A Year Straight (9 page)

 

 

MEGAN RETURNED FROM her visit to Jared's office aglow.

“Jared is taking me to dinner at Pastis tonight. He had some client meeting that fell through, but he's keeping the reservation.”

“That 's nice dear, but what about the guy sitting at my desk?”

“Oh, I forgot to ask.”

“Are you serious?” I got up and stormed away. Did it really take a mere plate of
moules frites
and a bottle of riesling to forgive two years' worth of heartache? Jared was always hot and cold, but the cold seemed so easily forgotten once the heat came back on. I understood that concept. That was how I survived New York winters. Every March I'd wonder how I could possibly live there for yet another year, and every April spring would arrive. But I didn't want to live through cold winters of the heart, even if it was “to be expected” with men.

“I guess I'm not irreplaceable after all,” I joked to the stranger tapping away at my keyboard.

“Oh, hi there. Sorry, I'm just uploading some new billing software.”

“That's okay, take your time. I'm not overly eager to get to my in-box.”

“I'm Justin,” he said, holding out his hand. “Don't worry, I won't be in your seat for long. I'm only in town for the night, to help get you guys up to speed on the new system.”
Just-in town for the night. Perfetto.

“Thank God,” I said, “because I've got about a hundred client questions and not the slightest clue how to answer them.”

“You and me both,” he said, rolling his eyes. “I'm totally lost.”

“You're telling me.”

“Here, you can have your chair back. I am waiting for
this to upload anyway.” He was cute—a little bit Jason Bate-man in
Arrested Development
—wearing a suit and tie, though it was hardly necessary. He looked a bit like him, too. I assumed Justin didn't don one at the corporate headquarters in Silicon Valley, where the staff was rumored to glide around “campus” on longboards in T-shirts and shorts. Even seated, I could tell he was tall. He'd had to adjust the angle of my monitor and lower my chair.

“No, no,” I said. “You stay put.” I pulled up a chair from the empty cubicle next door. As Justin and I were switching seats, maneuvering around in the small space, Megan walked by. She stopped and backed up to where only I could see her and started mouthing something to me. She stopped abruptly when Noah, who was one step behind her, peeked his head into my cubicle.

“Hey, where's my invite to the party?” Noah asked, clearly curious about the stranger in there with me. Just then, Jared walked in to make an announcement.

“Alright everyone, we have Gaia Media staff in town for the night, so if you don't have plans after work, I'd like you to join us at Old Town at six.”

“There's your invitation right there,” I said to Noah, and turned back to my training. I shooed Megan away.

Justin spent another hour at my desk, during which we exchanged horror stories of disgruntled customers: the one who left me nine voice mail messages while I was out on
vacation (which my outgoing message explained), and the one who showed up at Justin's desk one day demanding a check for ad commissions.

“I don't even have the authority to write a check from the company,” Justin explained to me while I laughed harder than I meant to. He grew cuter as the story progressed. My nerves were short-circuiting. When he told me the guy was escorted off campus by two security guards on Segways, I had to run to the bathroom to gather myself. There is nothing sexier to me than someone who can tell really funny stories really well. Justin was one of those people. And he was sitting in my chair at work.

The end of the day took forever to arrive. It was Thirsty Thursday, and we were all antsy to get to Old Town to take advantage of the free food and drinks. I was eager for secret reasons of my own. Noah stopped by my desk on his way to the door.

“Walk you out?”

“Oh, why not?” I was feeling unfettered.

“Ah, a step in the right direction!”

“Don't get your hopes up. I'm just trying to beat the rest of these peeps to the elevator. I'm hungry,” I said.

My phone rang. It was TJ. I debated whether or not to answer. I hadn't spoken to her in several days. It rang twice more. And then I pressed “reject.”

Twelve of us crammed into the elevator. I was nervous to
see Justin at the bar, so I distracted myself by estimating the combined weight of my coworkers and comparing it to the elevator limit. I bet that was the last thing on anyone else's mind, but I had always worried too much, and with my new double life underway, I was even more anxious than usual. On the nights that I actually slept soundly enough to dream, I'd been having a recurring nightmare:

“Traitor!” yells a voice from the audience. Ashton Kutcher pulls me into a passionate kiss, sending my Miss Lez crown sailing across the stage. People are pointing at me. The crowd awaits my response, but my lips won't move and I wonder what I would say if they did. Behind Ashton's head, I see TJ in the audience. I wave to her. She turns her back. I awake in a pool of sweat.

