by J. S. Badham
“So, are you doing anything today?” he asked, leaning his hand on the back of her kitchen chair.
She put down her pen. “Nope. I’m gonna finish up our notes, then I need to look over last year’s datasheets. I don’t suppose you’re gonna do that?”
He gave a short laugh. “I have plans, so no. But I’ll look over this later.” He mockingly saluted as he dropped the towel on the table. “As a matter of fact, I’m off now, so farewell, m’lady.”
“Thank God! I can finally have peace around here,” she said as he began to walk off.
***
As promised, he showed up at his penthouse, as if he needed to be invited. His brother, Jared, and friend, Kyle, were polishing off the last drop of alcohol from his drinks cabinet. He expected this. But what he didn’t expect was his mother welcoming him from the other side of the room, cradling a grey designer’s bag that he preferred over the pout clinging to her pink lips.
“Zack Harold Benson,” she said, her white pearl dangling earrings shimmering aggressively as she stalked towards him. “I’ve left tons of messages on that answer machine of yours. I come to visit and arrive to see Jared passed out on the sofa and Kyle parading about in his underwear. I had the shock of my life!” Great, he thought. He narrowed his eyes at the pair, who were bashfully tidying up their mess, glasses nearly being knocked over in the process.
“Mother, I apologise—”
“Where were you?” she asked, grabbing a tissue from out of her bag and dabbing herself under her nose.
“I was at the office,” he lied.
“Well, next time, answer your home phone, and for goodness’ sake, Zack, control your brother. He’s yet to be a proper adult. I don’t want to see him passed out,” she demanded, pausing as she exhaled. “Now, I came to tell you that your father would like to speak to you tomorrow. It’s important.” She adjusted the sleeve of her navy blue jacket as she balanced her bag strap across her arm.
“Let me guess. It has to relate with that recent charity gala—and oh, yeah! Another warning or so, or to remind me not to consider renewability as an option for the company to take,” he responded, sighing as he passed his mother and headed towards the drinks cabinet himself. Zack could hear his mother behind him, pestering Jared briefly, who was complaining of feeling nauseated. He poured himself a whiskey, what was left of the stuff, anyway.
“Zack, I know it’s hard to hear, but your father is right. He just wants what is best for the company, for you, for all of us. It’d be embarrassing if things went wrong, and you know it would.”
“And? At least I tried. I don’t see the problem. I’m not scrapping our original product. Housing remains housing. I just want to experiment, work in a field that I see will be investable.” He took a sip.
She exhaled. “Why you can’t just follow simple instructions? You never have been able to. Just promise me you’ll come tomorrow.”
Zack hesitated, then nodded.
“Good, now clear this place up. You’re not in University anymore. You’re a grown man.” She kissed his cheek, leaving remnants of her lipstick upon his right cheek. “Jared, fix yourself,” she ordered before composing herself as she confidently walked towards the penthouse lift.
“Nice going, dickhead,” Zack remarked as Kyle headed towards the opposite side of the cabinet. “What do you call this?” He gestured towards the mess of empty bottles and cans lying about.
“Man, I didn’t know your mother was coming. I just forgot where I put my trousers, that was all. Your brother was high on life. What can I say?” He shrugged his shoulders.
“You have your own apartment.”
“Yeah, but yours is better, and besides,” Kyle argued, gently slapping Zack’s shoulder, “your place is a lot nearer. Distance wouldn’t have persuaded those two lovely female companions to dally on back with me and Jared. And you wouldn’t have wanted poor ol’ me and Jared rejected, now, would you? So, cheer up.” He placed a glass down, gesturing for Zack to fill him up. “Anyway, how are things going?”
“Shit. Turns out the three months I intended to use to plan whilst doing all this funny business is in jeopardy, but I’m remaining on it now in an attempt to save the project. Not that it means anything to you, does it?” he explained. “I should honestly start thinking about changing my code to stop you pair from dropping in.”
