by C. L. Donley
“Sounds like you have big plans for this place.”
“I do. I did. Honestly, this whole unlimited budget situation is messing with my mind.”
“I could limit it. If you think that would help you.”
“No, don’t. It’s a new challenge. A unique one.”
“Listen, Cynthia…” Ben shakily begins, “I thought about it, and I’ve been meaning to apologize. About my behavior over the phone the other night.”
“Don’t mention it.”
“It was… unprofessional, to put it mildly. Reckless. You could probably have me plastered all over the tabloids for what I said to you.”
“I would never do that. We’ve got history. It’s understandable.”
“Well, I want you to know, from here on out, I’ll be 100% professional. It took me a minute to adjust. To seeing you again.”
Cynthia’s heartbeat was racing as she asked, “You’re all adjusted now?”
“Honestly, no. But that shouldn’t be your problem.”
This is gonna be a looong eight weeks, Cynthia thinks. But she’s relieved, somehow, to know that it was going to be tough for him too.
Should she make it tougher?
Yes. Yes, she should. Only one of them has a fiancée. Serves him right.
Cynthia shrugs, “As I said, don’t mention it, Mr. Dvorak. Besides, I appreciated the fap material.”
Ben raises an eyebrow, not quite believing his ears.
“What?”
“Hm?” Cynthia responds. A grin blooms on her face.
Ben is now locked behind his 100% professional promise. He still wears a stunned look on his face as he glares at her with resentment, as if she’s taken the only life raft off a deserted island. Cynthia laughs, finding his misery amusing. It’s probably wrong how much better it makes her feel.
“See? My sense of humor is still intact. Let me show you the upstairs,” Cynthia says while Ben is still speechless.
Cynthia leads him back inside to a narrow staircase that leads to a spacious second floor with three bedrooms, a bathroom, and a parlor space separating them. She bounds up the first few stairs before she turns around, waiting for Ben who’s still on stair number two.
“Sorry, I know this is probably killing your legs.”
“No big deal. I’ll get there.”
“I could have a service elevator, put in, y’know. There’s already a little laundry chute back here.”
“No need. That is, if I decide to sell.”
“Well, that’s something I need to know pretty soon, don’t you think?”
The tour ends in the master bedroom which is very large with a criminally small window.
“I’m no designer, but I’m guessing you’re going to make this window bigger.”
“I’m gonna do more than that. This window is going to be transformed into a balcony.”
“How are you going to manage that?”
“It’s surprisingly easy and cheap. Which usually fills me with special joy, but… with an unlimited budget, it does next to nothing.”
“Welcome to my world.”
“It’s still very cool and will sell this house in a heartbeat.”
“I told you, I don’t know if I’ll be selling or not.” His reply makes Cynthia relinquish an exasperated sigh.
“You obviously know what you’re doing, your vision sounds great.”
“'Sell it,’ ‘don’t sell it’… Ben, if you’re going to hire me, then I need a reason to do this project, a purpose.”
Ben figures she probably wouldn’t appreciate his entirely selfish reasons for buying this house. This meeting alone made it worth spending the money. But in truth, he had no plan for the property, and they both knew it.
“Fine. I’m probably never going to live in Jersey for any reason, so let’s sell it,” he settles.
“Great. That’s going to require a lot less of your time. I’ll need your input on some things since you’re still the client.
“I suppose. Maybe we can have dinner?”
“We?”
“Of course. Esmee would love to meet you.”
Oh, God. Another fiancée.
“I thought she was in Havana?”
“She was. She’s back now. Just for a few days. Our life is a series of… very long layovers.”
“Sounds… exciting. Does she know that you tried to sleep with me in between ‘layovers’?”
“Again, I apologize for that. But if you consider that ‘trying,’ then you definitely need to get out more than you currently are. Starting with dinner.”
“…That isn’t some kind of weird freaky couples code for a threesome is it?”
Ben laughs.
