by E. L. Todd
He sighed, clearly annoyed. “Can you at least tell me why?”
I shook my head and walked away, disappearing in the back. When I grabbed my purse and clocked out, I waited a few minutes before I left. I wasn’t sure why this guy was so persistent. There was nothing particularly spectacular about me. I assumed it was just because I said no. I wondered if he would have even called if I gave him my number to begin with. He was like a child.
I tightened my jacket around my body then left out the back entrance. I hardly ever did that because the alley was never a safe place. I always stayed in lit areas, especially at night, but I really needed to get away from Kyle. He said he wouldn’t back down and I was starting to believe him. I walked into the alley and pulled my hood over my face. A homeless man was sitting with this shopping cart full of plastic bottles. He stared at me as I walked by, looking at me with a hungry expression. My hand was near my tazer so I could grab it within a second. I watched him in my peripheral vision until I made it to the sidewalk under the street lamp.
“Hey,” someone said close to my ear.
I grabbed my tazer and jabbed it in his ribs, turning the electricity on.
“Fuck!” He stepped back and stumbled to the ground.
My eyes widened when I saw Kyle.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” he snapped, rubbing his side.
“Well you shouldn’t jump out at me like that,” I said as I extended my hand and helped him to his feet.
“You shouldn’t walk down a dark alley like that.”
“I’m trying to get away from you! If I didn’t have to run from you, I wouldn’t have been forced to use the back entrance.”
He eyed the tazer warily. “Are you going to put that away?”
“No.”
“Are you going to shock me again?”
“If you give me a reason to, I will.”
“I’m not going to hurt you,” he said. “Calm down, Layla.”
“Then leave me alone.”
He sighed. “I’m just trying to ask you out. I’m not a crazy rapist or a murderer.”
“You’re acting like both of those things.”
He rubbed his stomach again and shook his head. “I’m sorry if I freaked you out, but I can assure you, rape and murder aren’t my style.”
“But stalking is.”
“I’m sorry, okay?”
I stared at him for a moment before I returned the tazer to my purse.
He breathed a sigh of relief then returned his hands to his pockets. “That’s better.”
“Well, good night.”
“Wait. Are you really never going to be working here again?”
“Yep,” I said. I didn’t have another job, but I desperately needed to quit. Bartending wasn’t for me.
“Then how will I see you again?”
“That’s the point. You won’t.”
He ran his fingers through his hair then pulled out a pen and dug out an old receipt. He scribbled his number on it then extended it to me. “Here it goes. I graduated from UC Berkeley with a master’s in business administration. I work for a company as a department manager, overseeing all the major components. It’s good money and it’s good hours. While I’m proud of my job, it isn’t my passion. My greatest dream is to be a professional piano player. I’ve been playing clubs, piano bars, and other places, but I do it more as a hobby than anything else. I’ve lived in the city for most of my life and I couldn’t imagine living anywhere else. In my spare time, I enjoy hanging out with my friends, hitting the gym, and spending time with my family.”
I glanced at the card but didn’t take it.
“That’s my biography. I don’t have any misdemeanors on my record or anything weird.” He stepped forward and held the card out to me. “Please take it. Even if you don’t call me, just take it.”
I rolled my eyes. “I’m not going to call you.”
He grabbed my hand and put the receipt in my palm. “Just think about it. Now that I can’t stalk you anymore, this is my last hope.” He stared at me for a long moment, his blue eyes sparking in the light. Kyle glanced at the ground below his feet then stepped back. “It was nice meeting you, Layla.” He turned around then walked the opposite way up the street, his back to me. I watched him walk away, blending with the crowd of people. Then I turned and headed to my apartment a few blocks away.
When I got home, I tossed his number on the counter then worked on my resume. I had my interview tomorrow and everything had to be perfect. I was ready for a career in writing, something that was actually applicable to my major. There was an opening at a fashion magazine as a receptionist that did a few copy editing assignments and I desperately wanted it. I felt like I wasn’t respected as a bartender. When I told people what I did to pay the bills, I felt the judgment fall upon me. The money was good, but it definitely wasn’t worth the headache it caused me every day.
After everything was prepared for the next day, I got ready for bed then fell asleep immediately.
3
When I got ready the next morning, I spent more time than usual on my hair and makeup. Most of the time, I just skipped it because it was just a hassle, but I wanted to look nice today so I went the extra mile. Janet let me borrow her pencil skirt and blouse since I didn’t want to spend the money on a new one.
I left the apartment then took a cab to the building. Normally I would just walk, but I didn’t want to torture my feet in the heels I wore. When I saw the building, I started to get nervous. After a moment of fear, I composed myself. I had to be confident and calm. I’m sure my employer would notice my unease immediately and misconstrue it as weakness. I had to get this job. I refused not to. It was finally an outlet for me to start a career, one that I really wanted. I was done with my old life, working as a bartender and partying with my friends. Those days were long behind me.
