by Jen Trinh
Secondly, I figured that I could just meet someone at my climbing gym. There were a ton of fit, awesome women there. They were usually just there to climb, and not to talk, but occasionally, there were some looking to mingle. My current climbing partner, Lina, was one of them. Even though we didn’t talk about anything other than climbing (she was oddly evasive when I asked her about herself), it was a start. Girls knew other girls, right?
Thirdly, I was still a little bummed about Anna. I couldn’t shake the feeling that we could’ve been good together.
She’d been so full of opinions, emotions, feelings...life.
She was like a spicy curry, and everyone else was boiled potatoes.
If only she’d waited for me...I would have devoured her and licked her clean, then come back for seconds and thirds.
But she hadn’t, the closed-minded shrew.
Her loss.
So instead of actively hunting for a girlfriend, I climbed hard. There was no trouble, no frustration, that I couldn’t climb away. The raw physicality of climbing, the need to push myself and give 110% to my project…it consumed me so that there was nothing left to fuel the other emotions that fought for my attention, like fear about my parents or stress about work. Or loneliness.
Climbing was a form of meditation for me, and tonight’s session had been an especially good one. I’d found my flow and finally sent the green bouldering project that I’d been working on for the past two weeks. After so many attempts, so many failures...I was riding high on the feeling of success.
I’d just finished showering when I heard the familiar ding! of my phone, letting me know that I’d received a text message. I threw my towel onto the bed and glanced at the screen.
Hey Ian. This is Anna Tang, Cassie’s friend from college. From the wedding. I was wondering if you’d be free to meet up for coffee sometime this week? I’d like to talk to you.
I stared at the screen, unsure of how to respond. It had been almost a month since we’d last seen each other, and I was still kinda sore that she’d completely ghosted me. I considered ignoring her, or making her wait for a response...but really, what was the point of playing games? She wanted an answer, I wanted to know what was going on—always better to be direct.
I’m free tomorrow at 8am, I typed, hoping it wasn’t too early. Where should I meet you?
A moment later, she responded, The Doughnut Cathedral on 21st?
See you there, I typed back. I tossed my phone on top of the towel and sat down on the bed, reminiscing about how turned on she’d been that night, about the incredibly sexy sounds she’d made as I ate her out. I’d thought about that night countless times since then. Maybe she missed me. I smirked at the thought, however unlikely it was.
◆◆◆
I arrived a few minutes early and ordered a black coffee and two Boston cream donuts, one for there and one to go, the latter of which they playfully termed a to-gonut. I didn’t usually eat sweets, but Boston creams were nostalgic for me, my dad’s favorite. So I sat down in a corner table and waited, leisurely munching on a cream-filled donut.
Two minutes later, the door opened and Anna walked in. She was bundled up in a peacoat with a red scarf and matching red beanie. A short forest green skirt peeked out from beneath her coat, along with black stockings and knee-high black suede boots. She carried a plaid black and white purse, a large black bow on one side. Still as cute as ever.
“Hey! Thanks for coming—for meeting me here.” She approached and opened her arms for a hug. I hid my surprise and hugged her back, keeping it brief and casual.
“No problem. Hope it wasn’t too early. Morning is the only time that I can get any focused work done at the office, so I usually like to get in by 8:30.”
“Nah, it’s fine. I’m a morning person,” she replied, yawning.
My lips twitched. “Do you want something? Coffee?” I waved expansively at the counter.
“Oh, no thanks,” she sighed, staring wistfully at the menu.
“Ah...let me at least get you a coffee.” I took a step towards the counter, but she grabbed my arm.
“No no, I really don’t want anything.” She bit her lip and briefly scanned the display case of donuts before meeting my eyes. Did she want something or not?
“Okay. Well at least have this donut. I already bought it for you,” I lied, sitting back down and pushing the to-gonut across the table to her.