“We don’t bite, I promise. I didn’t mean to spook you.”
“You didn’t spook me.”
“That was a joke, okay? Anyway, I’m not a threesome guy. At all, you know that.”
“I think I recall that conversation,” Cynthia smiles. Ben finally tears is eyes away from her blushing cheeks.
“We’ll coordinate schedules,” he says before she can object. “I look forward to catching up with you. Properly.”
He doesn’t seem to get that she’d rather eat nails than have dinner with him and his fiancée. The very thought of it is tanking her morale. But she won’t be able to avoid the girlfriend, it seems. She never could. It’s just as well. Being alone together is a pile of bad news. Even in this busted up fixer that smells like cat piss, she can sense it. Nevertheless, she musters up a professional, grinning face.
“Likewise,” Cynthia answers stiffly. “I look forward to it.”
6
Ten Years Ago
“Ban ya belly, gyal,” Cynthia’s mother Bev sighed into the darkness, “Ah got bad news.”
“Oh no. On a scale of 1-10?”
“….8.”
“Alright. Hit me.”
Cynthia was so mature. It tore Bev up more than ever having to rely on her daughter now that everything’s gone to shit, now that Winston was gone. Nearly a decade now.
“I didn’t get deh job,” Bev confessed.
“Yuh makin’ joke!” Cynthia answered in an indignant patois. “They made you do all that paperwork and everything!”
“Dey went wit’ someone else.”
“I don’t get it. Your degree was supposed to help. Who has more experience than you??”
“It’s okay. It jus’ means ‘tings get delayed a little bit. If we find a place by October—”
“I’m really doing good at this job, mom.”
“Ah know, ah know.”
“I don’t want to leave. You know the shelters around here are no good.”
“Ah shoulda jus’ had yuh go to school, enuh? Deh shelters fuh older women are decent, enuh. Yuh would at least have a warm place to stay. Food, enuh.”
“School costs money. And I could give a shit about… curriculum right now. Senior year was stressful enough.”
“Yuh too young to be worryin’ about me, Cynti. We’ll figure somet’ing out, I promise.”
After a silent moment, Cynthia began with a sigh.
“…So, there’s this boy. At work.”
“Boy, wha boy?”
“Well… I guess he’s more of a… man. A young man.”
“Is dis ‘young man’ one a’ da stock brokers ya boss warned you about, eh?”
“Virginia’s not my boss, and I don’t think he’s a stockbroker, but yes. In fact, I don’t know what he does.”
“I see. He likes you?”
“Yes.”
“And yuh like him back, awat?”
“I don’t know, I don’t know him very well. But he’s gorgeous. He had cerebral palsy as a kid…or… I guess he still has it… he got ‘dis likkle limp. Likkle hop and drop enuh,” she smiles, glancing in her mom’s direction. Bev gives her an enthusiastic laugh, already shipping this relationship by the sound of it.
“He has this look in his eyes, that’s like a mix of kindness, compa
ssion. Some kind of… pain. And then a little arrogance. A likkle pomposity, enuh. ‘Cause he’s rich? Just feels like I’m gonna die when he looks at me. Oh, and I’m pretty sure he’s the son of the guy that owns the entire building.”
“Oh, gosh. Well, did he ask yuh out?”
“Not yet, but he will.”
“And yuh’fraid yuh might fire de wuk.”
“Among other things.”
Cynthia left it vague for the sake of her mom, who understood. Bev was grateful to have a daughter that wasn’t itching to get into trouble and felt comfortable enough to tell her everything, even if it were on a slight delay. If Cynthia was concerned about a boy, then the boy had to be a pretty big damn deal. From the sound of it, he seemed to be.
“Well… jobs are everywhere, enuh. But a good guy is hard to find. Is he worth losin’ yuh job over?”
“I don’t know.”
“Do yuh know anyt’ing, Dan?”
“Nothing. And I’m not sure, but I think he has a girlfriend.”
