I open the trunk to my car and pull out our stuff.
“Do you want to come in and hang out?” I cringe at how stupid that sounds but I’m desperate. I’m so addicted to her that it pains me to think about her driving away and going back to Arnold.
She steps closer and runs her hands along my shoulder. “No, I’ve got stuff I need to do—girl stuff.”
“Girl stuff? Anything I can help with?”
“Not unless you’re good at mani-pedis.”
“I could try,” I offer. I’m an artist…so how hard could it be?
She wraps her arms around me and holds on tight. “No, I think we will leave that to the little woman with the sharp scissors. But thanks for offering.”
I pause and look down at her lips with longing. “I suppose I used up all my practice kisses this morning, huh?”
“Yeah, mister, that was about a week’s worth, but who’s counting.”
She surprises me by reaching up and pressing her lips against mine. It’s a sweet slow kiss, her tongue barely grazing mine. When we part I pause for a moment with my eyes closed not wanting it to be over.
I feel her pulling her bags out of my hands. “That was so much fun. Thanks, Nathan.”
“Will you come with me again?” I ask, hopeful.
“How about next month? It’s the second Sunday every month.”
“Yup, it’s a date then.” I grin widely.
“So, see you tomorrow?”
I nod and watch her get in her car.
Inspired, I spend the rest of the afternoon drawing without restraint. Pose after pose, naked and clothed, stretched out and curled up. Laughing, pensive, smiling…every kind of beautiful.
Brooke.
Animate Me / Chapter Eleven / Man With a Tux
“We’ve been framed, Gumby. Never trust animated people.” ~Pokeyx
At four in the morning I wake up suddenly and lay there stunned until it is time to drag myself to work. I watch the clock until the afternoon, when our group finally heads to Starbucks. Now I am minutes away from seeing Brooke again, signifying the impending conclusion of my restlessness.
I walk right past Morgan and into Brooke’s office. Brooke is working at her computer, so I go straight up to her desk and sit down in the one of the visitor chairs. She looks up when I set down her coffee.
“Well, hello.” She laughs but then stops when she notices the look on my face.
“Are you all right?”
I lean forward on my elbows. I gaze at the grain in the wood of her desk and finally ask the question that has tormented me for the last twelve hours.
“So that’s it, isn’t it…Rachel’s gay?” I exhale long and slow, finally letting the air out of my chest. “It hit me in the middle of the night, and I’ve thought of nothing else since then.”
She gets up and closes her office door, then returns to her chair. She pulls up close to her desk and leans in towards me.
“Well, that would explain a lot, wouldn’t it?”
“I’ve wondered if that were the case from time to time. I even asked her once but she insisted that she wasn’t.”
Brooke has a sympathetic look on her face. I’m shaken even though I’ve agonized over the idea since four a.m., complete with visions of Rachel with other women dancing in my head.
“She must not have felt ready to admit it to you.”
“Is that what my mom thinks too?” I ask anxiously.
“Shouldn’t you ask her directly?” she gently suggests.
“I need to know right now. Come on, Brooke…”
She slowly nods, and I sigh.
“But please talk to her about it. I feel bad telling you.”
“Why didn’t I trust my instincts? Do you think Rachel was always gay, or did I make her that way?”
“Oh God, how could you think that? Of course she was born that way, but she must have cared about you enough to want to try men anyway.”
“Oh, lucky me!” I say sarcastically. “So remember how I told you that she loved me, you know…giving her oral sex? I was thinking about that all day and how she would always have her eyes closed. Do you think she was imagining I was someone else…a woman?”
“Maybe,” Brooke says sadly.
“Yeah, and her current roommate is kind of a tomboy. I swear, I’m so damn slow!” I press my fingers over my forehead in frustration.
“You just didn’t want to see it. Didn’t you say she was the first girl that you had a strong connection with? All things considered, I’m not surprised you didn’t pick up on it since she had indicated to you that she was straight.”
