Ex-Con Times Two

by Jay S. Wilder

Her lips form a little “oh” and I wonder what she’s thinking.

  “I know, I know. He’s a newbie. Trust me, I’m not taking it personally,” I say. In reality, his critique of me, especially the mouthy part, was still grating on a nerve in the back of my mind, but I was trying to ignore it as best as I could. I’m just happy I got the job is what I keep telling myself. Besides, if what Kelly told me was true, he wouldn’t be around long enough for me to prove his suspicions wrong anyways, so why stress about it?

  “Glad to hear it,” Kelly replies.

  “I feel like you know my story, what about you?” I ask. “How long have you been at Trendsetter?”

  Kelly laughs nervously. “Long enough that it’s embarrassing to give a number. I wouldn’t want to give away my age,” she says.

  I wait, thinking she is kidding, but that’s all she has to say about it. I study her as she fishes in her purse for something. If I were to guess, I would say she is in her late thirties, but her answer makes me think it might be closer to early forties in reality. I had spent enough time with my mother and her friends to spot plastic surgery—even really good work—and it was safe to say that Kelly had indulged in a few nip tucks over the years to preserve her youth. Her hair was not naturally blonde, but looked flawless with just the right blend of colors. Her lips were superficially plumped, but not to an overly obvious degree. Her skin was blemish free and tight, probably thanks to Botox or something in that family. And I would put money on the table if I had to bet that her breasts were fake. Again, understated, but enough to give her petite frame a boost.

  “I wouldn’t say I know your story. I only know who your parents are and where you went to school. What about now? Boyfriend? Girlfriend? Pets?” Kelly asks, effortlessly shifting the conversation away from herself.

  “Well, sometimes it seems like those two things are my entire life. I just got out of school and for the past four years it’s really been the only thing I could think about or focus on. No boyfriend. No pets. I guess, in some way, the start of my life is now. I just moved into a new apartment and that’s been a lot of fun. I’ve been doing some light remodeling.” I try to scrape up something else to add, feeling like the picture I painted was so bland it was painful to look at.

  It was hard living in the shadow of my parents who were each so vibrant and full of life. I often found myself boring in comparison. Now, with my new job in New York with a huge fashion publisher, things were starting to look up.

  Like way, way up.

  The waitress appears and serves us our lunches. I thank her, making a mental note to tip well.

  Kelly digs into her bland-looking garden salad as though it’s a juicy steak. I stare down at my burger, feeling a little self-conscious about my choice. Apparently fashion editors don’t eat burgers. They eat salad. Mental note made.

  Kelly and I chat through the meal, comparing notes on life in the city, the behind the scenes of the fashion industry and life at Trendsetter, and she tells me all about her cat, Whiskey. We laugh and talk for well over an hour. I marvel again at how lucky I was to bump into Kelly in the elevator on the day of my interview.

  Half an hour later, Kelly deposits me back at my office, but before she can scurry back to wherever she needs to be, we are interrupted by none other than Adam himself.

  Luckily for us, we weren’t talking about him at the time.

  “Afternoon ladies,” he says with a smile at both of us. “Anna, I was wondering if we could have a word.”

  Kelly glances between me and Adam and then bows out, hustling down the hall without so much as a backward glance.

  My heart races as I invite Adam into my office—not entirely sure two people can even fit—and take my seat at my desk. “How can I help?”

  Adam sidesteps to be able to close the door and then sits in the chair across from me. “I feel like we got off on the wrong foot, Anna,” he says, leaning into my desk as though sharing a secret.

  His cologne quickly permeates the room and my body seems to react to him on instinct. He really is too damn good-looking, and right now he’s too close—way too close to allow my mind to think straight.

  “It’s all good. I understand you’re under a lot of pressure,” I answer.

  “Mmmm. That’s true. Look, I want to make it up to you. What would you say to going out for a drink?”