After I left the cab, I walked into the building and took the elevator to the floor where Satin Magazine was held. I glanced at the time on my phone and was relieved to see that I was fifteen minutes early. When the doors opened, I walked inside and saw the pristine while walls. Doors that were made of pure glass separated the different rooms. Paintings and frames on the wall gave the room color. Their highlight issues were plastered everywhere to be seen. Women in heels walked by, carrying papers or coffee down the hallway. I approached the front desk.
With a smile I said, “Hello, I’m here for an interview.”
“Which interview?” the anorexic girl said without looking at me. When I glanced at her computer, I saw that she was playing solitaire.
“The receptionist position,” I said nicely, trying to hide my annoyance. I was used to speaking my mind working at the bar and it was hard to swallow my tongue. Old habits die hard.
“Which one?” she said with a sigh. She clicked her mouse while she looked through the deck of cards, trying to find something to use. I saw at least three cards that could help her win the game, but I decided to keep it to myself. “For the copy-editing position.”
“Oh. Take a seat.”
I smiled. “Thank you.” I turned around and walked to a chair. Now that my back was facing the desk, I rolled her eyes exaggeratedly. I hoped the rest of my coworkers wouldn’t be this bad. But it was better than working with a bunch of drunks and alcoholics, that was for sure.
I sat quietly, watching the atmosphere of the company. People walked through the hallways, chatting to one another. I noticed that most of them were women. In fact, none of them were men. I was disappointed with the revelation. I didn’t have a problem with women, but I always preferred men. Women could be catty and confrontational. I stayed out of the drama as much as possible, and men hated arguments as much as I did. We just clicked better.
The girl behind the desk finally looked at me. “He’ll see you now.”
I stood up and waited for her to direct me.
She rolled her eyes and pointed to the left. There was a hallway of doors. I wasn’t sure where she
wanted me to go. “Which one?” I asked nicely.
“Mr. Benedict’s office.” She turned back to her computer, not bothering to get up.
I sighed and marched to the door. When I saw his name on the front, I knocked.
“Come in.”
I walked inside then dropped my purse on the ground. My heart hammered in my chest and the heat flushed through my body. I couldn’t believe this was happening to me. It was like the universe hated me. No, it more than hated me. It just wanted to make my life miserable. “Kyle?”
He stood up then fixed his tie. “Wow. What a surprise.”
I stood there, stunned.
Kyle smiled happily, his hands moving into the pockets of his pants. He wore a dark blue suit, the jacket fitting his torso perfectly. The color highlighted the color of his eyes, making them even brighter than normal. His dark hair was combed and styled, looking better than it did last night. His striped tie had yellow and purple, giving his outfit some color.
I stared at him, unsure what to say. No matter how bad the odds were, I always played the game. But in this case, there was no way he would hire me. I tazed him the night before, called him cocky, and turned him down at least ten times. This was a futile effort. I really wanted this job—needed this job—but it wasn’t going to happen. I’m going to be a bartender until I’m old and wrinkly.
He extended his hand toward the seat. “Please sit down, Ms. Gallagher.”
I sighed then walked into the room, taking my seat with elegance and poise. I didn’t bother shaking his hand or making small talk. It was obviously unnecessary. “So you knew I was coming the whole time?”
“Actually, no. I don’t usually pay attention to names, just qualifications. Believe me, this is a surprise for me as well.” He rested his arms on the desk, his back straight and his shoulders square. Kyle looked much different than he did in the bar. He was calm, collected, and professional. “So, I see that you went to San Francisco State University. That’s a long way from New York.”
“Are we really going to do this?” I said.
“What?” he asked, leaning back.
“The interview.”
“Why wouldn’t we?” he asked.
“We both know you aren’t going to hire me.”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
I sighed. “Because I tazed you last night, insulted you a least a hundred times, rejected you.”
He chuckled. “While those are events I’ll never forget, they have no relevance in this room. Don’t worry about it. But if you do want this job, you’ll have to sleep with me.”
I glared at him.
“That was a joke,” he said quickly.
I breathed a sigh of relief.
He smiled. “So let’s begin. Why are you living in New York City?”
I kept my shoulders back and looked him in the eye. “I’ve always wanted to live here and work for a major fashion or writing magazine.”
He nodded. “Then why are you a bartender?”
“That isn’t on my resume.”
“Just answer the question.”
I didn’t like the command in his voice. It was authoritative and rude. I remained silent.
He caught the expression. “Please answer the question.”
“That’s better,” I said. “I needed a job. I need to pay rent and eat. Unlike most of the girls in this office, I can’t survive on saltine crackers and water.”
He chuckled. “I noticed that your degree is in creative writing but you have a lot of classes in editorial studies.”
I nodded. “That’s correct.”
“And your GPA was admirable.”
I shrugged. I thought that was debatable.
“Which brings me to my next question; why are you applying for this job?”
“Excuse me?”
“There’s a copy editing position in my department. Why didn’t you apply for that?”
“I didn’t think I was qualified.”
“I do.”
“Well, it’s too late now.”