“You’re just trying to make me feel better,” I say quietly.
“No, I’m not. Give yourself a break; you aren’t only attracted to gay women. Like what about Dani? I know she isn’t gay. And you seem to enjoy me, and I’m not gay.”
“But you’re just helping me. That doesn’t count.”
“Sure it does, I’m not just helping selflessly. I always get really turned on with you,” she says matter of fact, like she’s talking about the weather.
“You do?” Suddenly it’s like the clouds have parted. Rachel, and all her gayness, fades out of my mind.
“What? You can’t tell? I thought it was rather obvious at your place yesterday morning. I’ve been very tempted to accelerate the education into advanced studies.”
I blush and immediately feel my pants tightening. “Wow, I’d really love to sign up for that.”
Oh, you’re such an idiot! I shift in my chair, embarrassed that I opened my big trap.
“Damn…sorry, I’m just so clueless. I wasn’t completely sure you really felt like that…”
She laughs. “Well then, you’ll just have to take my word for it.” She looks down at her coffee and lifts it to examine it more closely. “Now, what do we have here?”
“Brooke Berry Shortcake,” I respond, smiling.
The drawing is of her perched like a sexy pin-up on top of a huge strawberry with a strawberry hat on her head. She’s wearing yoga pants and a fitted T-shirt.
“Oh, this is awesome. I love it!”
I smile at her and then look down at the pile of projects strewn over her desk. “Well, we should get back to work.” I slowly push away from her desk.
“Are you okay?” she asks, watching me carefully.
“I guess so. But I think I’ll drink the hard stuff tonight.”
• • •
Dani nails me near the break room.
“So I hear you and Brooke went to the Rose Bowl. What am I, chopped liver?”
“No, you’re just not Brooke.” I point out, confused that this isn’t obvious.
“But I’m your pretend girlfriend. I need attention too.”
I suppose she’s right since she’s the one trying to help me. “Okay, when should we go out again?”
“Well, a bunch of us are going out tomorrow night. Why don’t you take me?”
“Is Nick going?”
“Yup,” she says happily.
“I’m onto you, Dani.”
“Screw you, Nathan. I’m onto you too.”
The next day, just after lunch I get a frantic call from Brooke.
“Nathan, thank God you’re there. I’m so screwed. I have a presentation in an hour, and my damn computer’s frozen. I have documents I have to print out. I’d call the IT guy but he’s a raving idiot.”
“No problem. I’ll be right up.” I’m so excited she needs me that I take the stairs instead of waiting for the elevator.
She looks completely stressed when I arrive. She pushes away from the computer and offers me her chair.
“Thanks for coming so fast.” There’s relief and gratitude in her voice.
“Don’t worry, I’ll get you fixed up in no time.” I settle in and get to work with complete focus. I need to make this work for Brooke.
About ten minutes into it, I’ve unfrozen the computer and located the documents, when Arnold comes into her office. I l
ook up and see him regarding me with scorn.
“Do you ever work, man, or just come in here and bug Brooke?”
Stunned, I sit up tall and start to respond when Brooke jumps in.
“Lay off, Arnauld,” she says harshly. “For your information my computer froze before I could print out the treatments for the meeting. He’s helping me recover them.”
“But I thought he was an animator. Why didn’t you call IT?”
He directs his glare back at me. “Let me guess; are you one of those super geeks that stays up all night playing with computers too?”
He reminds me of the jocks that used to bully me in high school, and I can’t let him do that to me in front of Brooke.
“No, I’m an animator who happens to be good with computers.”
I hear Brooke snicker softly.
Arnauld rolls his eyes and turns to Brooke. “Whatever. Look babe, I’ve got a problem.”
“What’s that?” she asks impatiently.
“I’ve got a conflict now with Emmy night, and I’m not going to be able to go.”
“What are you talking about? It’s this Sunday! You’re supposed to take me. This is a big deal.”