  Alarm bells start firing in my head. “Uhh, I—I don’t think that would be a good idea. For me, I mean. Not for you. You can obviously do what—” I let my sentence break off before I further embarrass myself.

  Adam smiles. “Oh, no, not like that. It’s a work thing and I need someone to go with me.”

  Relief floods in, but I also detect a hint of disappointment in his voice as he corrects me.

  “Oh!” I laugh nervously. “Right. Well then, yes, sure. Of course.”

  “Great. I’ll email you the details.”

  I nod and he sweeps out of my office as gracefully as possible given the sardine-can size of my office.

  I spend the remainder of the afternoon and early evening tackling my to-do list, and in between doing that it seems that my mind is only up for one task. Thinking—actually, make that obsessing—about Adam. Ever since his impromptu appearance and invite, I haven’t been able to think about much else. He emailed me the details as promised. It was an after work event for the following day.

  By the time I power off my computer and leave for the evening, I checked off most of the items, and I knew which dress to wear to work that could easily be styled to make the day-to-night switch with a few key pieces that would all fit in my Chanel handbag.

  I feel lazy as I leave the office, so I skip the gym and hit up a local Chinese place. I moved into my apartment a week before, so I was able to scope out the local eateries in the name of research when in reality, it was because I didn’t bother to unpack my pots and pans yet.

  Hands now full with my dinner bag and purse, I start to open my front door when a blonde woman catches the corner of my eye.

  “Oh my God! Kelly?” I exclaim.

  The blonde whips around, and sure enough, it’s her. “Anna! Hi. What are you doing here?”

  “I live here.” I laugh at the look of shock on her face. “Apparently we’re neighbors!”

  Kelly looks from me to my front door, and then back again. “Wow. I uh—can’t believe we’ve never seen each other here before. How odd!”

  “I know! This is crazy. I just moved in, so I guess it makes sense.”

  “True I guess. Isn’t this place, kind of expensive?” Kelly asks, lowering her voice. “Oh my God, that’s so rude. I’m sorry.” She covers her mouth, as though the forwardness of her question shocked her.

  I wave her off and smile. “Oh, I really don’t know. My parents lived here a few years ago and kept it when they moved out to Long Island. They knew I wanted to live in the city and insisted that I stay here in a building with a doorman.” I roll my eyes and Kelly offers a fleeting smile. “Hey, I just got Chinese. As usual, I ordered way too much. Want to come in and share?” I hold up the white plastic bag as proof.

  Kelly looks at her door and then back at me. “Sure, that sounds nice. Let me change into something more comfortable and I’ll be right over.”

  “Great!” I go inside and hurry to get plates set out and force myself to ignore the mountain of boxes that cover most of the living space floors at the moment.

  Kelly knocks a few minutes later and comes inside with a bottle of wine. “Your first housewarming gift?”

  “Aww. Thanks, Kelly! That’s really sweet. Sorry about the mess.”

  We sit down to eat at the small bistro-style table in the nook off the kitchen.

  “So, I’m dying to ask. What did Adam want?” She asks, before dividing an egg roll in half. I watch as she scoops out the filling and eats it without sauce. “After lunch, I mean.”

  “Oh that?” I say, suddenly unsure of how much to say. After all, Kelly had been the one to warn me about Adam’s wom
anizing ways in the first place. What would she think if she knew I was going on some kind of workplace date with him? I decide to lie. “He just wanted to see how I was fitting in, I guess. The whole thing was kind of weird.”

  Kelly nods. Her face is unreadable. “That’s good. Just, be careful, Anna.”

  “Totally,” I reply, dunking my own egg roll in the sticky sweet sauce.

  I quickly change the topic to tell Kelly about some cute guy I met at the gym a few days back. I’m doing my best to allay her fears about Adam and me. It’s probably not the best sign that I’m already lying to a co-worker on the first day, but Kelly is more like a friend now. I don’t want her to worry. Besides, it could all be in my head anyways. Adam certainly didn’t seem interested in me, so I have no real proof that he intended anything untoward, other than Kelly’s claim that she caught him checking me out.

