Mr. Jeff picked me up the next morning. We grabbed some donuts for breakfast, eating them quickly in the car (me feeling immature for getting chocolate milk) and then drove to the building. There was a red rose sitting on the desk with Carol. Mr. Jeff was walking ahead of me and I grabbed it quickly, smiling at Carol and following behind him. Mr. Jeff didn't notice and I held it behind my back, both hands so it looked casual. We went up to the office and he sat down in his chair as I placed the rose into his vase. He stared at it, raising a brow. "When did you get that?" he asked.
"Earlier," I said.
"Where from?"
"Magic," I told him.
He nodded and asked what was in store for that day. He had a meeting a few blocks over and this was one I could go to. He told me to take notes and I did so. After, he had to go back to the building and we went to a meeting on the 21st floor where they showed him how sales and productivity were doing. Then came lunch and I ordered a small meal again because he kept making me try some of the food he was offering, but it was some Asian food and I'm not a fan of the Asian food. After lunch he had a meeting that I realized he always had, everyday at the same time at one-thirty. So, in that time, I collapsed onto the couch. I didn't have any sleeping pills and so I didn't get much sleep in the night. I woke up at about three but not because anyone was waking me up. I simply woke up. Mr. Jeff was at his desk, typing on his computer.
"Nice sleep?" he asked.
"Uh, yeah, sorry," I said.
"Don't be. If I needed you I would've woken you. You looked tired, too. No sleeping pills?"
"No. I guess I should go out and buy some."
"Here." He opened his desk drawer and tossed me a bottle of sleeping pills. "Take them home with you."
"Thanks." I set them on my desk and sat down, looking in the planner. "You're free up until six, with your dad."
He nodded. He had been looking at the computer, but once I mentioned the appointment with his father at six he leaned back, glanced at his computer, and then looked out the window. Great. A bad mood. I scratched the back of my head and walked over to him. I sat on the edge of his desk and grabbed his hand, massaging it. "If you don't mind me asking-"
"I do mind," he interrupted, looking at me intensely. It was the first time I had seen him not happy with me. He pulled his hand away and stood up. "Why don't you call it a day? Go home. Go out. Do something. You don't have to be there when I see my father."
I nodded, my face, neck, and chest getting blotchy red, something that happened when I was nervous and felt like crying. I went to my desk, grabbed my stuff, and walked out of the office. Great. He'll probably call later, let me know that I do indeed suck, and then fire me. Obviously I did something wrong. Probably because I really suck at my job. I was glad that Michael, Vince, and Emilio weren't there, because a tear did escape my eye. Like I said, I cried at everything. I heard the door behind me and the elevator couldn't go fast enough.
"Em," Mr. Jeff said, sounding sorry. I looked down, forcing myself to hold back my tears and keep my composure together. He stood next to me as I looked away from him. Damn elevator. And then he did the cutest thing in the world that instantly made my tears vanish. "Emmy," he said, and oh me oh my I loved the nickname instantly. If anyone else called me that I'd probably cringe, but it was so darn cute from him.
I glanced over at him, feeling so stupid.
"Come on," he said and pulled me back to the office. He pulled me to the couch and sat me down, grabbing my hand and massaging it. "I didn't mean to snap at you," he told me. "But I don't enjoy talking about my family. Though since you're my assistant, you're bound to know about them eventually."
"You don't have to," I mumbled.
"I'm afraid I do. Now, my family has been humble in their lives. We were poor. We always had to work hard. But-" He sighed. "-Once I started to build this company and make money, I gave them money. They took advantage of that. My siblings. My parents. It's just my family and I don't get along. My father is distant and mean, abusive. My mother ignored these things and would be overbearing but not in the right ways. My older sister was mean and always asks for money. My older brother is mean and jealous. My younger sister refuses to talk to me. Then my younger brother ignores me."
"Why?" I asked.
He sighed. "Where to begin?"
