Bent not Broken

by Lisa De Jong

  When I reached his side, he lifted his finger, indicating for me to wait a minute. Great! He pulled me aside and had the audacity to keep me waiting. After he gave a few more farewells, we were left alone in the huge classroom. Facing me with another big smile, he began to walk towards his desk.

  I followed, dragging my feet all while forming a handgun with my finger and thumb and aiming it at my head. Then I pulled the trigger. Okay, so that may seem a little childish for a twenty-four year old, but I didn’t want to be bothered that day.

  He took a seat behind his desk and handed me a sheet of paper. Raising an eyebrow at his amused grin, I looked down at the document. I was dumbstruck when I saw the letterhead. It was from The Law Office of Marcus DeLuca! I continued to read the letter when I realized it was addressed to me.

  Dear Ms. Sullivan:

  Thank you for applying to our summer externship. As you are aware, our firm chooses four law students each summer from Harvard Law. Each student will be placed in one of our four legal departments.

  After reviewing your resume and references, we would like to invite you to interview for an opportunity to be a part of the externship program.

  Kindly make arrangements to be at our office on Friday, April 27, 2012, at 9:00am, at the above address, Suite 2500. You will be meeting with me and possibly Mr. DeLuca if he is available.

  Unfortunately due to our fast-paced environment and busy schedule, this date cannot be rescheduled. If for any reason you cannot make this date, kindly call our office for a courtesy cancellation.

  I look forward to meeting you. Thank you for your time and cooperation.

  Very truly yours,

  Lisa Harper

  Human Resource Manager

  Stunned I read the letter two more times. I couldn’t believe it! I looked up at Professor Johnson who still had that smirk on his face. I shook my head in disbelief. “Um, Professor Johnson, this is terrific, but I didn’t sign up for the externship position. I thought it was only for third-year students.” He adjusted his crooked wire glasses and cleared his throat.

  “Well Lisa Harper is really good friends with my wife. So I asked my wife if she could do me a favor and put in a good word for you. Mia, you’re the best student I’ve had in my twenty years of teaching. You’re attentive; you submit your work on time, and you earned a 4.0 GPA your first year! You deserve this more than any third-year student.”

  Oh, that was nice … I guess he’s not so bad after all.

  “Professor, I truly appreciate this, but knowing that there’s a possibility that I’ll be interviewed by Mr. DeLuca is nerve-racking. How am I going to pull this off?” The thought made my stomach twist in knots. Marcus DeLuca was the youngest, richest, and most successful lawyer in Boston. This was a dream come true; it was also a foot in the door. Everyone who had been an extern for the DeLuca firm had either been hired or highly recommended for other top firms.

  “Mia, you’ll be great at the interview. Yes, you’ll be a little nervous; that’s normal, but once you’re in there, you’ll fly through that interview like it’s nothing. Look, today is Tuesday; your interview is Friday. Take a break tomorrow, but stop by my office on Thursday. We can practice interview questions, so that you’re better prepared.” He got up from his chair and walked over. Stopping when he was a foot away, he lifted the palm of his hand and patted my head. I felt like a six-year-old. “You’re going to knock this interview out the park. Trust me.” He crossed his arms and smiled, this time less irritatingly. Why is he being so nice to me?

  I lightly smiled. “Thank you, Professor Johnson. I have no idea how to repay you for this.” He shook his head.

  “Oh Mia, it’s my pleasure, really. I have so much faith in you. I know one day you’re going to be a very successful woman.”

  I hope so.

  ****

  Before going home I decided to stop by a local boutique. I had to find something appropriate for this interview. I was sure sweatpants, a t-shirt, and a Harvard baseball cap wouldn’t do. My fashion sense had simmered down the last few months, especially when I began law school. I didn’t have much of a social life. Maintaining a 4.0 GPA was not going to happen while out drinking and partying every weekend. Don’t get me wrong: I do have a fashion sense; I am a girly girl, but I do love my sweats and t-shirt days. Nothing in my closet at that moment was appropriate for a professional interview, especially with the number-one firm in the city.