I can’t help but listen, and I take a glance. I’m surprised at how upset she looks. She must really want to go to the Emmys.
“I know this is your big night…after all, you are the one who discovered Lazlo and helped him develop Danny Deletes, but I’ve worked things out. Roger’s offered to take you instead.”
“I don’t want to go with Roger,” she all but shrieks. “He is the dullest man I know. He’ll want to talk projections all night.” She puts her hands on her hips and juts her chin out. “So, what’s so damn important that you can’t take me?”
He looks down and I know before he opens his mouth that it’s bad.
“Zach got us ticket for the big fight in Vegas. Third row seats.”
“Are you fucking kidding me? You’re blowing off my big night for a fight?”
“Do you have any idea what it took for him to get those tickets, babe?”
“I don’t give a damn what it took! I’m not going with that loser Roger so you better rethink your plans.”
“Roger is CFO of this company Brooke.” He turns and points at me. “What? Would you rather go with this dweeb?”
I turn around pissed off. Did that asshat just call me a dweeb in front of Brooke? “Hey,” I challenge him, absolutely amazing myself.
“Don’t worry, toon boy, she’d never go with you.”
“Screw you, Arnauld. I’d love to go with Nathan.” She turns to me. “Will you take me to the Emmys Nathan?”
Things are suddenly looking up. “Sure, when it is again?”
“Wait just a damn minute,” Arnauld rages. “You can’t go with him. Just look at him with those goofy glasses and floppy hair, you’ll look ridiculous. I bet this geek didn’t even go to his prom. Have you ever even rented a tux, man?” He folds his arms over his chest assuming victory.
“Actually I own one,” I state calmly.
“What?” they both ask in unison.
They both look shocked. I can’t begrudge Brooke for her surprise. It’s unusual for someone like me to own a tux. But my dad dislikes renting anything. It’s against his religion or something. So we all got tuxes for the black tie event when he won the National Award for Outstanding Innovations. He told me at the time that I would wear it for my wedding one day. I bet he never imagined that I would wear it to the Emmys too.
“Is it a Halloween costume or something?” Arnauld asks warily.
“No, actually it’s an Armani. I got it at Barney’s.”
I’m sure that little tidbit impresses him, Mr. Hip Fashion guy. Screw you, hairy back. I hope one of those boxers gets knocked out of the ring and lands on you, crushing that stupid look right off your face.
Brooke’s grin is priceless. I can tell she may break into a happy dance any moment.
“Well then, that’s all settled. So if you’ll excuse us Arnauld, we have some plans to make.”
He gives me a death glare and I shrug my shoulders. He storms out of her office.
She walks over to me and kisses me on the cheek.
“What’s that for?” I ask puzzled.
“That was priceless…I swear I love you, Nathan. You really perform well under pressure. How did you ever think up that tuxedo thing…and Barney’s! That was brilliant!”
“But I really do have an Armani tuxedo from Barney’s, Brooke.” I explain, suddenly worried that she doesn’t intend to actually go with me. “Can I still take you?”
She throws her head back laughing, and it makes me smile to see her so happy.
“Hell yes! Believe me, there’s no one else I’d rather go with.”
The next day I tell Brooke that I’m considering contacts.
“Is this about Arnauld mentioning your glasses? Don’t think you have to change because of what he said.”
“I know. But remember when you took off my glasses that time and told me what nice eyes I have? I actually started thinking about it then. I even talked to my ophthalmologist about it last week at my check-up.”
“Okay, if you’re sure. As long as you’re going why don’t I come and we’ll pick up some stylish frames as back up. Lot’s of girls love guys in glasses if they’re cool ones.”
“You’ll come help me pick them out?”
“Sure, let’s see if we can get into L.A. Eyeworks this evening. Arnauld gets all his glasses there.” She scans through her Blackberry until she finds the number. “Do you have your prescription?”
“Yeah, I’m pretty sure it’s in my book bag.”