Bev smiled. Cynthia’s father Winston was engaged at the time they met. When they first made love it was like making love to the lightning. He sacrificed his entire reputation when he broke off the engagement. But he did it. She respected him for that. He could’ve gone through with it, could’ve kept Bev on the side. Lord knows she was smitten enough to have gone right along. But then, she wouldn’t have had Cynthia.
“Well, yuh grown now, Cynt’ia, ent? A smart one, enuh. Focused. Yuh not easily fooled. Even as a baby, enuh. Yuh don’t need my advice, not dat I have any t’give. Except… follow yuh heart.”
Cynthia gave a long sigh that signaled to her mother that she would likely be up for a while. Thinking. Bev remembered the feeling. Like seeing a tidal wave from a distance and only gathering more momentum.
Love. Bev could only be there for her when it came. And hope that she didn’t get capsized.
* * *
“Cynthia gave me an extra banana, guys,” Dev said with two raised eyebrows of innuendo.
“We seriously need a day off. We’re all fantasizing about the same chick like we’re in a hippie commune,” Evan said.
“Cynthia’s a 10 in the real world. I’ve got evidence.”
“What evidence?”
Dev pulled out his super secret laptop and opened up MySpace, finding Cynthia’s profile.
“You’re friends with her on MySpace?”
“No, but her profile is public.”
“Dude, you’re disgusting,” Ben shook his head.
“What? It gets boring around here. If I’m gonna look busy, I need to be looking at something interesting.”
“Dev, you better not be jacking off to any of this.”
“Relax, Ben, no one’s beating off to your girlfriend,” Evan rolled his eyes.
“Speak for yourself,” Dev smirked.
“She’s not my girlfriend, obviously.”
“Sure. Because no one’s ever had a fiancée and a girlfriend before.”
“Oh shit, I found a swimsuit pic.”
“I don’t wanna see,” Ben replied.
“Wanna be surprised?” Evan ribbed him.
Ben didn’t like Evan’s tone. Ever since he made her laugh for that one moment in history, he’d been acting like he actually had a chance with her— and didn’t want it. Now he was further pretending like he wouldn’t care if others had a chance.
“Dude, why are you still on MySpace anyways? Everyone’s on Webster now.”
“I’m leaving,” Ben announced.
“Yeah right, we have a presentation due in two hours,” Dev furrowed his brow.
“Yeah, well, my brain’s fuckin fried and I need a cigarette,” Ben said, making his way out the door.
“Dude, forget him. It’s not like Ben can get fired anyway,” Evan muttered under his breath.
“Yeah Evan, and I’m still running circles around you, how do you explain it?” Ben retorted on his way out, having heard his comment anyway.
Evan just scoffed as Ben made his way outside, to the service entrance.
Ben lit his long menthol cigarette, extra annoyed, mostly at himself for letting Evan’s comments get to him. Even now, he guessed that they were talking about the “over-priveleged golden boy” while he was gone. “Crippled fuck,” he was probably saying. Ben took another long drag, shaking his head. Between his disabilities and his family, he was being underestimated all the time. He was either being told things would be impossible for him, or unfairly easy. It was maddening. He needed this two or three minutes of chit chat today with Cynthia like nobody’s business.
It took a few weeks to catch on, but eventually Ben came to learn the routine of Cynthia’s breaks.
He’d first caught her walking outside during his afternoon break nearly two months ago. It jarred him, to see Cynthia on her own time. He couldn’t believe it the first time he saw her hair underneath that chef’s hat. At the time, it was a dyed blonde color. He’d curiously watched her, to see what she would do.
He figured out she got two fifteen minute breaks, but he couldn’t figure out what she was doing with her 30-minute lunch.
Then one day he saw her being picked up by someone, either her mother or sister or… some relative. Carrying a bag full of takeout trays, presumably full of food.
So that’s what she was doing with her lunches.
