Bent not Broken

by Lisa De Jong

  Laughing once, he dragged his hand through his hair, thinking before speaking, “Stop over-thinking every little outcome. But to answer your questions, yes you’re exactly what I thought. No one will end up hurt. You will have the extern position; there’s no question about that. Don’t worry about what others may think. If, and I mean if, it doesn’t work out between us, your position will remain; your work life and personal life are two separate issues.”

  “Not when your work and personal life are combined. I don’t know Marcus. I’ve seen two separate sides of you so far. Last night you seemed angry and quite the asshole.” He raised an eyebrow. “Sorry…and then today you seem to be polite and a gentleman.”

  Relaxing his shoulders, he leaned into the table, folding his hands. “Last night my anger was not directed towards you: I was angry at Jeremy for leaving you behind. He was willing to allow you to take a cab alone at that hour. It upset me; that’s all. I apologize if I offended you in any way.”

  I stared at him for what seemed like a long time, trying to think this through. We didn’t say anything for a few seconds, just stared at each other. In less than twenty-four hours everything had changed. He was a very handsome man but a busy man as he himself said. What did he want from me? Why me? Fortunately the older man reappeared, ready to take our order, Marcus gave him our selections, and he rushed away.

  “Can I think about it?” I needed a clear mind to analyze this on my own time, not while he was staring at me with those big brown eyes.

  “Of course.” Leaning closer, he studied me. “How about we change the subject? Where are you from, Mia. I can tell you’re not from Boston from your accent.”

  I giggled. “My accent? I'm from Philly, and we Philadelphians do not have accents, whereas Boston natives do.”

  He shook his head, smiling. “How long have you been in Boston? Did you come here for Harvard Law, or were you living here prior to your attendance at the university?”

  Why was he so formal? I’m not on a damn interview, or maybe this is the interview!

  “I moved here with my brother when I was fourteen years old. He was ten years older than me and took care of me after our father passed away. It was emotional for us, so we left. He was hired as a detective, and he purchased a home here and took care of me.” I took a sip of water to distract myself for a moment. I didn’t want to cry. It was still too soon; every time I talked about my brother I’d get a little emotional.

  “Sorry to hear about your loss. If you don’t mind my asking, how did your father pass?”

  Taking a long gulp of water before answering, I shifted in my seat. “He was a Philly cop. He was shot and killed while responding to a robbery at a local gas station. When he appeared on the scene, he was alone. He phoned in on the radio, letting them know it looked clear and that he was going in to question the clerk. But when he entered, the robber was still there: a nineteen-year-old boy. He was startled when he saw my father in uniform, and his initial reaction was to pull the trigger.”

  He raised his eyebrows, not expecting that answer. “Wow, I'm so sorry to hear that.” The atmosphere between us became too serious. This was a subject I liked to avoid when people asked…because no one could understand why I had no one in my life. I had told these stories a few times before, but that time it felt different. I couldn’t quite explain why.

  “Your mother?” he continued to question.

  Clearing my throat, I thought to change the attention onto him, but I caved in. “I don’t know who my mother is. After giving birth to me, she left my father, leaving my brother and me in his care. I’d heard different stories, but the main one was that she suffered from depression and couldn’t deal with being a parent…and while on the subject, I don’t know anyone from my mother’s side of the family as well. My father was an only child. His father passed when he was young, and my grandmother died when I was nine of breast cancer.

  “So after my father passed, it was just my brother and I. When my brother died in October, I took it very hard.” I stopped myself and tried to make a joke out of my self-pettiness. “Well I guess I’m a loner, all by myself.” I nervously giggled, taking another sip of water, wishing I’d ordered that wine instead.

  His eyes widened in shock. I thought that maybe he’d see that I was emotionally messed up and rethink this getting-to-know-me-better bit. “Your brother passed too?”

  “Yes, but that’s a subject I rather not discuss. It's been a few months since his death, and I'm still taking it very hard.” He nodded in response, knowing not to touch that subject anymore. I managed to hold back my tears when talking about my brother, a first since his passing. “So you mentioned a brother. Is he older? Younger?” I asked, trying to steer the conversation away from me.