• • •
The highlight of my week thus far is Brooke picking out frames and gently easing them on me. Each time, she brushes my hair up off my forehead and steps back for a better view.
“Your green eyes are so gorgeous. They were hidden under your heavy old glasses.”
I smile as she slowly pulls the third pair off. They’re a sleek European design like the hipsters wear.
After the fourth pair, she shakes her head and mutters something to herself.
“Is something wrong?” I ask, pushing the new frames further up my nose.
“No, you just look really hot. You’re going to have the girls lined up.”
“A line of girls? Well, then…let’s buy this pair. If you think I look hot, that’s good enough for me.”
She goes and talks to the technician while I study myself in the mirror. I don’t see the big difference, but I’m used to ignoring my reflection unless I’m shaving.
She returns, stepping up behind me to study how I look again. I can’t help feeling nervous; it’s so important to me to look good for her.
“Well?” I question. Has she changed her mind?
“Very hot,” she confirms.
“You think so? Would you be one of those girls in line?”
“Hell, I’d be first in line.” She makes a dramatic Dream Girls-like arm motion. “I’d be all, watch out, bitches…he’s mine.”
He’s mine? Oh God, that’s making me wild inside.
I swallow as I watch her in the mirror’s reflection. “How soon will they be ready?” I ask anxiously. I need these glasses now.
“You can take the contacts tonight. They’ll deliver the frames to you tomorrow.”
Thursday I suffer through the contacts only a few hours in the afternoon so Brooke can see me wearing them. It’s as long as I can stand them, and that’s with repeated eye drops. As it is I spend half of my lunch hour trying to get them in, after being too chicken to try in the morning.
I can’t tell what’s more painful, adjusting to the little discs stuck to my eyeballs or all the attention my new look is garnering. I have to wonder, why didn’t anyone tell me I looked like a super geek in my old glasses? I always thought they were cool.
All the girls seem to be intrigued with me now. Even Morgan gives me the look when I go to Brooke’
s that afternoon.
“Hey handsome,” Brooke says as she reaches for her macchiato. “Are you coming over tonight to help with the website? I’ll show you my dress for Sunday.”
“Sure,” I say enthusiastically. “Do you want me to pick up dinner?”
“Nope, I’ve already ordered us a sushi platter.”
“You were that sure I was coming?”
“Have I mentioned that I’ll be wearing my yoga pants?” She teases.
I grin. “Well then, I’m coming for sure.”
Brooke suddenly looks up and I turn to see Morgan in the doorway.
“Sorry Brooke, but Arnauld just called and he needs you in on this call. They are in the conference room across from his office.”
She stands up and grabs her Blackberry and notebook. “Okay, thanks Morgan.” She touches my shoulder as she steps away from her desk. “So, I’ll see you later.” She winks, and I nod, smiling.
On my way out of Brooke’s office I pause at Morgan’s desk.
“Morgan, can I ask your advice?”
She looks surprised, but nods. “Sure.”
“As you know, I’m escorting Brooke to the Emmys Sunday.”
She jumps in. “Yeah, before I forget, do you want the limo to pick you up at your place, or Brooke’s?”
I have no idea how to answer that, but it occurs to me that at the end of the night I don’t want to just have the driver drop her off. “Well, why don’t I go to Brooke’s and then they’ll just have one stop?”
“Okay, then be there and ready to go at five. Oh, and you do know it’s black tie, right?”
She must really think I’m an idiot, but I remember I need her help so I remain polite and calm.
“Yeah, thanks Morgan, I’m set with a tux. But Arnauld said my hair looks stupid and I don’t want to embarrass Brooke. Do you know of a good barber I could go to that would make me look all right?”
I can tell that my question has pleased her. “Great idea. Let me do a little research, and I’ll email you within a half hour. It’s kind of late notice for the top people though.”
“Well, I could do it any time tomorrow late afternoon, or Saturday.”
Morgan makes notes on her pad.
“Also, I have no idea about these things…do I bring her a corsage or something?”
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