“Come, come, you wouldn’t do that. Besides, you think Jared would rather be spending his time off from his semester at the family home with two barmy parents? I think not,” Kyle objected, shaking his head as he poured himself a glass of water from the kitchen sink. “So, anyway, I’d rather hear about interesting stuff than work. A man like me who barely likes to cooperate with that responsibility cares not to think about that. What’s the situation with the roommate? Any valuable lessons being learned? Can she not keep her hands off you?”
“Actually, she’s very stubborn. And I’ve not been that entirely invested in trying to sleep with her, if that’s what you’re implying. We do have sexual tension, though. And she knows it,” Zack said, swirling the dark liquid around in the glass. “And one could say I’ve attempted…washing up.” He looked towards the floor.
“I’d have paid to have seen that. Zack, washing up. Bloody hell!” He laughed. “Your mother would be having the fits!”
“She probably would,” Zack agreed. “Look, I honestly don’t know what you’ve planned today, but I actually need to dig a few things out of my office.”
“Aye, aye. Well, Jared is still under the weather, so I’m gonna patch him up. You’re coming out as you promised, right? Later? It’s important you do, as it’ll be the club I intend to invest into,” Kyle said proudly, passing Zack’s brother, who was struggling to lean up off the couch.
“Oh, wow. Looks like Kyle does have legs, arms, and a brain. Wonders will never cease,” Zack sneered.
“Well, my business bachelor’s degree had to come useful for something.”
***
CLAIRE
Claire was researching through last year’s figures, comparing the old Project 32 to the new, perhaps already prematurely dying Project 42. Investment would have to be increased. There was clientele there, investors were out there, and with current government legislation, using renewable sources had to be increased. She was marking it down, cross-referencing the old to the new before her mobile rang, summoning her to stop. She didn’t expect it to be Jason ringing at half three, considering their meet-up was not till later, unless he was double checking as friends usually do to see if she was still available.
She picked it up, relieved to see it was her mother’s face lit up on the caller ID. “Hello, Mom. What’s up?” she said, leaning back in the kitchen chair.
“Oh, honey. I’m just calling to see how you are,” she replied joyfully.
“Oh, yeah. I’m fine. I was gonna call you. Sorry, I’ve been busy. I had to sort out finding a new roommate. It’s done now, so don’t worry. I’ve paid this month’s rent.” Claire stood up and began to pace around the room.
“Oh, good. I’m glad to hear. Have—I mean, you’re going to bring someone to Matt’s wedding, right?” she asked, referring to Claire’s brother, Matthew.
“Mommmm,” she groaned, “it’s not necessary. I don’t have to bring a date. The invitations just suggest that for those who want to bring a plus one.” She propped herself on top of the counter, kicking her feet gently against the lower cupboard doors.
“I know, but it’d be nice. Oh, Claire, I know it’s your brother’s day, but it would be nice if you could. You’re so beautiful, honey. It just baffles me how you’re still single,” she insisted.
“Gee, thanks for reminding me, Mom. Look, I don’t know yet, but don’t go putting your hopes up if I don’t. Just remember, it’s Matt’s day. Not mine, okay?” she said.
“I know, I know. Well, it would be nice, that’s all I’m saying. Anyway, I better go. You know how your father gets when he can’t hear the telly. I love you, s
weetheart,” she replied.
“Yes, love you too. Bye, Mom,” she responded, ending the phone call. If there was one thing she’d preferred, it was she’d rather be lectured for behaving badly as a child than be lectured for her current single status. Darren’s voice for a second then, sprang to mind, childishly singing about Jason tonight. This wasn’t a date, she chided back. As if that helps. Talking to yourself.
She looked at the clock then quickly texted Jason, asking him what time he expected to arrive. She sent him the address and any other necessary details. He surprisingly texted immediately after, supplying her the detail that he’d be there around five, the movie he’d planned was at half-five, tickets were already booked, and then they would rendezvous at a restaurant. His exact words.