  I was greeted by a tall, enthusiastic blonde. “Hi! Welcome to Fabulous Boutique, is there anything I can help you with?” She was very pretty. Her hair was cut in a short bob; she had bright blue eyes and red lipstick that went well with her fair complexion. She was dressed in a black, fitted dress, a nude belt, and matching pumps.

  Instantly I felt embarrassed by my appearance. Lowering my head to examine my own ensemble, I wrapped my arms around the middle of my stomach in an attempt to hide, but it was no use. In defeat I dropped my arms and brought my gaze back to her. She had a huge Cameron Diaz smile which was actually contagious. I smiled too. “Yes, um, I have an interview on Friday, and I need to find something that’s … professional?”

  She waved her hand in the air, “Oh yes! We have a great selection in our successful section. Come follow me. Are you a six?” Following her towards the far right of the store, I was distracted by the number of collections they had in such a small place.

  “Yes, I’m a six, sometimes a five; it depends.” I followed as instructed and passed a mannequin. The plastic figure was wearing a black and beige waistline pencil skirt with a sheer nude blouse. The collar of the blouse was tied in a bow, and a matching beige purse hung from the mannequin’s arm. It was pretty cute. “Something like this?” I pointed at the mannequin.

  “Oh yes, I’ll prepare some outfits for you to try on. It’s best if you purchase a few so you have plenty of options,” she said. And so I can spend money.

  She skimmed through the racks as I stared at her selections, wondering how badly my thighs or hips would look in the skirts and dresses she’d chosen. I was blessed with curves and although I learned to accept them, not everything looked good on these hips.

  She walked over to another section where she located a few blouses. Placing an emerald green blouse in front of me, she glanced from the thin silk fabric to my eyes. “Oh! This matches perfectly with your eyes, such beautiful eyes!” Looking down at the blouse then back at her, I smiled and gently shrugged.

  “What’s great about our boutique is that a lot of these pieces go well with each other, so it’s easy to prepare a few outfits with just four or five pieces of clothing,” she chanted as she continued to rummage through the hangers.

  She turned to face me with another Diaz smile; you could tell she enjoyed this kind of stuff. “Okay, we can start with these, come let me show you to the dressing room.” Reaching for my arm, she dragged me to the far back of the store.

  This should be fun.

  ****

  Melissa, the boutique clerk, was very useful and showed me different ways to wear the outfits that I purchased. After an hour with her I had two dresses, four skirts, and six blouses, as well as two pair of shoes, a purse, and some jewelry to add to my collection. I was also five hundred fifty dollars poorer, but whether or not I got this position, I still needed the clothes for other interviews. Well at least that was the logic I used when I swiped my credit card.

  I managed to squeeze myself and all of the bags through the narrow apartment door. As soon as I entered the living room, sleepy blue eyes popped up from behind the sofa. Jeremy looked worn out as he rubbed his lids with the back of his hand. His eyes widened at the pile of bags I was carrying. Then he flashed a gorgeous grin.

  “Celebrating summer break?” He nodded at my filled hands. I dropped the bags on the hardwood surface. Shopping is exhausting! Walking around the couch, I threw myself beside him and let out a huge draining breath.

  “No, I went shopping for an interview I have on Friday.” I turned to
look at him; he had an amused expression.

  “Interview? With whom?” I was a little hesitant, not sure if he’d be excited or upset with the news.

  Biting my lip, I blurted out, “The DeLuca firm.” Nervously chuckling, I watched as his lips slightly parted, and his cheeks lifted into a stupid boyish grin.

  “Mia, that’s awesome! I do too. I just received the letter today in the mail. My meeting is Friday at 9:30 in the morning. Wait, I thought they only accepted third-year students?”

  In a way this didn’t surprise me. Jeremy’s father designed the DeLuca firm’s building, and his father has a way of using the advantages of knowing powerful individuals to help out his son.

  I shrugged. “Professor Johnson put in a good word for me. I’m sure I won’t get the position, but it’s nice to be invited.” He placed his hand on my shoulder and gave me a reassuring smile.

  “Mia, I’m sure you’ll get it. I’m actually not surprised you have the interview…so you know what this means!” he sang.