  He squirmed in his seat now that the tables were turned. “Uh, yeah, he's older but not by much, by four years; he's thirty-three. Uh, it was just he and I growing up. We have a close relationship. When my father passed, I was just beginning my freshman year in high school. My mother took it very hard and forced my brother and me to have a good relationship. At that time, we hated each other.” He laughed, thinking back. “It worked. I guess mothers know best, huh?”

  I shrugged my shoulders; I wouldn’t know. “Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean—,” he said.

  I interrupted him, “Don’t worry about it. You know, I think I will have that wine.”

  “Yes, I agree.” He called for the older man.

  After a couple glasses of wine, we forgot about the touchy subjects and discussed other things, such as Marcus taking over the firm from his brother who began it all. His brother quit practicing law and started a private company. We didn’t discuss this company much. He also mentioned how within a year after taking over the firm, he managed to double the size and clientele and tripled the profit.

  We also talked about Harvard, which he also attended. He remembered Professor Johnson as his instructor. He made me feel a little more comfortable when he explained that Professor Johnson was attached to him and made similar comments about one day him being bigger than the average attorney. To know that Professor Johnson had an eye for knowing who would succeed made me feel at ease. Marcus also translated between Mr. Giuseppe and me, and I grew more fond of the old man the more we talked and laughed throughout the evening.

  Pushing my plate aside and wiping my face with a cloth, I felt overstuffed. “Ugh, if I eat or drink anything else, my stomach is going to explode.” I laughed and Marcus joined in.

  “Yeah, me too.”

  We sat and talked a little before Mr. Giuseppe cleared our table. Marcus asked for the check, but the old man refused to take any money. He said that Marcus was family, and he wouldn’t take no for an answer. Marcus told him he’d leave a tip for the cook, and Mr. Giuseppe approved. We rose from our chairs, and I watched as Marcus pulled out his wallet, opening the flap and revealing several hundred-dollar bills. He placed three of the bills on the table, and we left. It was darker out, but the lights from the park made it feel earlier than it really was.

  “Would you like to walk through the park? I know it’s a longer way to get you back home, but I figured we could walk off what we just ate, and I can spend some more time with you.” He truly had the most beautiful smile I’d ever seen.

  Smiling at him, I said, “I would actually like that.” We walked side by side to cross the street. We entered the empty park. A nice breeze gave me a slight chill, and he took off his jacket and wrapped it around me. I thought it was such a sweet gesture. He leaned closer and placed his arm around my shoulder. I was close enough to smell his cologne; it was a sweet smell mixed with his own glorious body’s scent. It was delicious. I leaned my head against the side of his chest, and we continued to stroll through the park.

  We didn’t say anything, just enjoyed each other’s company. I was comforted by his scent and his strong grip around me. I could breathe his aroma all day and not get tired of that sweet smell. My thoughts began to turn on me as I imagined him
ripping my clothes off and laying his naked body on top of mine. It gave me the chills. I shivered at the delicious thought, and he rubbed his palm against my arm to warm me. If he only knew what caused me to shiver…

  When we reached the front of my building, I surprisingly didn’t want to go in. I enjoyed a beautiful night with Marcus, and he was leaving. I’d be alone, thinking of him in my dreams. He stood in front of me, and I couldn’t help but move in closer and inhale his scent. “You smell so good,” I whispered, unable to control my thoughts.

  He cupped my cheek with his hand and lifted my face till our eyes met: his dark brown eyes to my emerald green. His thumb gently rubbed against my cheek. “Your eyes are so beautiful; you’re beautiful,” he whispered back. “Promise me you’ll think about what I said about us spending more time together.” I nodded while my eyes remained locked to his.

  He licked his lips in a different way this time. He took his time; it was a more erotic lick and ended with a slight bite to the bottom lip. He ducked his head, tilting to the right. He was going to kiss me! I could feel the electricity going through my veins, and he hadn’t even touched me yet.