“I don’t think so. I’m the hiring manager for both positions. Would you like to be considered for the position as well?”
I definitely would. It was a better job with better pay. “Yes.”
He nodded. “I’ll keep that in mind. So tell me about your work ethic.”
“I always do my job and do it well. I work well with others and—”
He laughed. “You work well with others? When I met you, you slammed a man’s head into a counter.”
“He was harassing me,” I argued.
Kyle shook his head. “You resolve situations in very odd ways.”
“As long as people don’t harass me, I get along with everyone just fine,” I said.
“And why should I consider for you for the job?”
“I’m desperate,” I said honestly.
“What does that mean?” he asked, looking me in the eye.
“When I came to city, I looked for jobs in my field but couldn’t find anything. I settled for a bartending job and ended up staying there for years, abandoning my dream. But I’m fed up with that life and I’m desperate to change it. I’ll get coffee, open letters, answer phones, even be a janitor just to land a job somewhat related to what I want to pursue. I can’t be a bartender anymore. I just can’t. I’ll do anything to keep my job and do it to the best of my ability because I not only want it, but I need it.”
He nodded, still looking at me. He leaned forward then rubbed his chin. For the first time, I noticed the subtle hair on his face. His dark hair contrasted well against his light features. He was a handsome man. I understood why he was so surprised that I turned him down. It probably didn’t happen very often.
“Thank you for your honesty,” he said.
I nodded, unsure what to say.
“I’ll consider you for the position.” He stood up then approached my chair. Now that I was closer to him, I smelled the faint scent of his cologne. I didn’t know much about fashion, but I knew his suit was expensive. Even through the fabric, I could see the lines of his arms and his chest. Even in my heels, he towered over me, at least a foot taller.
I stood up and extended my hand to shake his. He took it with a firm grip, looking me in the eye. When he released his hand he returned it to his pocket. “So, do you have plans tonight?”
I shook my head. “You better be kidding me.”
He smiled. “If you say no, I won’t pester you about it.”
“But if I do, you won’t hire me, right?”
Kyle rubbed his chin. “I’m not sure what I did to make you think I’m a huge asshole, but no, it won’t negatively impact my decision. But I can’t lie and say it wouldn’t help if we did go on a date.” He smiled at me then winked.
“No, thank you,” I said calmly. I could tell by the defeated look in his eyes that he was irritated with the response. But he didn’t pressure me or ask me again like he said he would. “I have to ask something. If you did hire me, would you continue to pester me to go out with you?”
“That’s called sexual harassment,” Kyle said. “And we take that very seriously. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable with my behavior. I won’t ask you again.”
I nodded. “Thank you.”
“Have a good day.”
“You too.” I walked out the door then left his office. When I passed the girl at the front desk, I wanted to throw a gum wrapper at her head, but I kept it back. I left the building then went back to my apartment, kicking off my heels that were killing my feet. I had a few messages from Janet, saying they were going out to dinner tonight. With nothing to do, I said I would meet up with them. After the past few days I had, I desperately needed to relax.
4
“Only shit like that happens to you,” Janet said as she shook her head. She touched the golden bracelet on her arm, fidgeting with it. Her dark skin contrasted beautifully against the jewelry. I was always jealous of her complexion. Janet tucked a strand of dark hair beh
ind her ear.
“I know,” I said with a sigh. “I know.”
Cassie smiled, a laugh escaping her lips. “At least he wasn’t a jerk about it. Any other guy would have given you hell.” She was a direct contrast to Janet, with her blonde hair, green eyes, and red lips. Her strands were curled in large ringlets and her hair flowed around her shoulders. Her perfect body, gorgeous hair, and beautiful personality always made me a little envious. She was just perfect, flawless. The fact she was humble about it made me like her even more. She and I just clicked the day we met.
“Or forced you to sleep with him,” Janet said, looking around the small restaurant. It was a bar and grill. It was always packed with people, even if it was just a weekday. They had the best burgers and fries. I ate like a hound and I didn’t care what people thought. I went to the gym every morning to avoid the inevitable weight gain, but I couldn’t give up all the junk food I ate.
I shook my head. “If he threatened me like that, I would have kicked him in the balls on my way out.”
Cassie laughed. “Only you would do that.”
“Working in a bar for years will do that to you,” I said.
“You really aren’t going back?” Janet asked, pushing her salad away.
“No. I’m done with being a bartender,” I answered.
Cassie eyed me. “Don’t you have pay rent?”
“I have money saved,” I said while I wiped my fingers with a napkin. “And I need that fear.”
“Fear?” Janet asked, her hand returning to her bracelet.
I nodded. “That fear that drives you to find what you really want. Since I have to worry about food and water, I know I’ll bust my ass for money.”
Cassie chuckled. “That makes sense. So do you think you’ll get the job?”
“No,” I said with a laugh. “In fact, I know I won’t get it.”
“What a wonderful attitude,” Janet said with a smile.
“I tazed the guy in the stomach,” I said as I looked at them. “He would be out of his mind to hire me.”