It was four already, meaning she had an hour to get her ass kicked into action. Like military order, she wanted her legs shaved, hair washed, makeup applied, and clothed with at least five minutes to spare. That was fair, wasn’t it? She could manage that, right?
***
ZACK
After, rummaging through hours of half-empty folders, he’d found nothing to indicate that his father had cooperated with some member in the workforce to mess about with Project 32’s investment. There was no slip-up, but what did he expect? His father to have just gladly provided the evidence of ordering some fool to authorise it? He’d also spent much of his day caring for Jared, who was nauseated till about half past two, when he’d finally vomited up the last chunks of last night’s vodka. If it was anyone, it had to be Clive Graves, the department manager. He had final judgment of the summary before being passed to the accountants. It made sense. He just needed evidence. Evidence that his father was still messing about. And as for this recent cock-up, Project 42 had to work.
He decided it was best to head back to Claire’s apartment and return later to the two imbeciles after following up with Claire’s progress on their project.
Zack felt tired as he got off the bus and a little dehydrated after trying not to suffocate on the awful stench coming from the elderly man sitting at the front, digging his fingers into a loaf of bread and gnawing the crusts off. He entered the apartment about quarter to five, throwing the keys onto the sideboard nearest the front door and flinging his shoes off, desperately wanting to rub his sore, aching feet.
Claire wasn’t about yet. The bathroom door was wide open, and the kitchen had no wandering soul rummaging through the cupboards or boiling water in the kettle.
“Hello? Anybody home?” he called out, waiting a few seconds before flopping himself down onto the two-seater sofa. It was then a struggle and a half to reach for the remote control, surfing through the crappy late evening programmes hoping something good was on. He barely made time for television in reality. There was just no need: he was always either out, working, and setting Olivia goals she fed back to him or tousling in another stranger’s bed.
“Oh, you’re back. Where have you been all day?” He heard her voice grow louder as she came out of the small corridor. He was lying on his back, arm propped over his head as he peeked through the gap, almost immediately regretting his decision to have been so lazily lounging about as he collapsed onto the floor at the very sight of her. That was very un-Zack of him.
Speechless was an understatement. She wasn’t naked, she wasn’t dazzled up in a shiny, golden dress for the Oscars or some other glitzy event, but she did look stunning. For whatever reason, he didn’t ask. His eyes did the asking, asking why: why did his mouth go dry at legs that looked like they went on for days? Why did his heart thump a little quicker at the little black dress hugging her curvy physique? Why was he gaping like a fish at a woman he’d spent at least a week with and now was craving her in the bedsheets he’d claimed as his? He had confessed at first sight he hadn’t seen her as stunningly attractive as the models he’d swept off their feet, but now those two brown eyes indignantly looking back at his own suddenly had him tongue-tied.
“Why are you staring at me like that? It’s rude, you know?” she piped up. She stood with her hands on her hips and her red lips angrily pursed together.
“You look beautiful,” he confessed, halfway back up on his feet before settling back down onto the sofa.
“Oh, erm,” she coughed, awkwardly dropping her hands from her hips. “Thanks, but it’s really nothing. It’s casual. Or I hope it is.” She paused nervously.
“I mean, casual. Sure. But don’t be surprised if you have a man howling at your feet,” he remarked, his eyes still failing to keep at bay.
“Great. I look stupid. It’s too much. Urgh. I’ve got to go change—”
“Baby, no, you look smoking hot,” he interjected, biting down on his bottom lip and playfully fanning himself.
She rolled her eyes.
“Where are you going? You haven’t got a date, have you?” he asked, interested to know where on earth this stunning beauty was heading off to. Now, he was beginning to crave her some more. If a kiss wasn’t already enough, he was wanting to know what else they’d be willing to sweetly make.
***
CLAIRE
“So what if it is?” she defensively said. “I’m allowed to date.”
“So you are,” he persisted.
“Err…yes!” she lied, grabbing her black clutch.