Surely they weren’t charging her for taking extra food they were just going to throw away. He thought about asking about it, but it would only rock the boat in some unintended way. The way he got his favorite nanny fired by telling his mom that she sometimes took naps on the couch while he watched tv.
This day she was waiting out back near the dumpsters, likely waiting on her mystery driver. He sauntered over to her.
“So what’s a smart girl like you doing working in a cafeteria? Shouldn’t you be in college? Going to football games? Studying… whatever pretty girls study?”
She startled, turning around briefly as he sauntered up next to her.
“So you have no idea what pretty girls study, huh? Telling.”
“Smooth, Cynthia. You can’t avoid all my questions forever.”
“I’m not avoiding them, I just find your questions more interesting than my answers.”
“You’ve managed to fool me into thinking we’ve been having conversations for two months almost. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were trying to avoid talking to me.”
“But you do know better,” she said. She smiled.
“I actually don’t mind it. It’s helping me work up my detective skills.”
“Oh?”
“Like, the fact that you never take lunch and you always leave with bags of food. And then a lady that I assume is your mother picks you up every other weeknight on the dot.”
“Uh huh.”
“And that it’s September and you still work a full day, so you obviously aren’t attending any kind of school. Which brings me back to my opening question,” he said, obviously waiting for her to fill in the blanks.
Cynthia gives a sigh.
“My mom is… we fell on a bit of hard times. For awhile. And it’s just me and my mom, so… the plan was just to take a year off, work to help us get back on our feet, and then on to culinary school. The plan’s taking a little longer than we thought, but… it’s still the plan.”
“See, now was that so hard?” he smiled.
“It was a little hard,” Cynthia suppressed a giggle.
“What do you do on the other days that she doesn’t pick you up?”
“Take the train.”
“The train, where?”
“Across the bridge.”
“To Brooklyn?”
“Jersey.”
“Ah. Jersey. That’s where you live?”
“Yeah.” Cynthia clenched her butt, hoping he would leave it at that.
“Well, if you ever need a recommendation, let me know.”
“Thanks.”
“I’
ll be starting school myself, soon. Graduate school, that is.”
“MBA?”
“How’d you know?”
“Took a guess. Hear a lot of chatter about it in the cafeteria.”
“Those guys aren’t bothering you, are they?”
“No one bothers me, actually. Except for you.”
“I can’t help myself. It gets boring around here. You’re too beautiful to be working in a cafeteria.”
Cynthia gave him a luminous giggle that he relished.
“What’s funny?”
“My boss said you would say that.”
“Your boss?”
“He told me the same thing, and then he said ‘you’re going to hear it about a hundred times, so get used to the idea.’”
Ben smiled, the laugh lines around his eyes barely pronounced. “Your boss sounds like a cool guy.”
“He is.”
“You have an accent,” he blurted.
“Do I?”
“Faint. Caribbean, I’m guessing.”
“Very good. My mother’s from Grenada.”
“I’m going to… look that up tonight.”
“You should,” she chuckled.
“Anyway, let me know if you ever want to see Princeton. I could show you around.”
“…I’m sure you could,” Cynthia replied with a sly look in her eyes.
Ben’s mouth went dry involuntarily. He lifted his hands in surrender.
“I’m just offering as a friend. Honestly. I have a… girlfriend, anyway.”
“Really?” she answered flatly.
“Yeah. Don’t sound so surprised, Cynthia.”
“I’m not surprised…” Cynthia began, then stopped herself. Inwardly she was frantically trying to make herself disappear. “I don’t think she would appreciate this conversation at all.”
“Well that’s where you’re wrong,” Ben volunteered, as if clueless to her meaning. “She’d love you. She’s very philanthropic.”
“Likes helping out the less fortunate, does she?”
“I didn’t mean it like that.”
“Listen, Ben. You should probably get back in there.”
“Relax, hall monitor I will. Think about what I said, Cynthia. About Princeton. You should see what college is like before you nix it altogether.”
“Don’t really have money for Princeton.”