"I said you don't have to."
"No, no. How are we supposed to be comfortable with each other if we don't know anything about one another?"
I shrugged, letting him continue.
He leaned back against the armrest, looking at me. He stopped massaging my hands but was holding it still with his index finger and thumb. "You know of...my sexuality right?"
"Uh...no," I said, laughing nervously. Oh my god would he tell me it? "People say you're bisexual."
He nodded, understanding that. He leaned back forward and continued to massage my hand. "Well you can say I'm not exactly straight. I was eleven when my father caught me and the neighbor boy together. We just kissed, curious. My father didn't like that when he caught us. The other boy ran home and Dad let me know with his trusty belt why I shouldn't do that anymore. My mother ignored that but would force me to go out with women and I did. I didn't mind going out with them, but that didn't mean I didn't want to go out with boys either. Have you ever heard Pink Floyd's song Mother?"
A smile crossed my lips. "Yes," I said. "Oh me oh my I love Pink Floyd." I put a hand to my face, gushing at how much I adored that band.
He smirked, nodding. "My mother is kind of like that. She won't let you fly, but she might let you sing. She cared, but only about some things. My oldest brother Claude was definitely the favorite. He was athletic and big and burly. He liked sports and would pick on the fairies. He failed so many classes and yet my parents were so proud of him. I aced all of my classes but never did they say they were proud of me. Claude was still jealous. He asked why I was smart and attractive one time. He called me a fag and said that the he should look like me because he was straight. He hated that I never cared how I looked, and yet girls liked me more. He wanted to tell everyone I was a fag but he knew my parents would be upset. He always wanted to be like me and yet he had what I wanted. My parents' admiration. That's why he didn't like me, and he disliked me even more once I became successful. As for my sister Axelle, she just didn't like anything. She hated our family. She so badly wanted to be rich and glamorous. She was jealous as well because I became friends with these rich people and they never liked her. Michael's family was the richest in town. She always wanted to date him, but of course he's gay and she hated Emilio since they were best friends. Emilio was just a poor Cuban and people could be quite racist They never got why the two hung out."
"That's kind of cute," I said.
He smirked. "Yeah. They were very cute together back then. But anyway...My younger brother Clovis just ignored me, like I said. I honestly don't know what he thinks of me. He never says anything to me. He's pretty successful, a director. And as for Delphine, she dated a pastor's son and became extremely religious so she never liked that I would go off with boys. She called me a sinner. But of course, she got knocked up and then aborted her baby, but that doesn't matter. I'm pro-choice but she's a hypocrite. I mean, my family is just so terribly messed up. They're the type of people who just cause messes and expect everyone else to clean them up." His face grew older in seconds. He was only thirty but looked so stressed it was clear on his face.
"Why did your dad call?" I asked.
"My family doesn't like me, but we still get together a lot. They all live in my townhouse and my dad will call us all and make us get together. Usually everyone asks for money or they ignore me or tell me how messed up I am. Sometimes I bring Michael or Emilio or both when I want to make them mad, or otherwise another male friend as a date."
"Tell me about Vince and Donald - if you don't mind," I said.
"Right. Well, Vince and Donald lived next door to us. The neighbor boy my father caught me with lived on the other side of them and they saw us go off into his shed and knew what happened. The boy ended up getting sent away actually. I don't know what happened to him exactly. Anyway, Vince and Donald were very nice and let me know my sexuality is not wrong. They were like my replacement parents. I'd always go over to their house secretly, and once I befriended Michael and Emilio they'd come over as well. We'd all go there and just be ourselves. It was a safe haven. My father hated them. He'd always talk about how he wanted to kick them out of the neighborhood. I'd always go over there before my dad came home. Even though I paid for his retirement he was still mad." He was looking away, at the ground. He stopped massaging my hand, his hands in his lap.
"Well...if it means anything, I like you."