Her eyes sparkled. “Really? Well if you already bought it for me…” She picked up the donut and brought it to her lips, and I sat back to enjoy the no-doubt sexy spectacle of her eating a cream-filled donut, especially after that show at the Ethiopian restaurant in SF.
Anna did not disappoint. I watched in slow motion as she chomped into the donut, taking out a full third of it in one awe-inspiring shark bite. Her eyes closed in ecstasy as globs of cream exploded across her lips, her cheeks ballooning to accommodate the large volume of pastry. She chewed twice, once on the left and once on the right, before her tongue flicked out and around her mouth, smearing the messy cream all over her lips and pushing some up towards her nostrils. She opened her eyes and chewed a few times more (surely not enough for that much donut), then performed a tremendous gulp. Finally, she swiped the side of her thumb across her lips, then licked it like a cat licking its paw...and smiled. “This is delicious.”
I coughed and choked down my hysterical laughter. “Ahem. Hmm. So what can I do for you?”
She looked at me for a moment, then down at the rest of her donut. “First...I want to apologize.”
I quickly sobered. “For?” I assumed what for, but I wanted to hear her say it.
“For...running away, at the wedding. For....not talking to you?” Her voice pitched up at the end, as if asking a question.
“For...completely ghosting me?” I added, mocking her questioning tone. I guess I was bitterer about what had happened than I’d thought. I sipped my coffee to avoid saying anything else.
She frowned, then sighed. “Yeah. That. I’m really sorry. I should have just waited for you to finish.” Her eyes widened as she heard her own words.
I leaned back and laughed. “I would have loved to have finished.”
She shook her head and averted her eyes. “You know what I mean. I’m sorry.”
“Not...really. Why did you leave?” I hesitated, then added, “You know I would’ve come back and eagerly finished the job.”
She sat up a little straighter and swallowed. “I mean...what would you do if someone just left you there after you’d been practically begging them…” She trailed off and bit her lip.
“Ok. I get it. But I wouldn’t have left you like that if I didn’t have a good reason.” I sighed, glad for her apology, but not yet ready to forgive. “It’s fine, though. There’s no need to apologize, really. You had every right to do as you pleased.”
“Still...Cassie told me about your mom. I had no idea. Is she doing okay?” she asked, voice sincere.
I nodded. “Yeah, she’s getting better. She’s almost done with chemo.”
Her face broke into a smile, bright and earnest. “That’s great to hear.”
I popped the last of my donut into my mouth while Anna took another bite of her own. We chewed in silence for several seconds before I asked, “So was there anything else you wanted to talk about?” She seemed nervous, not horny. Not looking for an encore.
“Ah, yeah.” She hesitated, then sighed. “I actually need your help. I’d like to apply for a job at Stumpstash.”
I blinked. “You want to apply for a job there? Doing what? We don’t do music stuff.”
She took another monstrous bite of her donut, chewing a bit more thoroughly this time. I wanted to brush the sugary flakes of chocolate glaze off her pink lips, but her sweet little tongue beat me to it. “Cassie told me that there was an office admin role in the New York office. She thought it’d be a good fit for me because it’s the type of work I do—was doing at my previous job. Unfortunately, she’s not th
at familiar with the New York office so she suggested that I ask you about how it’s run. Could you...fill me in?” She casually picked up my coffee and took a sip, then held onto it, clearly not remembering whose it was.
I smiled into my fist as I cleared my throat. “Yeah, sure, I can tell you about it. Is this like a side job, while you work on building up your music following?”
She looked up, relieved. “Yes. I’m really organized and good with people. And I learn really quickly. I specifically want a job like this so that I can work 9 to 5 and then go home and work on my music writing.”
She pulled a piece of paper out of her bag and passed it to me across the table. I scanned the contents. English Major at NYU. Office Administrator at Lynd & Cannoli Law Firm. A slew of other odd jobs. While I skimmed the rest, I asked, “Why don’t you do something related to the music industry?”