  I’m sure it will all be fine. I change the topic to ask about Kelly’s recommendations on interior design and hit a sweet spot of conversation that carries us through the rest of dinner with no other hiccups.

  Chapter 8

  Adam

  After work, I meet my buddy Kyle at a sports bar to watch a game and have a couple pints. He straight up tells me I’m playing with fire when I recap the situation for him.

  He’s right, but I quickly come up with about ten reasons why it’s going to be all right.

  “Besides, dude, you don’t understand. She’s got this fire, this energy. I don’t know. I’m not explaining it right,” I stumble over my words.

  This is so not like me.

  Fuck.

  I try to downplay it on account of the beer, but Kyle—a mid-level security analysis manager at some tech firm—has been my friend long enough to know I can hold my liquor better than most.

  “I get it, Adam. She’s hot, certifiably bangable, but you work in a woman’s magazine. There are literal models wandering your office on an hourly basis!”

  I cock a half smile at him. “You’re jealous.”

  “Hell yes, I’m jealous. You know what my view looks like at work? I get to stare at Lloyd. He’s the constantly smelly guy who works in the cube next to my office. So really Adam, spare me,” Kyle says, laughing.

  “It’s not my fault you picked a male dominated field. You want me to find you a job at Trendsetter?”

  “Yeah, sure,” he jokes.

  “All I’m saying dude, is be careful. This is one thing you really can’t afford to screw this up.”

  “I know. One and a half billion.” I take another chug of the pint in my hand and tune into the game on the giant TV behind the bar.

  I know Kyle is right. There are millions of women in this city, most of whom I haven’t fucked yet. There’s no reason to mess with Anna, and yet, I still find myself wanting her.

  Sure, it can be risky, but then again, playing with fire is technically fine—it’s getting burnt that hurts. As usual, I have no intention of getting burnt.

  “Thank God it’s Friday,” I groan to myself as I stumble out of bed the next morning. The alarm clock started beeping at six thirty, and after three go-rounds with the snooze button, I’m finally getting up and starting the day.

  This waking up early in the morning shit needs to stop. Seriously, how do people do this day in and day out for decades?

  I shudder at the thought.

  By the time I get into the shower, my mind is completely over the early wakeup and stuck on the thought of taking Anna out on a date, which I conveniently label as a work-related outing that just so happens to be outside the office and outside of business hours.

  Thinking about what she might be wearing—and what she might have on underneath that—gets me off with minimal effort under the hot spray of water.

  See, now that’s the kind of thing that’s going to get you in trouble, I chide myself as I go about the rest of my morning routine.

  The day turns out to be a colossal waste of time. My father in his infinite wisdom, lines up a series of presentations for me to sit through. Something like a crash course in how to run the company. CEO 101 or something. He has business analysts, accountants, and managerial specialists parading through my office for nine straight hours.

  By the time the clock hits six, my brain is beyond resuscitation.

  That is, until Anna appears in my doorway. Except for in my vivid fantasies, I haven’t seen her since yesterday afternoon. Damn, she looks even more tempting than I remember.

  Something about forbidden fruit—it’s just too sweet to deny.

  “Am I early?” Anna asks, glancing at the white gold watch on her wrist. She’s styled to perfection in a turquoise colored wrap dress that compliments her naturally tanned skin—probably from basketball or something. It’s a sleeveless number that shows off her toned arms with every move she makes. There is a chunky silver belt around her slim waist that only makes me stare at her perfectly flared hips even more. The top of the dress isn’t nearly low cut enough, but I can still see a hint of cleavage. She completes her look with sky high nude pumps and a small beaded clutch that she grips in one slender fingered hand.

  “Right on time,” I answer. I shrug my jacket back on over my black dress shirt and saunter across the floor to join her. “My driver should already be waiting for us out front.”

  She nods and I offer her my arm which she takes, silently nodding her thanks.