  I knew I should be worried. “What?”

  He jumped from the couch while stretching his arms in the air. He wore only boxer briefs, and with his curly blond hair a mess, he still managed to look adorable. He’d been working out a lot more this semester for the summer, and his hard work had paid off. I glanced at his ripped abs. The firm muscular lines caused the pit of my stomach to twist.

  Swallowing, I tore my eyes away. The last time I’d had sex was two months ago, and it was with Jeremy. It began after my life changed seven months ago; he was there to comfort me, fully comfort me. Of course it was meaningless, drunken sex. We were able to do it and act as if nothing had happened.

  Jeremy had never been in a relationship longer than a month. So in between his breaks, we would rekindle our sexual relationship. It actually worked out for us; though two months ago…I told him I didn’t want to anymore.

  I watched him turn and walk towards the kitchen. He opened the fridge door, grabbed a carton of orange juice, and drank from the container. I shook my head. Boys will be boys. He held the carton out to me, and I shook my head again. “So what does this mean, Jeremy?” I hated when he kept me in suspense for this long.

  “We’re going to celebrate tonight. Let’s go to Club21.” He sat beside me again. Within a second, he spread his legs and grabbed his package. “And besides I need to find a one-night stand because Thor needs some loving!”

  I burst out laughing. “Thor? You named your package? Since when?”

  He smiled. “I didn’t. One girl told me in the sack that I looked like one of the Hemsworth brothers, so I stuck to it.” He shrugged and took another swig of the orange juice.

  Bringing my hands to my mouth, I tried my very hardest to stop the laughter. “Oh my God, please tell me she was hammered.” Jeremy was handsome, no doubt, but to compare him with the one and only Chris Hemsworth? She had to be drunk.

  He pouted. “Just a little. Besides, I have to get action somehow. You cut me off on that, remember?”

  Dropping my hands, I glared at him. “Jeremy we discussed this. In order for me to try and heal from the loss without your help, we can’t have sex anymore.” He nodded his head, agreeing, and I continued. “Besides, don’t you want me to help you find the hottest chick in the club tonight?”

  His lips curled, and he nodded again. “You’re right. You’re a better sidekick than any of the guys.”

  Getting up from the couch, I walked over, grabbed my bags, and headed to my bedroom before shouting, “See! There’s a good sport, so I should be ready around ten?”

  I walked into my bedroom when I heard him yell. “Yeah! And don’t be taking like five hours getting ready either!” I laughed and shut my door. It was only five, so I could take a nap. I hung up all my new clothes and laid out a dress, accessories, and shoes for the night.

  ****

  At 9:45 I was dressed with my hair and makeup done. Walking out of my bedroom, I decided to bother Jeremy. Not bothering to knock, I opened his bedroom door. To my surprise, he was lying on his bed in the same boxer briefs. “Jeremy!” His startled eyes peeked over the open lid of his laptop. “What are you doing? It’s fifteen minutes to ten!” Cocking my head, I glared at him as I threw one hand to my hip.

  Removing the laptop from on top of his stomach, he placed it beside him and sat up. “Come on now, you know it only takes me fifteen minutes to get ready. I’ll hop in the shower now.” He stood from the bed. After a few steps, he froze and eyed me up and down. It was an erotic stare down, and my legs uncomfortably began to tremble. “What?” I asked, straightening my posture but keeping my hand on my hip.

  With a slow and steady stride, he walked over. When he reached me, he was so close I could reach out and run my hands down his beautifully formed abs. He was sexy, but I didn’t see him that way—not anymore.

  Leaning in, he rested his hands against the inner doorway, my head trapped between his biceps. As if he weren’t near enough, he moved in closer to the side of my face. “How could you possibly help me find the sexiest girl in the club tonight? When I’m staring at her right now?” He erotically purred the words in my ear.

  He was delusional! He knew better than to make sensual comments like that when I was already in heat. My initial reaction was to smack his arm, and I did it so fast, loud, and hard it made him jump and grab his bicep. “Jeremy! Quit that nonsense, get in the shower, and take me out! You owe me two drinks and a shot for that!” He smiled with his gleaming aqua blue eyes.