She kept her gaze lowered. “I wanted to work on music right out of school, but paid gigs are rare and it’s hard to make ends meet in New York...especially with student loans from NYU.” She delicately nibbled her donut, then continued. “I lived with my ex for a few years and that helped a bit, but I didn’t want to depend on him. I had to get a job and do my own thing.”
“I see.” I noted that she hadn’t mentioned her parents or family or getting help from any of them. What was that about? But we’d just reached a tentative truce—probably not a good time to ask.
“Okay, I’ll help you.” Her face brightened, her dazzling smile only slightly diminished by the chocolate on her teeth. “I’ll send over some reading materials for you so that you can learn a little bit more about what Stumpstash does. They’ll want to see that you’re passionate about our mission. I’ll also talk to our facilities manager to learn a little bit more about the role. I’ll let you know what she says.” I glanced at my watch, then stood up—it was time to go.
She put her hand on my arm. “Wait. There’s one more thing.” She licked her lips and looked up at me. Damn, she was cute.
“What is it?” My heart beat faster. Did she want an encore?
“Would you...want to go climbing with me sometime?”
I grinned and forgave her completely.
◆◆◆
“Ba. What did you do today?”
“You won’t believe it. Your Ma found a feral hog in our garden.”
“What? Was it big? Did you call the police?”
“No no, it was just a small one. She got the rake and I got the shovel and we chased it out.”
I laughed, imagining my sixty-something-year-old parents chasing a hog around their garden. “How’d it get past the fence?”
“There was a hole in the ground! It was big.”
“I see. Sounds like you had fun.”
“We did. I haven’t seen your Ma so lively since...well, you know.” He sighed.
“I know, Ba. I’m glad the hog paid you a visit.”
He quietly chuckled. “What did you do today?”
“I...had coffee with a pretty girl.”
“Ah, good. Is she Chinese?” Every time my parents asked me that question, I facepalmed. This time was no exception.
“I think so. I haven’t asked, but she looks like it and her last name is Tang.”
“Good, good. What does she do?”
“She writes about music.”
A pause. “That’s not a good job. Is her family rich?”
I nearly facepalmed again, but instead, just rubbed my forehead. “Ba, we’re not dating or anything. I’ll let you know if that changes.” When, I thought.
Chapter 9
-Anna-
True to his word, Ian emailed me some reading materials about Stumpstash that evening. He also called me after dinner to tell me what the facilities manager had said. Based on that conversation, the office admin role seemed perfect for me. It would be a lot of the mindless, menial tasks that I knew I could easily do while scouting out new tracks, but also some strategizing about resources and event planning that might change things up a bit and allow me to use my brain and creativity sometimes.
After reading the materials that he sent, I also found that I didn’t have to pretend to be on board with the mission. Stumpstash supported local communities and helped small businesses get the funds that they needed to get started. I was glad that I wasn’t about to sell my soul to an evil corporation.
Ian let Cassie refer me for the position (“She can have the referral bonus to help her pay for the honeymoon,” he’d reasoned), but he also put in a good word for me with the recruiter to help speed up the process. By the end of the week, I’d passed the phone interview and was scheduled for an onsite interview the following week.
See what good things can happen when you swallow your pride?
And I was excited to try climbing! Maybe if I got the job at Stumpstash, I could get a membership and finally be one of those fit, hip, happy climber people.
Ian and I had agreed to meet at the climbing gym on Saturday morning, so I showed up in my cutest workout tights and a long-sleeved crop-top sweater, with just a light dusting of makeup. I didn’t have the abs of that pretty brunette he climbed with, but I knew I looked good.
When I walked into the gym and peered around, I didn’t see Ian anywhere, so I approached the attendant at the front desk. He had me watch the requisite safety video, then sign a waiver. The video guaranteed that I would fall, and while I wasn’t deathly afraid of heights, I definitely didn’t like the idea of falling.
“Morning, Anna.” A warm, rough hand landed softly on my bare lower back, below where the crop top ended. It was only for a moment, a greeting touch, but awareness of him lingered on my skin.