He glanced up at me, and then he laughed, covering his mouth as he kept laughing. "Tell me about your family," he said, chuckling.
"My family? They're the exact opposite of yours. My mother and father met in community college, got married, had me and then they worked for the same place and loved me a whole bunch, even though I'm gay. My grandparents lived down the road and everyone in my family lived close. We were a very close family and we just love each other. My dad was an only child and his parents were only children, and so my grandparents on my dad's side are close with my mom's side of the family. My grandmothers were actually friends in high school and dreamed of their kids being together and it happened."
He nodded. "They sound nice."
"They are. We're really close, and the nice thing is that no one has ever passed away in my family. I never met any of my great grandparents and the only people who've passes are people I've never met. There's just my grandparents on my dad's side, then on my mom's side there's two aunts and two uncles, a great aunt and a great uncle and then my cousins. I have a total of...five cousins. It's kind of a small family, but that's probably why we're close."
"Hopefully I can meet them one day."
"They'd love to see this place," I said.
He smirked. "Maybe we can set up a tour."
"I hope so." I sighed, thinking about my family. I loved them to death. They were amazing. "You know, it's kind of scary thinking about how none of them have passed. It makes me realize that eventually they will. It's really scary. Since I couldn't drive in high school then a lot of my family members would drive me around. When I go home they still drive me around. It's scary to think about how as I get older it means others get older." I shook my head, tearing up already. "Damn it," I mumbled, turning my head. "I'm sorry," I said. "I cry about everything. I can't help it."
"It's fine, Em," he said, reaching to move my arm but I turned my back to him, leaning over the side of the couch.
"No, no. You don't want to see this," I said.
He laughed and stood up, putting his hands on my shoulder. "Come on. It's fine to cry, Emmy. You don't mind if I call you that do you?"
"No," I said, leaning on my arms, smiling. In fact, I freaking love that name and I want you to say it more. I want to say your name, too. Hell, I want to moan it. Ugh. There's something wrong with me.
"Okay. You can sit here and I'm going to make a phone call."
"Fine."
He walked to his desk and lowered the curtain. He stayed on the phone for about twenty minutes and I could hear slight yelling occasionally. He finished the call and raised the curtain. He looked very peeved and walked over to me, clapping his hands. "How about we teach you how to give a back massage, huh?" he asked, annoyance in his voice.
"Alright," I said. Holy fuck he was being serious. Holy fuck. I couldn't turn him down. Well, I could but fuck. I actually wanted to. I sat up and jumped out of my skin when he grabbed my arms and started to unbutton my shirt. I leaped away from him and asked, "What are you doing?"
"I'm going to show you how to give a massage, Em," he said. "I can't give one through a shirt."
"But...you can't see me shirtless?"
"Why? During the summer Vince and Emilio walk around shirtless all the time."
"No! Ugh, I hate my body."
"Why? Because you look like a girl?"
My jaw dropped. "No," I protested.
He raised a brow at me. "I was with you at the tailor's. I saw you shirtless Em."
I sighed. "Fine, but don't make fun of my girlish body."
"I won't. There's plenty more to make fun of."
"What?"
"Nothing."
I unbuttoned my shirt, my back to him and he had me lie down on the table that was behind the chairs, in the middle of the room. He grabbed a pillow and I rested my head against it. He went to his desk and retrieved a bottle of oil. He plastered some on me and slid his hands against my back. "First, you want to stimulate the cells and nerves, just by sliding your hands. After a while just start to gently push harder, pulling the skin and muscles. Then, you want to grab more and pull. Push back and then it's up to on what you want."
God, I want so much from you. Oh me..."I don't know. I've never had a massage. Do what you want."
"Alright." He dug his hands in deeper and it felt so nice. Damn. Why have I never been to a massage therapist? He continued to do this, my toes curling. It felt amazing. Ugh. I never wanted it to end. I hardly realized I was kind of noisy in this process. You know...sexual noises. He stopped after about twenty minutes, slowing down and putting on less force. "Okay. My turn." I sat up and got off the table, grabbing my shirt. I put it on, which was a mistake because I felt all the oil stick to me. "Ew, why did I do that?" I asked.