Justin was nowhere to be found at the bar, so I poured a beer from the communal pitcher and sequestered myself in a dark booth. Noah showed up a moment later, as predicted, and not halfway through my third sip, Justin joined us with a platter of pigs in a blanket. Good dog. Men are so simple. In my experience, a woman might have taken much longer to walk over, first having some fun with a few subtle signals. Although we typically refer to men as the players, I think women are more adept at the game. We are sneaky and stealthy and wise. Men just stumble right up to bat. I was going to have to employ my own wily ways if I was to flirt with Justin without Noah noticing. I reached over Justin and
popped a mini-dog into my mouth. Taking someone's food without asking is a sure sign of flirtation.

“I thought you didn't eat meat,” Noah joked.

I smirked at him and stole another one. Noah had to keep quiet or he'd ruin everything. Thankfully, Megan and Jared sat down at our table to add a distraction.

An hour into the evening, everyone was a bit buzzed and the bartender had turned up the music. Megan was at the bar, trying to hold Jared's attention while another woman ordered a drink and smiled at him. Noah got up to go to the restroom. Now's my chance, I thought.

“I'm still hungry. That was just an appetizer. Have you ever had a New York burger ? My favorite place is a few blocks away.”

“I'm not sure how a New York burger differs from burgers in L.A., but you have me intrigued,” Justin said.

“What I mean is, it's not going to be a tuna burger with avocado and wasabi aioli like you Californian lightweights are accustomed to. I doubt you can even finish a whole one.”

“Can you?”

“Never failed to.”

I didn't bother to say goodbye to Megan and Jared, who were flirting at the bar, their faces almost touching. I was nearly running down the street toward the burger place, afraid Noah might look outside for me. Justin grabbed my arm and stopped abruptly on the sidewalk.

“Do you have any idea how gorgeous you look right now?”
Uh oh.
The flirting had worked. His boldness took me by surprise. I smiled. It was so cold that I could see our breath in the small space between us. Justin shivered a little bit.

“Come on, L.A.” I pulled him toward the restaurant.

Justin impressed me by finishing his burger first. Then he got up and walked around the table to occupy the empty seat next to me. He put his arm around me and kissed my neck as I stuffed down the last few bites of mine. I wriggled in my seat, uncomfortable with our public display of affection. What if someone I knew walked into the restaurant? McHale's was rumored to be closing for good, so everyone was making what might be their last visit. I struggled to swallow the last bite, already full from the bar food. Justin excused himself to the men's room and paid for our dinner on the way past the host station. I slunk into my seat and unfastened the top button of my pants. I was pretty sure that was a no-no on a first date, but I wasn't exactly a traditional girl to begin with.

“Oh my God, I'm so full,” I said when Justin returned from the bathroom.

“I'm actually shocked that fit inside you.” I had a flashback of the Magnum man. I needed some air. “My hotel is around the corner. You can crash there till the fries wear off.”

“Did they include Tums among your complimentary toiletries?”

We arrived at his hotel, where he went to search for the
antacids. I promptly passed out on his bed, facedown, fully clothed down to my shoes.

When I awoke the next morning, I was discombobulated. The curtains were not my own. Then I realized that I had fallen asleep in Justin's hotel room. There was a blanket and pillow on the armchair next to the bed, implying that he had slept there. He was just stepping out of the shower.

“Hey!” I yelled over the exhaust fan in the bathroom. “Get in your bed so you can at least enjoy an hour or two of real sleep.”

Just in crawled into the bed next to me. We lay together, pretending to sleep. I opened one of my eyes to peek at him and he was looking right at me. I leaped on him and we started to kiss. He unraveled my scarf as I wriggled out of my five layers and foraged in my bag for a condom. I put it on him like a pro, and then we were having sex. Yes! I let out a moan of pleasure and began to gyrate along with him, high on the thrill of it.
Sex in the morning! It's my favorite! This is fun! I rock the casbah! I am unstoppable!
I sang the chorus to Nelly Furtado's new hit in my head, though I barely knew the lyrics.

