Curved (3 page)

How could any man be so good-looking? With thick black hair, and a body I could spend days admiring, he was a Greek god incarnate.

We stumbled away from him, and he turned from us back to his original work.

Outside, I glared at Angela. “What was that?”

“Sorry,” she said. “I get so locked up when I’m around him. It’s like there’s a different Angela in the room.”

I rolled my eyes, but even I couldn’t stop from gushing. Joseph pressed my clit from even far away, as if my body were every keystroke he performed on his computer. “I don’t blame you,” I said. “I’m always different when he’s around. He’s got this commanding presence.”

“Oh, stop it,” Angela said. “I know you want to fuck the man. He’s like, ‘This Ophelia bitch is hot’ all the time, too. You guys should just finish it up already.” Angela laughed.

“That’s not true,” I said, blushing. Although my panties had gotten wet and warm from the liquid dripping out of my clit and cunt. Dammit. I guess my best friend knew me better than I knew how to handle. “Whatever the case, we’ve got so much work to do, I’m already stressed. If I have any more, I might just go back to Jersey and drop out of college.”

We entered the elevator, our reflections following us like ghosts. The doors closed. Angela and I stayed still, catching a breather.

She draped a finger over one of the buttons. “Hey, don’t be so gloomy,” she said. “If you quit college, then I’m going to lose some serious morale.”

The elevator rattled as we descended.

“You don’t need me,” I said. “You know what Zena thinks. Everyone can just run everything without me. Why even bother having me around?”

The doors opened up, a ringing announcing our arrival. Not our stop. Two men in suits locked inside, carrying briefcases, papers under their arms. They nodded at us, and the doors closed.

I hated to whine any further, so I fixated on the math ahead of us. Pounds of analysis. Spreadsheet files that could fill up my entire bedroom. Wall-to-wall, at that. I ran through the various equations in my head, all the stuff I would be doing if it weren’t for my ace in the hole.

One of the main reasons why I could balance being president of a club and simultaneously school plus work was because of a couple programs I ran whenever I needed to do the tasks associated with Placarm Rhodes. I thought it was fair to automate my work—if Joseph only wanted results, and that’s all he ever asked for, then did it really matter how I got them? Besides, I had tests to worry about, and the programs I used were always top-notch.

I didn’t tell Angela about how I completed my spreadsheets so fast. Actually, when we got to our workstations on the 30th level, I pretended to be deeply mesmerized by all the numbers flying over my screen. In reality, I only had to click three or four prompts and then my laptop was off.

Yes, it was selfish of me not to tell Angela. But then again, if I did, she would blab and everyone would know. She had this way about her that was energetic and frenetic. Unpredictable. Better off to keep all my secrets to myself.

Maybe I should’ve just gone for computer science instead? You would think that the obvious solution would be to major in social work or something along those lines, but as I finished wrapping up my program, I thought about the money in my bank account, and how I could help so many people.

It sounds disingenuous from the outside looking in, but from the inside looking out, that’s how I felt: if I only had enough funds, I could do whatever I wanted. No longer shackled by poverty, my dreams could be accomplished in small pieces. I would buy a plot of land near uptown for the homeless. Then I could expand. Work with larger groups who have always been advocates for those in need—Goodwill and the like. Wouldn’t they want me? Programming their websites, networking with other smaller local organizations? It sounded too ethereal and ephemeral for me.

Anyway, I was almost done with my work. In only a matter of moments, I had to print out my sheets, show them to Joseph, and be out of the office.

He could never know.

“Are you finished already?” Angela said, sneaking up on me. I jolted awake from my reverie. “What, no way.”

I scrambled my mouse across the screen of my laptop. Folding it with my legs, I narrowed my eyes at Angela. “Don’t sneak up on me like that,” I said. “I hate being surprised.”

“Well, be surprised. Joseph wants to see you.”

I arched my eyebrow at Angela. “What do you mean?”

“Didn’t you receive the email? Check your phone.”

“Text. He texted me.”

Joseph: I need you.

I smiled to myself, guarding my screen. Angela hovered over me, crossing her arms, smiling. “What could it possibly be?” she said. “Are you going to finally have an affair with him?”

“Stop it,” I said, giggling. “He probably has a very faithful girlfriend to attend to. I can’t imagine him single.” Standing, I gathered my laptop and purse, turning for the door. Wow. Several hours had passed. The daylight had faded from Manhattan. I hadn’t noticed though.

“See you later?” Angela said, following me to the door. She stuck her head out as I went to the elevator. “Tell me how large he is, okay? It’ll be our… Little secret?” Angela laughed from behind me.