"Don't worry. I'll grab you a shirt once we're done," he said. Of course he said he'd get me one after. That way I'd be shirtless. Or maybe because the oil had to dry still. Either way, I threw off my shirt, blushing as he casually removed his jacket and shirt. He was fit. Very fit. I knew he worked out, but I didn't know he was sculpted perfectly. Damn. He lied down on the table, resting his head on the pillow and closing his eyes. He also had tattoos I never knew of.
I doused some lotion on my hands and slowly rubbed it in, sliding my hands across his back, which was probably turning me on more than him. Man I need to get laid, but of course the person who's driving me insane is MY BOSS who is off-limits. Right? I mean, everyone knows I got this promotion and that I had never met him before. So if we got together then they couldn't say I'm getting special treatment. I'd still do my job, and how could I get special treatment anyway? I already do without being with him. I get time to nap, free food, and free transportation. And if we were together and I quit to stop drama, I'd still get special treatment and I doubt I'd even have to work. You know, if we were together I doubt I'd get paychecks. He'd just lend me his card or something, and I'd still be willing to do schedule his day. I mean, being his assistant now is like being his wife basically.
"You're pretty good at this," he said, eyes closed. He looked really cute when he had his eyes closed, relaxed, and a masculine guy like him isn't necessarily "cute." Gorgeous, sexy, hot, beautiful are words that pertain to him. "You have long fingers. It's good for this."
"If you ever fire me then maybe this could be my back up job."
He smirked, duh. He always freaking smirks. "I don't think I've ever fired a person. People have been fired from my company, but it was their bosses, people below me who decided to fire them. The only people I really have the decision to fire are Emilio, Vince and Michael, but we know that's not gonna happen, and then people who are in charge of each floor, like Gary, but I don't have any reason to fire them."
"What if it's a certain circumstance?"
"What type of circumstance?"
"I don't know. I steal from you."
"Why would you steal from me? You make a great amount of money."
"I know, but what if? Like I stole your car."
"You can't drive."
"Will you work with me?"
He chuckled to himself. "Alright. If you ever steal from me, then I'd just make you give it back. Hell, I doubt I'd notice. Stealing just seems so impossible with you. If you just ask then I'll be bound to say yes. Think of a different circumstance."
I sighed, thinking, working my hands in harder. "Okay," I huffed. "What if I committed a crime?" Shoot. Should I have said that? I know there was drama about him being a criminal. When he opened his eyes and sat up I knew I shouldn't have said that.
He looked at me seriously. "Emerson," he said intently. "If you ever commit a crime, let me know. The second after it happens, call me. Okay? You don't seem like the type to commit a crime, but if you ever commit one and you didn't mean to, let me know. In any circumstance, let me know. Alright?"
I nodded. Then I felt brave enough to ask, "What was the whole issue with you and being a accused of some crimes?"
"Well, some people might not like me and want revenge."
"Why would they do that?" I asked. "I mean, what do they have against you?"
He glanced down. Shit. Did I just put him in a bad mood again? "I'm not sure."
"It sounds like they're jealous, or otherwise insane."
He smirked. Good. He's not in a bad mood. "Maybe." He got off the table and grabbed our clothing. He walked to the secret room and turned to look at me over his shoulder, like he was debating on whether or not he should let me in. He smiled at me and then walked in. Maybe next time.
I walked to my desk and checked the planner. He didn't have anything planned, only to see his dad. It was then that Vince decided to walk in, and what an awkward sight it must've been. "Don't tell me you guys had sex," he said, eating a handful of oyster crackers.
My face became enflamed. "Of course not," I stated. "He was just in a very bad mood and needed a massage, but he had to show me how to first. That's all."