“Don't move!” Justin yelled, his tone frantic. I froze in place (on top of him). In broad daylight, questions flooded in along with the blinding rays of the morning sun. What just
happened? Do I just stay here ? Do I get off? (Apparently not.) Did I do something wrong? I assumed something had gone terribly awry, but I didn't know what, and I wasn't about to ask. Justin didn't offer any hints. He rolled out from under me, got up, and went to the bathroom without saying a word. When he did finally speak, it was only to cheerfully change the subject, if there had been one to begin with.

“Hey that Jared's a pretty cool guy, huh?” Justin asked from the bathroom.

“He's alright. He's, you know, a boss,” I said, looking around the room for answers. Did that really just happen ? And were we really not talking about it ? All sorts of strange things happened during sex all the time, from noisy air pockets to mortifying malfunctions of varying kinds. I was accustomed to sharing a laugh with women, as we could usually relate to each other's mishaps. I was ready to address the situation with empathy and a little lighthearted humor, but something told me to keep my mouth shut. Maybe it was the fact that I knew most men to carry around deep wells of shame built up of painful issues they don't address. Or perhaps it was that he was already enthusiastically looking up the YouTube video he'd mentioned earlier in the evening.

“This guy is for real. I did some research,” he said, pulling up a clip of a man barking like a dog. I shared a few of my own favorites—funny cats, Tavi's H&M rap, and the
Sex and the City
clip where Carrie falls in Dior. We ordered
room service and cracked up over eggs and toast. Sometimes laughter really is the best medicine.

“Hey, why don't we share a taxi ? I'll have it swing by the office on my way to the airport,” Justin suggested, packing up his suitcase.

“It's probably better if we aren't seen together,” I said wearily, imagining the look on Noah's face if he were to see us pull up in a cab. “But if I don't get the boot, maybe I'll see you sometime for more training.”

“Here's my number. Call me,” he said, handing me his card. I got dressed, gave him a hug, and left. The hotel staff was so nice, everyone singing, “Good morning, Miss” on my way out. They were probably trained to do so, so that people having affairs feel fantastic upon leaving their establishment and thus don't associate the place with the guilt that later ensues. I felt like a scandalous movie star. As soon as my feet hit the pavement, I called Keith. I had questions. He didn't answer, and I knew he'd call back two months later. That was just his way. The next best person was TJ, not that she would do anything but make fun of me. She didn't pick up either. Megan would be at her Pilates class. I was desperate. I called the only other person who knew of my secret straight capers: my brother. Of course, I wouldn't go into detail, but at least he might offer some insight into the male psyche.

“Why on God's green earth are you calling me at 8:27
a.m.?” My brother, a DJ and known to party until dawn, was prone to sleeping past noon.

“Little brother! I can't believe you picked up. I thought for sure you'd be sleeping.”

“I was.”

“You love me. Listen, I need some advice.”

“Yes, all guys are assholes, go back to women. Goodnight.”

“No wait! I know, I know, and I don't disagree with you. But I'm stubborn. I got this from Nonna Dina. And now I've started something, and it's like a puzzle I want to solve.”

“Might I suggest a game of Tetris?”

“Meet me at Souen for ramen tonight. Please?”

“I get off work at nine. See you there, Sis. You're treating.”

“Of course!”

I took my time walking to work, overthinking in my undercaffeinated trance. I wasn't impressed with how my man trial was panning out. How much more was I willing to sacrifice? And what exactly was to be gained? I stopped into Starbucks for a grande Awake tea. There was a long line, which added to my frustration, for I didn't really like to frequent Starbucks, opting instead for independently owned cafés when possible. But it was all Midtown had to offer. The man in front of me whipped open his
New York Times
and folded it into four easily manipulatable parts with seamless expertise. He probably did it every morning in that very spot while waiting to order his usual, a double
Americano with room for milk. I caught myself automatically leaning over to see if he was wearing a wedding ring. Where did I learn to do that ? As I was no longer seeing men as mere specks in my peripheral vision, it turned out I had very well-rounded taste. Practically any seemingly single, seemingly sane guy looked really good to me. I felt a little out of control. I nearly stepped into oncoming traffic while adjusting the string of my tea bag. A cab blared at me, jolting me back up onto the sidewalk. I made my way to The Gap, the only store open at 8:00 a.m.—a practical tidbit Megan had covered in my training.