  I closed my eyes, anticipating his mouth. My heart raced as I felt them: his soft warm lips against mine. I felt his mouth open, and he slid his tongue into my mouth. He was gentle, sucking on my bottom lip and returning his tongue back inside in soft circular motions. I wanted more, so I deepened the kiss, forcing my tongue in as far as I could go. He moaned and pulled my hips to his.

  I dragged my fingers through his soft, thick hair and tugged lightly. He groaned again, and I felt his erection pressing against my body. Just thinking that my kiss could have that effect on him made me want him more. I rose on my tiptoes, so I could further the kiss.

  His left hand was at my waist, pressing me against him, and his right hand was in my hair, his fingers wrestling through my ponytail. His mouth tasted of wine and salt, and I craved him. I’d never wanted a man so much. I would’ve taken him right there in the middle of the sidewalk if I didn’t care that others were watching. I was lost in his spell, and at that moment I didn’t care if anyone watched.

  He broke from the kiss first at the sound of the door closing behind us. I looked up, and there was my third floor neighbor. I scowled at the old witch, disliking her even more for interrupting my moment.

  She walked down the stairs and glanced at us suspiciously. Marcus gave her a polite nod, and I shot an annoyed smirk at her. She continued down the street, walking her pug. I touched my lips to calm the soreness of the kiss. Once my neighbor was out of earshot, he snapped back in my direction with intense eyes. “Mia,” he breathed. I tried to catch my breath as well.

  As if I needed any more distractions, I felt my phone vibrate against my back pocket. I took it out to see a text from Jeremy.

  Jeremy (10:22pm): Where are you?

  Me (10:23pm): On my way up.

  Shoving the phone back in my pocket, I sighed heavily. “I have to go.” He nodded. I was midway through shrugging his jacket off when he grabbed my arm to stop me.

  “Keep it, that way you can have my scent near you, and hopefully it will make the decision about us easier for you.” He flashed that dimple and gorgeous smile I was beginning to love and leaned down to plant a small kiss on my forehead. Without another word, he strode to his car which was parked only a few feet away. I watched him get in before I entered the building. What just happened?

  Hopefully it was dark enough that he couldn’t see from the rear-view mirror my stupid, girly, ear-to-ear grin. He tasted so good, his lips were so soft, and he was such a great kisser. I was sure I’d replay that kiss in my mind the rest of the night. Was that his plan to kiss me so passionately that I had no choice but to want more? Well it worked. What was I supposed to do? He gave me the best kiss I’d ever had and then left me deprived.

  After taking a few moments to calm my racing heart, I entered my apartment with thoughts of Marcus, but they were instantly placed on standby. The brunette from the club last night startled me as she peeked from over the open refrigerator door. She straightened and slowly closed the fridge. She didn’t move, and her expression was one of a deer in the headlights. Jeremy rushed out his bedroom door and nodded, which meant it was my cue.

  “What the fuck is going on here!” I yelled, throwing my clutch and Marcus’ jacket on the dining room table.

  “Please, baby, let me explain.” Jeremy was holding his hands up to stop my movement.

  “Oh don’t ‘baby’ me, who the fuck is this?” I dramatically turned my body and waved my arm in her direction. She was shocked and confused; her eyes went from Jeremy and to me and back several times. The realization that she was naked came to her, so she quickly covered her breasts with her arms.

  “Uh, you … You have a girlfriend?” she stuttered at Jeremy.

  “Try fiancée, sweetie! You have ten seconds to throw your shit on and get the fuck out of my apartment!” I glared at her. She didn’t move, and I placed my hand on my hip. “Now!” She ran to Jeremy’s room and back out, throwing her dress over her head. Rushing by me, she grabbed her purse and phone from the dining room table and hurried out the door barefoot, not saying a word or apologizing. I looked at Jeremy and rolled my eyes. He ran over to me, kissing both of my cheeks.

  “You are a true talent, my dear Mia!” He placed his arms around my shoulders and led me to the sofa. I lay back and rested my head against the arm of the couch with my legs thrown across his thighs.

