The most common way to get at taxi in NYC was to stand on the curb, put your hand out and hope. At the moment however, it was storming outside and no matter how bad I wanted Peter Bens gone, I wasn’t going to set foot outside. So calling a cab it was. Sandra said that due to the weather it would be a while before the taxi got to the building. Maybe even an hour. I thanked Sandra and walked back into the conference room where Peter was standing at the window looking at the falling snow.
“Mr. Bens?” I called, “Sandra said that the taxi company won’t be here for a while. An hour at the latest.”
Peter frowned and reached under my hat to scratch his head, “Damn. They don’t have an express or something?”
“You could go out there and catch a taxi yourself the old fashioned way.”
“Yeah go out and there and freeze to death. I nearly froze up sitting in the taxi to get here.”
“It probably wasn’t such a smart choice to leave the house without watching the weather.”
“Yeah probably.”
Peter let out a big sigh and drooped against the window. I stood awkwardly in the doorway of the conference room and shuffled my feet.
“You know what, Mr. Bens? I feel like Samantha would be better company than me right now, I’ll go get her.”
“No!” he shouted.
I flinched at his sudden outburst and he calmed down.
“Sorry, sorry. It’s just, your boss is a little creepy.”
“If she wasn’t the one paying me every 2 weeks I would agree with you but, for the moment, I’m going to say that is mean and untrue.”
We both laughed a little before he sighed again and sat down in one of the chairs around the table. I still stood in the doorway. Peter took off my gloves and laid them on the table before looking up at me.
“Why are you so far away, man? Come sit and talk, I’m not diseased I promise.”
I took a seat in one of the chairs across from him and he rolled his eyes, “You know, across the table is still far away. This is a pretty big table.”
“Look, Mr. Bens—“
“Call me Peter. We’re going to be around each other a lot right? We might as well get used to each other.”
I didn’t really think seeing someone once a week for a few hours counted as a lot, but whatever.
“Fine. Look Peter, you may be a celebrity and all but you’re still technically a stranger even though you're my client.”
“All right,” Peter replied putting his elbows on top of the desk and leaning towards me “Let’s not be strangers. I have like, an hour before the cab gets here, let’s get to know each other.”
“Ehhh, I’d like to keep the relationship between us strictly professional, to be honest.”
“What? Why? We could be friends.”
“I’m not really friends with people who are younger than me.”
“Please, you’re older than me by like maybe a year! It doesn’t make that much of a difference.”
“Peter. I’m 28.”
“No shit, really?”
I nodded.
“Damn, black really don’t crack huh? Well, let’s play twenty questions.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know it’ll be fun! And I’m bored and my phone is out of power and you were one of the only people who didn’t burst into tears or try to grope me so let’s play.”
“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?”
We lapsed into another uncomfortable silence after that. I stared down at my hands folded in my lap and felt guilty. Not for reminding him of his mother just then but, for using his mother to manipulate him when we had that meeting with Victoria. It was obvious that Peter still missed his mom, and it was kind of a dick move to use so I could get paid. I glanced up at Peter and sighed.
“I’m sorry.” I said after staring at his sad little face for a while longer.
“I told you, you didn’t know.”
“Not about that. I’m sorry for using your mom like that when we had that meeting with Victoria. It was shitty thing to do. I can tell how much you loved her.”
“Thank you for apologizing. It was a shitty thing to do, but I get why you did it, man. I can get new dogs and make new memories and everything. I can’t get back a career. You’re right about that. I’m sorry for snapping at you the other day too.”
“You don’t have apologize,” I replied quickly, “It was a manipulative thing to do, you were right to lash out at me.”
There was another long bout of silence after that before Peter clapped his hands and gave me a big smile.
“Well, now that we’re done feeling sorry for ourselves, we should exchange numbers.”
“I don’t think that’s a logical train of thought. Exchanging personal numbers with a client sounds like crossing a lot of professional boundaries.”
“I’d like to think we’re friends now.”
“We’ve only been in this room for,” I glanced at the clock on the wall, “45 minutes. You call people you’ve known for 45 minutes your friends?”
“Sure, I make a lot of friends that way.”