"Donald and I use massage to get in the mood ya know."
I groaned. How mortifying. Everyone already thought we were doing it. Might as well just do it then. As I was thinking this, Mr. Jeff came out of the room. He had on a gray shirt and a tie untied around his shoulders. He tossed me one of my shirts, a pale pink on. I put it on, the oil good and dry by that time, moisturizing my skin. I buttoned the shirt and tucked it in as Mr. Jeff buttoned his shirt. "Em," he said to me. "Do you know how to tie a tie?"
"Uh, yeah," I said. It was then that I realized he hadn't worn a tie for the past few days I've been his assistant. He just wore button-ups, dress pants, and occasionally a matching jacket.
"Tie this would you? I can never get it right. The wrong end is always too long.
"Why're you wearing a tie?"
"I told my father I have a meeting with Johnathan Karmichel. So, call him for me and set up a meeting in forty minutes."
"Can do," I said, tying his tie.
"What is it Vince?"
"Meeting. Tomorrow. We need to talk."
I finished tying his tie as he said, "Alright. Em, check my schedule." He walked to his desk as I checked the planner.
"You're free tomorrow at four."
"Okay. Write me in for Vince."
I nodded and scribbled it in. Then I found Mr. Karmichel's number and called. A woman answered and I set them up for a quick meeting in forty minutes. Later, when we were on our way to Mr. Karmichel's office, I asked him about why he cancelled his plans with his father. He sighed, telling me he really wasn't in the mood to see them, and that he'd much rather spend some time with Mr. Karmichel. The meeting with Mr. Karmichel was hardly a meeting. They just sat and talked as friends. Mr. Karmichel said that he was going to have a Halloween party and that he was invited, but it didn't seem like Mr. Jeff wanted to dress up. He was younger than Mr. Karmichel, but Mr. Karmichel was sitting there, drinking soda and using a piece of licorice as a straw after he bit the ends off.
It's interesting to think about how relationships form. When it comes to family relationships of course those are already set. The parent to child relationship and sibling to sibling relationship are natural and born that way. If you never meet your dad until you're twenty then yeah - it's different. But as for friends and romantic partners, it's interesting. Some can take time, others are a hit instantly. I knew this woman who met a man and within a week they were married, and years later they're still together. She just knew. Though then there are those type of friendships where they take forever to really happen. You have mutual friends and so you see each other often but you don't talk to each other. Though if you talk a lot together then it happens naturally over time, but not too long.
I had a regular routine. Mr. Jeff would pick me up every morning, we'd go and get a quick breakfast. We'd go to the building and I'd grab the flower, go upstairs and place it in his vase. We'd usually go to a meeting or otherwise sit in the office as he talked on the phones while I answered calls. Then lunch would arrive, we'd eat, he'd go to the same meeting everyday at one-thirty. He'd come back up at three and if he needed me he'd wake me or otherwise wait. Though he usually did need me at around three-thirty. I'd always tuck my shirt in and then see what was on his schedule. He'd typically have a meeting at four, but not everyday. When he did have a meeting it was only for about an hour. If he didn't have a meeting we'd find a way to preoccupy our time, usually by talking. Though at five, if things were busy he'd drive me home. I'd go home, go to sleep, call him at around eight and see if he needed anything. He never needed me and instead would go work out at nine like he did everyday and I'd take some sleeping pills. Though if it was five and we were busy then I'd go with him to some meeting.
That was the general day. Of course they weren't exactly the same, but they had the same premise. Sometimes we'd go shopping or someone would be having some type of gathering. Not a party, but just a brunch or something. It was very generic and slowly over the month of October we got to know each other more and became much more comfortable. I could actually form coherent sentences. He was hardly ever in a bad mood and his family didn't call too often. If they did, I'd rub his feet and hands, but a time didn't occur for me where he needed another back massage.
It was the same thing everyday, but I wouldn't change it for a million bucks.
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