  “I take it she wasn’t good enough for you?” I asked, knowing the answer. Jeremy had a habit of mixing me up in his sex life. If a female became too clingy, he was instantly turned off. It all started a year ago when he brought home a girl who wouldn’t leave; he’d run into my bedroom, begging me to get her out. Ever since it’d become a ritual: he would nod, and I’d know he wanted her out. If he immediately introduced us, then I’d know he wanted more time with her. I knew it was disgusting, and it was even worse that I played along, but he was my best friend. He was my only friend.

  He slapped my thigh, “You have no idea! The minute we were done, she started comparing our facial features and told me how cute our babies would be. Geez, can I ever find a non-psychotic female?”

  “You’re a pig!” He truly was disgusting! I threw my arms over my head.

  “Whatever, I couldn’t wait for you to get home. You were out pretty long. Were you with DeLuca the entire time?” He reached for the remote and turned the TV on.

  “Yeah, we had dinner at a little Italian restaurant called Romano’s. Have you heard of it? It’s literally one block away from the university.” Desperately trying to avoid questions about Marcus and me, I thought the subject of the restaurant would steer us away from it.

  “Uh, yeah, I walked past it a few times. I thought it was closed though; I’ve never seen anyone go in and out of that place.” He flicked through the channels until a comedy, The Hangover, was showing. We didn’t say anything after that and just enjoyed each other’s company while laughing at each scene.

  Once it was over, I slowly moved off the couch, trying to avoid waking Jeremy from his sleep. Grabbing my clutch and Marcus’ jacket from the table, I entered my room.

  After changing into boy shorts and a tank top, I was finally nestled in my comfy bed. I was pulling my phone out of my bag to charge it when I noticed two text messages. Both were from Marcus: one an hour ago and one less than five minutes ago. Before I opened the text messages, it took me a few seconds to realize that he must have programmed his number into my phone while at work. Looking at the text, I couldn’t help the huge grin on my face.

  Marcus (10:40pm): U were on my mind all day, n u will surely be on my mind all night. TY for a lovely evening and a kiss I will never forget.

  Marcus (11:50pm): Sweet dreams, baby.

  I waited before responding, not able to wipe the smile off my face. I wanted to give him something to think about all night.

  Me (11:53pm): I will surely
have sweet wet dreams of that kiss all night.

  Marcus (11:53pm): You’re killing me.

  Me (11:54pm): Good night Marcus

  Marcus (11:55pm): Good night Mia.

  ****

  Last night was the best sleep of my life. Dreaming of Marcus’ lips, body, and scent put me at ease. Then the thought that I could have it all in reality put me in a greater mood. I woke up, sang in the shower, and made breakfast. I also placed a plate of pancakes, eggs, and bacon for Jeremy in the microwave and headed out the door to meet Professor Johnson to go over the interview questions. It was a beautiful day out, so I decided to walk instead of drive. The university was only a fifteen-minute walk away. The entire stroll he was on my mind. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d woken up this happy. It was early, but I decided to send him a text anyway.

  Me (8:35am): G.M., I slept very well last night. I hope you did as well?

  Before entering Harvard’s building, I switched my phone to vibrate mode and shoved it in my back pocket. I headed for Professor Johnson’s office. His door was open. When I walked in, he was sipping on coffee and reviewing the newspaper. He popped his head up at the sound of my footsteps and smiled. Taking the seat in front of his desk, I returned his gesture with a brighter smile than usual. “So Mia, are you ready for this interview tomorrow?” He placed the paper down and took another sip of coffee before placing the mug on top of his desk.

  “Ah, yeah, I think I’m ready, but it’s nice to go over these interview questions. I appreciate you taking the time to go over this with me, Professor.”

  Almost an hour later, Professor Johnson went over my resume, asked a few questions, and quizzed me on the firm. I didn’t know much about Marcus DeLuca himself, just what was in a small biography written on the firm’s website. Johnson said it would be smart to do some research on him as he always does research on the owner or CEO of the company he interviews with.