“Wow…I feel kind of betrayed. You’re willing to let some other guy take you out? What about poor ol’ me?” he objected.
“Ha, fat chance.” She stalked towards the front door, grabbing her keys from off the sideboard.
“Your zipper isn’t completely up,” Zack noticed.
“What? Oh?” She began to fuss over it, attempting to reach the small zip tucked nicely just below where her bra strap was. Abruptly, her heart hammered as she felt his fingertips gently touching her back. They didn’t feel cold but immersed in whatever emotion she was feeling; they summoned her nerves to the surface. This sort of felt like déjà vu. Holding her breath? Her heart rate rising? Sweaty palms? And here came the intrusive thought! This sudden desire to allow him to embrace her in his arms, slowly undress her like a wrapped present before consuming each other in an animal instinct. No.
“Thanks.” She shook off the thought as he finished zipping it up to the top.
“Are you sure you’d wouldn’t rather stay here with me? I’ve been told I can be very entertaining,” he replied, deviously smiling as he popped his hands in his trouser pockets.
Claire snorted.
It was totally unplanned then, that the door was knocked upon, abruptly simmering the tension between the pair. She opened the door. Oh, dear. Flowers? Please say this wasn’t a date. Even if she had completely lied to Zack for some odd reason, admitting it as such. Claire thought she heard Zack wince as Jason greeted her affectionately, passing her the bunch of flowers and swiping a quick peck on her right cheek. Shit.
“You look…gorgeous.” Jason blushed. “Oh.” As he noticed Zack.
“Erm, thank you, Jason. You really didn’t have to. I’ll just go put them in a vase,” she interjected, sliding away from the door.
Jason awkwardly pocketed his hands into his black jeans. “Hello,” he managed to say.
Zack raised his brows.
“Sorry,” they both heard Claire say as she returned. “I couldn’t find a vase, so I just had to fill the washing bowl up with water until I go out to buy one.”
“No worries.” He smiled. “I’ll have her back by eleven,” he joked towards Zack, who appeared suddenly stung.
Then she bid goodbye to Zack as she left.
This couldn’t be a date? Surely, it couldn’t? This was just a friendly meet up. Friends can give each other flowers. Right? Claire was not quite sure now as she slid into the passenger side of Jason’s red mini coupe, fumbling anxiously with her clutch. She would have known if Zack hadn’t interrupted. And now? Who knew? And what about Zack? Yes, her conscience sneered. What did she just call that moments ago? It had to be something if she was actually considering
sleeping with the guy. No, she argued back.
“I’m so glad you agreed to come out. It’s good that I booked the tickets. Otherwise I’m pretty sure we wouldn’t have got a seat,” he said as he put the key into the ignition. “So, how was your day?”
Okay, fairly average conversation. Maybe this isn’t a date after all. “Yeah, it was okay. Just catching up with a lot of work. Balancing between the two. You know how it is.” She chuckled anxiously, trying to distract herself from the fact he’d slid in a CD that was notably a collection of love ballads. Fuck. No. Maybe he just liked love ballads? Who didn’t? Chill, Claire, chill.
“Oh, unlucky. I’m up to date at the moment, so I’ve just been around my grandmother’s helping her stack up some old stuff in the attic,” he replied, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel.
“Let me feel your body under my fingertips,” the duet continued from the CD. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
“Oh, that’s so sweet of you.” She forced a smile.
“Ha ha, yeah. I love helping my grandmother as much as I can. She’s lovely,” he replied, steering left onto the busy road, heading towards the left of the city centre where she knew the largest cinema in town stood.
“Make love till dawn breaks through.” Another line in the chorus scared her. She flinched, glancing quickly outside to escape the awkwardness.
“So, erm, what are we seeing?” she asked, trying her best to keep the conversation moving.
“Action, if you don’t mind. It’s part of the latest superhero franchise,” he proudly said.
She sighed inside with relief. “Yeah, that’s fine.” She smiled.