Emerging

Chapter 18: Vincent

      Why did he have to kiss me? I thought after I slammed the door shut while I practically blushed crimson. I already had a small crush on him, all he did was place his lips on mine and now I full-blown liked him. This was so unprofessional and confusing. This brought me back to high school when straight boys would kiss me to experiment.

      It was discouraging to think Jesse was just curious about his sexuality, even if he was he shouldn't have kissed ME, we work together. I brusquely walked to get the discarded outfit from under the bed to pick it up and stash in a random drawer. I was thankful to Jesse for not judging me for my affinity for feminine wear or my sexuality, and it didn't hurt that he was good-looking, and that's exactly why I admired him but I admired him from a distance I knew he was straight and that dating coworkers was messy.

       Back home, In Na from accounting dated Il Soo from graphics and when they broke up I heard that they never talked at work and that he cheated on her (which probably wasn't true). That stereotype where all gays love gossip was true, at least for me anyway. I didn't want to have to distance myself from Jesse if he happened to be actually interested in me but us being business partners was an insurmountable obstacle. Not even to mention how much of a distraction that could be, my mother's homophobia, and how this could affect the company.

     I absentmindedly licked my lips thinking of what was to come but as soon as I felt the wet surface of my tongue leave my lips I regretted it. I had wiped away the feeling of Jesse's lips on mine.  Blushing and groaning at the silly thought I went to go take a shower.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

I was ready for work and I was ready to confront Jesse and let him know the severity of the situation. I walked to my office with dignity but I saw Deng Lun arguing with a woman outside my door. I stopped a few feet away to observe the situation, the woman was black with long black and pink braids going down her back. I loved her hair, but her attire was hardly appropriate for a work setting, so I knew she didn't work here, the skinny jeans hugged her round rear like a vice and her thin black crop top with "C'est La Vie" etched on it barely held her breasts in place.

"Ma'am if you want to see Mr. Lan you're going to need to make an appointment, his schedule is full for today." Deng Lun was such a good assistant it didn't help that he looked so cute trying to help the obviously disturbed woman. "I have a message for your boss that is critical for him to hear." Before the woman could respond I stepped in, "She can come in, I don't have anything for at least another hour from now." Saying as I walked past them leading her into my office wondering what she needed to say.

I sat at my desk, preparing for a strenuous workday, "So you're that faggot Jesse works with?" She interrupts my process of organizing my desk with her snide remark. I already didn't like her, "Who're you?" I question with a tense voice.

What she responds with practically crushes me, "His girlfriend." I was unsure of the rude women's statement but I held a certain level of composure as she continued. "Just so you know, it all starts with him being all understanding and kind, but soon he gets bored and runs right back to me." I catch that much before I block out her words and just replace them with the sound of her voice. As she talked I noticed the accent that most of the people native to the DMV had and it reminded me of Jesse.

I knew he wasn't genuinely interested in me, but I trusted him enough not to clown with my feelings. Before I know it she's strutting out of my office. I feel the tears begin to rise, I knew we would never be but it didn't make it hurt any less hearing it from that woman. At that moment I decided I cry too much and that I needed to man up, after wiping my face with the back of my hand I started to work. Yet I could barely see through the stream of tears leaving my eyes.

    A few minutes pass with my tear impaired vision until Jesse appears in my doorway. Sighing while closing the door behind him and sitting down in the chair in front of my desk he asks what's wrong.  He should know but I indulge him, telling him what his girlfriend said to me and all I had wanted to say to him even before she did what she did.

    We sit in silence for a few seconds, my tears have finally dried and I glance at the watch on my wrist and I notice the investors meeting is in ten minutes. "Fuck! You have to go to the meeting it starts in ten." I exclaim grabbing my laptop with the presentation on it and shoving into his arms. "I hate to tell you this, but since you did the whole thing I have no idea what to say you're going to have to do the presentation." He utters with a strange look on his face.

Taking a deep breath and composing myself I stand walk to the front of my mahogany desk. "Can you tell I've been crying?" I can't show weakness, the key to getting rich privileged bastards to give you money is to convince them they can make even more. But showing any sign of weakness makes one of them take an inch and the rest miles.

   "You look tough as nails." He tried for a real smile. Faking our grins we walk together to conference room B.

~~~~~~~~~

   As far as I could tell the meeting was going well, the participants looked interested as I spoke figures and opportunities. And Jesse took notes for future reference.  But my nerves would spike any time I glanced at the monster Jesse invited. Paul Havlin, the newly instated CEO of Havlin Inc. who looked at me with a smug hunger that sent all too familiar chills down my spine. To put it simply, he was one of my bullies in high school.

   At first he didn't do any worse than any other bully, the occasional ass kicking and the constant derogatory catcalling. He didn't become someone to particularly fear until grade twelve, I still have nightmares about the supposed senior prank he played on me.

     The meeting went well, but that was to be expected. And as it ended I faced the man who caused an unnecessary bout of gynophobia for two fucking years. As the other men were clearing out of the room one by one Paul closed the distance between us to about a foot. I was glued to where I stood he reminded me so much of the incident, it practically paralyzed me.

"Salut,garce, vous ai-je manqué?" (Hi, bitch, did you miss me?) he said with a taunting smile. He spoke in French so the other straggling businessmen in the room wouldn't understand.

  I knew as soon as he said it, I needed help.