be there, though.”
Liz chuckled knowingly. “By any chance does he have really short, curly brown hair? Clean-shaven, dressed impeccably? Thick Boston accent?”
“That would be the asshole,” I smirked. “You know him?”
She rolled her eyes to the ceiling exaggeratedly, laughing, and climbed off of my desk. “All too well, Dawn.”
“What’s so funny?” I smiled. “Is he gay?”
“Not at all, Dawn. Not at all.” She walked off, chuckling to herself, and into her office. “Get back to work!” she yelled playfully, just before her door closed.
“She slept with him,” Sharry whispered to me, across the space between us.
I dropped my mouth in slight shock. “Liz? Are you serious?” She nodded in confirmation. “He can’t be older than twenty-five!” I hissed. “And she’s”“
“Forty-five,” Sharry finished. “I know, girl. Apparently, he’s gotten every woman in the building wrapped around his little finger.”
“Fuck that. He’s got ‘em wrapped around his dick!”
“You said it.”
We shared another laugh as I sat with my mouth dropped for a few seconds longer before attempting another question. “So wait, what’s this kid’s name?”
Out of nowhere, Liz reappeared, answering my question. “Justin. Justin Timberlake. Now get back to work, for the last time.”
The hours between the big revelation of the day and my lunch break went by incredibly slowly, and I couldn’t quite focus on anything that was happening from the intrigue of this Timberland character. Or is it Timberlake? Whatever “ the Justin guy. There was something about him that I just couldn’t put my finger on, but hearing about him made me want to know more. As much as I wanted to, I couldn’t just label him as ‘that son of a bitch from Starbucks’ anymore. Something tells me that he’s that, and maybe a little more.
Seeing Sharry returning from lunch, I replaced my leather boots onto my size sevens, pulled on my jacket, grabbed my umbrella and headed for the 16th floor.
I’d only been up there once before, and it was very brief. I didn’t like it at all. The atmosphere was too stuffy for me. It was just a bunch of uppity white men in business suits and toting briefcases. Why I’m here now, I don’t know, but maybe this Justin guy will make it worth my while.
Just as I pressed the door buzzer to obtain access into their office suite, my favorite Bostonian’s over-six-foot frame came bustling through the door with, who’d I assume to be, a co-worker of the same stature and an apparent Italian descent.
Justin looked at me briefly before rolling his eyes. “You just don’t quit, do you?”
“Aren’t you going to introduce me?” his friend interjected.
“What for?” he shot back, heading for the elevator. “Let’s go, Joe.”
I extended my hand to the friend, admiring his hazel eyes. “Justin’s not in a good mood today,” I said, amused by Justin’s shock of me knowing his name. “You can call me DJ.”
“Joseph Fatone,” he replied, shaking my hand lightly. “Justin’s never in a good mood, is he?”
“Apparently not. But I came up here to see if I could fix that, and perhaps steal your buddy away for lunch.” I eyed Justin as Joseph and I advanced for the spot where he stood.
“I already have plans with Joey,” he retorted.
“I could just as easily have some Chinese delivered,” Joseph jumped in.
“No, no, if Justin doesn’t want to eat with me, I’d never even think of forcing him into anything.”
“Good.”
Joseph “ err, Joey “ looked back and forth between us and reopened the door to their office. “Justin, I think I’m gonna have to pass, buddy. I’m not really down for the rain.”
“Just fucking great,” Justin said loudly. We watched Joey disappear back into the suite and stepped onto the elevator, riding to the first floor in silence.
“Well, I guess you’re on your own.”
“Fuck you.” He shrugged his khaki-colored raincoat over his black suit and began to unwrap his little red umbrella.
As the doors to the outside world reopened, I glanced at the man beside me, taking notice of just how delicate his rosy cheeks and blue eyes made him appear. It was such a contrast to his biting personality. “This is your last chance.”
“DJ, or whatever your name is, I wouldn’t go out with you if you paid me.”
“Damn, it’s just lunch, yo. I’m not askin’ you to marry me.”
“Well my answer is still ‘no.’”
Yeah, I guess there’s no helping this motherfucker. “Suit yourself.” Into the rain, I went, unaware and uncaring of what Justin Timberlake’s plans were.
Seconds later, I heard his annoying-ass voice behind me. “Hey!”
The raindrops blurring the distance between us, I didn’t bother to turn all the way around. “What?”
“Wait up!”
I waited for him to catch up to my spot on the middle of the sidewalk before commenting, “I’m not paying you.”
He scoffed and almost smiled before catching himself. “Then don’t expect good company.”
“I’d never ask of such a thing from you. I wouldn’t want you to strain yourself or anything.”
“Where are we going anyway?”