  “Okay, okay, give a man a break. At least I tried. I am serious though; you look hot! I’ll be pissed if I hear you got laid tonight and I didn’t.” Grabbing a towel, he headed for the shower.

  Shaking my head, I made my way to the living room, threw myself on the couch, and grabbed this month’s People magazine.

  Twenty minutes later Jeremy was standing in the living room in his fitted black pants and white button-down shirt with the top two buttons unhooked. His sleeves were rolled halfway up his forearms. His blond hair was damp from the shower but more maintained than earlier. He was wearing black shoes; although I knew he’d rather wear sneakers. Club21 has a strict no-jeans-and-sneakers policy; it’s also harder to get into.

  I hurried to my bedroom to take one last glance in the mirror. I decided to leave my hair down. It was parted in the middle, so the golden brown waves fell down the side of my face and along my shoulders. The dress was a little short and tight, but it flattered my curves. The nude four-inch pumps allowed the radiant blue dress to pop; a bold gold chain necklace and matching bracelet completed my outfit. I smiled at my reflection, mentally thanking Melissa for the tips.

  Chapter Two

  In thirty minutes, we were in the Midtown Center City Boston nightlife. There was a strip with restaurants, bars, and nightclubs, but the place to be was Club21. After finding parking, we walked down the strip side by side, taking in the spring breeze. The stars in the night sky shone so beautifully on such a clear evening. When we reached the building, it had a ridiculous line that extended to the other end of the corner. It was a Tuesday night!

  Then I remembered that day began the summer break for most universities, and many students were out celebrating. Luckily Jeremy’s father was CEO of McCullen’s Architecture & Designs. Mr. McCullen’s firm built and designed Club21, thus my earlier comment about Jeremy’s father: due to his connections, his son was welcome right in with his guests.

  We reached a tall guard by the entrance. He was standing behind a platinum podium, wearing a black, fitted t-shirt, and his arms and chest were extremely huge. You could see every fat vein popping out of his biceps. I swear if he flexed an inch his shirt would have ripped. He looked up at Jeremy and smiled. “Mr. McCullen, you should have called. I’m afraid we don’t have any VIP sections available, but I’m sure I can reserve a table for you near a bar.” Mr. Husky seemed polite and professional with his strong Boston accent.

  Jeremy smiled in response. “Not to worry, Tony. A table for
four will be fine; I have two other guests who will join us, David and Michelle. Can you make sure they’re on the list?”

  David was a childhood friend of Jeremy’s. I only saw him and his new wife Michelle when we got together at Club21. They were more his good friends than mine. Tony jotted down the names, and let us in; the place was throbbing with a loud hip-hop beat.

  Mr. McCullen had done such an amazing job with this place. It had a luxurious, modern design. The dance floor was large enough to accommodate roughly one hundred people comfortably. There were six glass bars surrounding the club. Each bar had a different color fluorescent light gleaming through. The high ceilings were covered in white silk drapes, and the VIP rooms were on the second level overlooking the dance floor. Each of the rooms had a glass wall, so VIP guests could look down to view the entire first floor. Some of the curtains were closed for privacy, and others were open.

  I’d previously seen that the rooms were large enough to fit twenty people in each one. They were equipped with an oversized white sectional and a black ottoman. I had the pleasure of visiting a few of them, and they were all decorated the same way. Each room also was completed with a beautiful chandelier and dim blue lights. On warmer nights, guests were allowed to enjoy the oversized L-shaped underground swimming pool and deck out back.

  Jeremy grabbed my wrist and led me to the back near the blue bar. Beside it was a U-shaped sofa with a table in the middle. We slid along the seat until we met in the middle. Before getting comfortable, we were greeted by a tall brunette. She wore a black, fitted dress and black pumps. Her hair was slicked back into a low ponytail. “Hello Mr. McCullen, what can I get for you and your guest?” she asked.

  Jeremy glanced at me and I nodded. He knew what I wanted; he just wanted to double-check. “A Cosmo for her and a Grey Goose and tonic for me, thank you.” The waitress smiled and headed to the bar.