I couldn’t help it any longer, I let out an ugly, high cackle, completely surprised by the way this conversation ended up.
“Wait, wait, wait. I have a good reason for us to exchange numbers. If you need to call me up in an emergency you’ll get my direct line instead of being sent to my assistant. And if I need some PR help on the fly, I can just call you up. We both win here.”
I tossed the idea around in my head for a bit. Peter did have some valid points. But, exchanging personal numbers with him, that sounded like something Yi Wen would find a big no-no.
“Okay, fine,” I said caving and taking my phone out. We typed in each other’s numbers in no time. Just before I gave his phone back, I remembered that it was a good idea to put Yi Wen’s number in there too. I was opening up a ‘new contacts’ page on his phone when Peter slid my own across the table to me.
“You’re taking a while. Did you forget your number or something?”
“No, I’m just putting my partner’s number in here as well.”
Suddenly, I had nothing in my hand but air. Peter had all but rushed on top of the desk to snatch his phone back from me. The little, weirdo.
“No, no! I don’t really need her number.”
“You kind of do, actually. In this consultation Yi Wen is the head. She has the most experience; she’s good at what she does. Having her number would be a good idea. Give me your phone, it will only take a second to put her number in.”
Peter clutched his phone closer to his chest and shook his head.
“I don’t want her number. She’s…scary.”
“Yi Wen is not scary. She’s a lovely woman who is extremely good at her job and is currently saving your ass.”
“I know but…she’s so much bigger than me!”
“Yi Wen is only 6 foot 3. You only thinks she a giant because you’re not so tall.”
“Who needs to be 6 feet off the ground? Other than giraffes?”
That comment did get a little snort out of me. But I wasn’t surprised at Peter’s feelings about Yi Wen. A lot of people who didn’t know Yi Wen were afraid of her before they got to know her. It wasn’t her fault or anything; she just had a supremely angry resting face. Jocelyn once described it as the ‘I’ve just murdered my family and have nothing else to lose’ face. Which was a bit much, but add that to the fact that she was tall as hell, both men and women avoided her in the streets.
“Calm down, you don’t have to take her number okay. But Yi Wen is really nice if you got to know her.”
“She looks like she could crush my head with her bare hands.”
“Now you’re just being a baby.”
I opened up my phone contacts and raised my eyebrows at the new entry.
“Why did you name yourself ‘The Bae’, on my phone?”
“Because I’m cute.” He replied, fluttering his eyelashes at me.
“I’ve seen cuter.” I said and renamed his number ‘Peter Bens’.
“Wait, did you change it? You’re no fun.”
“I’m grown woman. What the hell am I doing naming somebody ‘the bae’ on my phone? That’s…as you kids call it, sus.”
“Wow, I am also not a child.”
“You’re practically the size of one, how am I supposed to remember that?”
Peter laughed loudly and fell back into his chair. “Oh, are we doing short jokes now? Only my friends get to that, so we’re officially friends.”
“You’re really hung up on this friendship thing, but whatever, yay we’re friends.” I said, waiving my hands slowly.
“Oh thank god!” Peter yelled, climbing over the table and dropping down on one knee in front of me, “Destiny Cissy Jones is my friend!”
He grabbed my hand in both of his and pressed in against my face “I’ve never been so happy!” He said, wiping and imaginary tear off his face.
I think I rolled my eyes so far into my skull that I caught a slight glimpse of my brain. “Let go of me, you—“
The door suddenly opened behind us. I twisted my head around to see Sandra with her head poked inside the door.
“Mr. Bens, the cab is outside.”
“Oh,” Peter said standing up and brushing the dust off his jeans, “thanks for the heads up, I’ll be right there.”
Sandra nodded at him and slowly retracted her head from the doorway, but not before giving a small smile and a wink. Damn it, now Sandra got this whole thing fucked up. Peter walked around the table and held out my gloves and hat to me. I rolled my eyes and stuck the hat on his head. This was probably a guy who only owned fingerless gloves and snapbacks.
“Keep the hat. You probably need it more than I do.”
Peter smiled at me and slipped the gloves on to before walking out the door. I plopped myself down in the chair and opened my contacts list again.
‘The Bae’.
Kids these days.