“Don’t tell me you’re tired of walking already.”
“No. All the good restaurants are in the fuckin’ opposite direction.”
I cut my eyes at him, wondering if he could really be that dense. “I’m not really down with the bougie-man routine. I’m just going to get me an old-fashioned sandwich from the deli around the corner.”
“Your attitude is really uncalled for.”
“My attitude!” It’s official. People from Boston are insane. “Shut up and get in the damn store,” I replied, pushing him into the small confines of one of the many delis off of Wall Street.
“Don’t fuckin’ touch me.” Sneering, he pulled down his umbrella, shaking the excess water onto innocent patrons.
“Yo, you really need to chill with that.”
“It’s just water.”
Sighing and exasperated, I ignored him and his obstinacy, and we ordered our respective sandwiches, planning to take them to the neighboring pizzeria to eat there.
They be tryin’ to bring you flowers
You prefer your roses blue
Others were tryin to get in your trousers
I was just tryin’ to get into you
I was just tryin’ to get with you, honest
“Can I ask you another question?” The two of us were sat comfortably in Giuseppe’s Pizzeria, chomping on turkey subs and attempting conversation.
He looked at me with boredom, dropping his sandwich to the wrapping underneath it. “What now?”
“Well if you don’t want me to ask it, just say the word.” Something tells me that this son of a bitch is actually enjoying my company. He wouldn’t be sitting here otherwise, would he?
“Just ask the fuckin’ question.”
“Well, okay, you’re twenty-four, right?”
“Right.”
“How in the hell did you come to work for Getty?”
He rolled his eyes slightly, but then gave me a hint of a chuckle. “My father actually got me the initial job. I’ve interned with them every summer since I was a freshman, so as soon as I graduated from Boston, I already had a job.”
“What did you major in?”
“I meant since I was a freshman in high school.”
Holy shit! He gives a new meaning to networking. “You’re kidding.”
“Do I look like I’m kidding?”
“Okay, okay “ back to my question. What was your major?”
“My father made sure that I focused on business, just like him.”
“Is that not what you wanted to do?”
“Of course it was. I’ve never wanted anything more than to be like my dad. It’s been my life goal ever ““ He suddenly stopped talking and picked at the shredded lettuce in his sandwich.
I looked at him, baffled. “Ever…?”
“Why are we talking about this? We just came out to eat. Not talk.”
When you find the time, how can I get to know ya?
“What’s wrong with being curious?”
“Curiosity killed the cat.”
Damn, what was that that brought it back? “Justin, I’m not asking for your life story. I just want you to finish your sentence.”
“Just forget it, all right?”
Your name, number, game, tell me anything
I gotta get to know ya
“Okay. I’ll let you off the hook for now. But don’t think you’re gonna push me away with that fake little bitch routine you have going.”
“What makes you think it’s fake?”
“Because if you were really as much of a bitch as you want to relay, you wouldn’t be sitting here with me because you wouldn’t have given me a second glance after I left the coffee shop this morning.”
He took a long gulp of his fruit punch, his silvery blue eyes penetrating mine in the process, and nodded. “Why do you care?”
I know that you’ve never seen me
“Why ask ‘Why?’ Just finish what you started.”
“You’re a fuckin’ bitch. You know that?”
I know that I’m not your style
“You are too, but you don’t see me complaining, do you?”
He gives me a glimpse of an amazingly beautiful set of white teeth when he smiles slightly. “Funny.”
“Yeah, I knew you had a sense of humor somewhere in there.” Beaming, I added, “And a gorgeous smile, too.”
His grin immediately disappeared, but the twinkle in his eyes didn’t waver whatsoever. “Well, all I was gonna say is that I’ve admired my father ever since my mother left him when I was a kid.”
Well shit, I damn sure wasn’t expecting that. I looked down sorrowfully, regretting that I was so adamant. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. Me and my dad had a better life than that bitch ever could’ve given us.”
I know that you don’t need me
My heart told me to take hold of his hand perched on top of the table, but my head told me to follow his direction and not touch him. After all, I don’t know him like that. Instead, I merely tried to comfort him with my gaze.
“Stop lookin’ at me like that,” he chided. “I’m not about to cry.”
But you do
“Justin, the harder you push me away, the more I’m gonna pull you back.”
“Why?”
You’ve got my dreams
“I don’t really know. Something about the way you light up a room with your terrible attitude.” I finished off the last bit of my sandwich, which had dwindled to bread, mayonnaise and lettuce, and licked my lips. “I’m gonna bring you out of that hard little shell if it kills me.”
I’ll be here, longing to know ya
Lyrics: “Gotta Get To Know Ya” “ Maxwell (Maxwell Now)
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