  “So, where are we going again?” Anna asks once we are tucked inside the backseat of the black town car.

  “It’s a club opening. A re-launch, if you want to be really specific. I was invited months ago, and had declined, but since joining Trendsetter I figured I would go and turn it into a PR opportunity. I may not have a fancy degree, but I know enough to see the magazine is struggling in the coveted 18-32 age demographic. Those are the buyers in this city, and anyone in that age range who has any sway will be at the party tonight.”

  “Impressive,” Anna replies, flashing me a killer smile.

  “I know. Not just a handsome face.” I throw her a wink.

  She laughs. “So, you invited me because you want social media coverage. Makes sense.”

  “Actually, I invited you because I wanted to see what you’re like outside the office. You’re young, Anna. You should be free to have a little fun sometimes. If you ask me, you’ve spent way too much of your twenties head first in a pile of textbooks. It’s not natural.”

  She laughs. “Wow. That’s flattering. You know, you keep reminding me how young I am, but I have to remind you that you’re only two years older than me.”

  “Fair enough. The difference is that I’m out here, you know, living life.”

  “Mmmm. Is that what you call it?” She shifts her gaze out the window.

  “What is that supposed to mean?”

  Her eyes snap back to mine, sparkling in the low lighting of the interior of the car. “I know that not everything written about you is true, but I’d be willing to bet that a good twenty five to thirty percent is in fact reality. Or at least your version of it. So if that’s the case it means that according to you, living life means random hookups, parties, heavy libation and general bad behavior. You’ll have to excuse me if I don’t seem too interested in your worldview and philosophies on how I should spend my twenties.”

  The same irritation and anger from Anna’s interview is bubbling up inside me at her indictment. “You think you got me all figured out just because some trashy magazine tells you who they think I am?”

  The car glides to a stop outside of the club. The music is pouring out into the street and momentarily distracts both of us from the heated exchange we just shared. My pulse is racing in time with the loud bass and I know I need to get it together.

  Screw her. Who cares what she thinks?

  The problem is that it doesn’t work like it normally would, because somehow, I find that I actually do care what she thinks.

  Doug, my driver, circles the car and opens the door for Anna. She gives me a backward glance
before accepting Doug’s gloved hand and letting him help her from the vehicle. I shake my head and follow her out onto the sidewalk.

  As soon as my shoes hit the sidewalk there is a sea of flashing lights and voices calling over the roar of the crowd to get my attention.

  “Adam! Adam, over here!” Reporters and paparazzi call from every angle.

  Ahead of me, Anna seems frozen in place. I take two large steps and catch up to her. She says something but I can’t hear her words over the crowd. I wrap a protective arm around her shoulder and lead her inside the club, straight past the bouncer and security team who recognize me without ID.

  Inside the club is a sea of tranquility by comparison, although the music is still bumping. A swarm of people are mobbed together on the dance floor, their bodies intertwined with heat, passion, and raw sexual energy.

  A cocktail waitress with tits so big I don’t know how she stays upright, immediately leads us to the roped off VIP section when I give her my name. The VIP area is much quieter than the main part of the club. I look around and see sound-blocking panels hung above the section.

  I settle onto one of the booths and wait for Anna to join me.

  “I’m going to go get some shots,” she announces.

  “Allow me,” I say, tugging her wrist so she sits down. “I need a vodka on the rocks anyways.”

  Anna stares at me for a moment and then rolls her eyes. She holds up her cell. “I meant pictures. You know, for Trendsetter.”

  “Right.” I laugh. “I know. I was just testing you.”

  She looks less than convinced. “I’ll be back in a little while.”

  I nod and flag down a scantily clad cocktail waitress and order my drink. She returns with my drink in record time. I smile in appreciation as I slide a large tip across the table to her. As I sip on the drink, I scan the room until my eyes land on Anna. She is busy climbing over a chair—as much as her dress will allow—and weaving around the outskirts of the crowd, snapping pictures like a high fashion paparazzi on her phone.