“Morning, Ian,” I replied, more breathily than I’d intended.
Ian talked to the guy behind the counter and used his guest pass to get me in for free. If he hadn’t, it would have been nearly $40 for a day pass. Only an hour of work at Stumpstash. I shook my head.
The guy behind the counter handed me some shoes and a harness to try on. The shoes were a tiny bit snug, but he said that that was how it was supposed to feel. Then Ian helped me put on the harness. He positioned it on the floor and I placed my feet into the leg loops. He lifted the harness, the outsides of his thumbs caressing my thighs, tracing twin lines of electricity up my legs as he brought the main strap up over my hips and to my waist. He then instructed me on how to tighten the straps.
“How’d the phone interview go?” He already had his own harness on, though he was barefoot. As he led me over to one of the taller walls, I idly noted that he had nice feet. Maybe I did have a foot fetish.
Or maybe, as before, it was just Ian.
My voice was slightly too high-pitched. “Pretty good. I have my onsite next week.”
“Hey, that’s great!” He gave me a high five. “I’m sure you’ll crush it.” He smiled sweetly, making my heart do a little dance.
I glanced around as he led me through to the back of the gym. The air was dry and cold, and slightly hazy with chalk dust, and I happily noted the minor chords and deep crooning of the neo-soul music that played throughout the gym. I’d seen the area by the entrance before, with walls that were maybe 10 - 15 feet in height, all covered in a multitude of holds (and people!) of different shapes, sizes, and colors. But the rest of the gym was new.
The middle of the gym was filled with benches, weights, cages and other workout equipment, and in the corner, a young, miserable-looking man trudged up a stairmaster with what looked like a very heavy pack on his back. As we approached the rear of the building, I had to tilt my head back to look at the walls, which had grown to maybe 50 feet or so tall. I’d only ever seen the shorter walls in the front, never these taller walls, and I gulped at the thought of climbing that high.
“So we’re going to do top roping today,” he explained, stopping in front of one of the taller walls. “I think it’s more beginner-friendly than bouldering.” He explained the difference between top roping and bouldering. I realized that boul
dering—climbing shorter, harder routes, without any protective equipment—was what he’d been doing the other day. Top roping involved climbing much longer routes, but with the protection of a harness and rope. It also usually required a partner, someone to belay (or manage rope tension for) the climber as they climbed.
He scanned the wall and selected what I hoped was an easy route. “We’ll tie in here.” He grabbed one end of a dangling rope that had been anchored by its midpoint at the top of the wall. The other end held a belay device and a carabiner, which he clipped onto his own harness. He stood directly in front of me, tying the necessary knots to keep me secure. I could feel each tug and twist throughout the harness...below my ass...between my legs...and I could still smell his familiar scent. I watched his nimble fingers work, but was too distracted to remember anything useful.
When he was done with me, he said, “Alright, any questions? If not, just get on the wall and try to use only the red holds.”
I ran my gaze up the length of the route. It looked even taller up close. I glanced nervously at Ian, then quickly swallowed my fear. I wasn’t going to be scared in front of him.
I guess I hadn’t swallowed well enough, because he gave me a reassuring smile and a pat on the arm. “I won’t let you fall. You should go partway up the wall and let go, just to see how safe it is. And I’ll give you a lot of tension so that you can feel the harness keeping you safe.”
“I’m not scared,” I said. I took a deep breath, grasped the start holds, and began climbing. As I ascended the wall, I noticed that the rope in front of me never felt loose. With each step I took, Ian, as my belayer, took out the slack from the rope below. Relieved, I focused on what was above me and not below, and the first ten feet were surprisingly easy. I got this.
“Stop,” said Ian. “Try falling from there.”
I stopped climbing and looked below me and oh shit I don’t got this. It wasn’t very far, but I didn’t want to let go. Letting go was against every instinct in my body, so my arms tensed, elbows bent to hold me close to the wall. My hands felt slippery and tired.