“Fine. You can go first.”
“Nice. So what’s your full name?”
“Destiny Cissy Jones.”
Peter wrinkled up his nose and giggled, “Cissy? Like S-i-s-s-y?”
“No, with a C.”
“That’s a funny name.”
I rolled my eyes. I thought that my name being made fun of was that stopped in grade school but Peter was only 25. Which was basically like a teenager who could drink.
“It’s hilarious,” I replied, “My turn, what is your legal name? Peter Bens is a stage name right?”
“It is. My legal name is Jonathan Aramakarakapii.”
I paused for a moment and tried to comprehend all of the syllables that had rolled off of Peter’s tongue so effortlessly. Jonathan what?
“Wow, that last name is quiet the mouthful.”
“Yeah so you can understand why I chose such a simple stage name.”
“Yes, I can. Could you run your last name by me one more time?”
“Aramakara—“
“A little slower please?”
“A-ra-ma-ka-ra-ka-pii.”
I tried to parrot the name back out at him, but the name felt clumsy and foreign on my tongue. And by the look on his face, it didn’t sound any better.
“I butchered it didn’t I?”
“Pretty bad. But it’s not big deal, not a lot of people can’t do it right.”
“Where’s your last name from, anyways?”
“Hey, hey, hey, it’s my turn for questions!”
“All right. Ask away.”
“How long have you worked here?”
“About seven years, give or take a couple of months. Is it my turn now?”
“Sure.”
“Where’s your last name from?”
“It’s Maori, you know, indigenous people of New Zealand.”
“That’s cool. It’s your turn now.”
“Ahhh, all right. Favorite food?”
“Chips and salsa probably. My question’s the same.”
“My favorite food is celery.”
Ew what?
“Celery? Seriously?” I asked, making a face as I remembered the gross, bitter, watery flavor of the vegetable.
“What’s wrong with celery? It’s good!”
“It tastes like bitter paper.”
“That’s rude.”
“The fact that celery exists is rude.”
Peter puts his hands up in front of him in a placating gesture, “Fine, we’ll agree to disagree. Who’s your favorite singer? Is it me?”
“Tough luck little man, my favorite singer is actually Macy Gray.”
Peter’s smiling face suddenly dimmed, as if someone had pulled the curtain on his happiness. After a stretch of silence, he spoke again.
“My mom loved Macy Gray.”
“Oh shit, sorry I shouldn’t have—“
“No I’m just being sensitive. How would know that about my mom?”
YOU ARE READING
Private Relations
ChickLitPR agent Destiny Jones was perfectly fine with going into the office, dealing with scandals and coming home to the internet gossip communities at night. When soulful crooner, Peter Bens is caught in the scandal of the year, Destiny is put on the cas...
Chapter 18
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