I just kept going. Why would Joseph want me? Need me?

Chapter 3

I took the long way to the elevator. The floors in the halls were done in carpet, like in a hotel, and the view was generous no matter where you walk. In the hallways, there were still workers left behind, their shifts not ending until midnight. Investment banking required heavy hours, and most people lost their sense of personal life, personal space, all for the sake of more money.

Ironically, work was the only place I had to myself. The only place where I could escape into my thoughts and daydreams, analyzing pieces of my journey, my memories. My programs saved me so much effort and mental processing, that I actually sometimes enjoyed coming in.

When the elevator rang for Joseph’s floor, I waited in the carriage to catch my breath.

My heart sped. My legs were crumbling under me, as if my feet couldn’t handle the weight of my body anymore.

“He’s only a man,” I said. “One man. Only him.”

Whenever I thought of Joseph, when I was away from him, I became flustered and heady. He prevented me from thinking straight, distracted me from my life. Oh, if only the internship would end already. Then I could get away and laser-in on the important goals of my life.

At his door, I heard no shouting, no screaming. I pressed my ear to the handle, wondering if he was on the other side. Feeling safe, I gripped the doorknob, pressing onward just like Angela.

“There you are,” Joseph said, his legs on the edge of his table. The shoeshine glossing his feet caught my attention immediately—it was in the details that Joseph was said to have climbed up to the top of Wall Street. By catching other investment banks offguard, he managed to outmaneuver them, the opposition—people like Antonio, for instance. Sitting in front of him, I felt myself shrinking.

This was a giant of a man. A mogul. Someone who knew infinitely more than I did.

“Sit closer to me,” Joseph said, sweeping his legs off. He cleared a space in front of himself, knocking with his hands on the center of his desk. Tapping his keyboard, he brushed aside a couple pens, papers, and allowed me room to place my laptop and purse down. Clearing my throat, I edged as close as I could to him, as close as I was comfortable with.

Intimidation was also said to be in his possession. Another maneuvering tactic.

“I’m impressed with you,” Joseph said. “Really, I am.”

Being that it was at the end of the day, both of us were tired and worn out. I appreciated his frankness.

“You’re a very, very clever woman,” he said, his teeth slowly sliding out from behind his lips. Straight, white, perfect. I salivated. Then I caught myself, parsing the words he shot at me.

This was a trap.

“I’m glad you think so,” I said, “but I’m not really sure what that has to do with me and my work.”

“It has everything to do,” Joseph said. “Everything that I’ve seen from you is a result of your cunning attitude, your sharp senses.”

I blushed deeply. My skin flushed with heat, my cheeks a brilliant pink. “Oh, I’m only an intern. I can’t be saving you that much money—in fact, I’d bet that I’m losing you lots.”

Joseph shook his head. “Actually, I’m here to tell you that you do great work. And you save me thousands.”

Why was I so enamored with an investment banker like him? If he were anyone else, I would be rebellious. What was so great about saving a faceless corporation thousands of dollars? Sure, I was good at my job, but who did I help at the end of the day? How many people did I impact? Interning didn’t give me the full picture. And Joseph could be elusive—I was also still in undergrad. What did I know?

“You’re a deep thinker,” Joseph said, his voice rising to a husky tone. I closed my eyes for a moment, enjoying the depth and verve behind his grace. He knew how to direct conversations, new how to lead them. “But there’s a problem with some of what I’ve seen you do.”

He printed out one of my files. A spreadsheet. On his desk, he laid out the papers, showing me all of what I had done for the Monday of that week. Lying his hands flat on his desk, he ushered me onward.

“Don’t be scared of me,” he said, shrugging.

I scooted closer, performing the same motion Angela had only hours ago, lifting my seat to not scrape the ground too hard. Up close, I looked at the printout. “What exactly am I doing?”

“You jump right into the action,” Joseph said, smirking. “Let’s stop for a moment and let me just say that I know some things about you. You’re competent. But you leave behind a trail of mistakes.”

Mistakes? I tailored my programs to be perfect. When I checked my work, I never found any issues. Actually, even with my programs doing all the labor, I still had fewer errors than Angela.

“Show me them,” I said, ready.

He pointed to a number at the top of the page. Then he traced his fingers around a set of equations, plenty of them that calculated our monthly accounting for my department. Basic stuff.

“Do you see anything?” Joseph said.

Rubbing my eyes, I said, “Yes.” Strange. I thought I had compiled a perfect set of data in my program, but it appeared in front of me then that there were blatant errors, errors which embarrassed me. “Guess my senses aren’t so sharp, huh?”

“They are,” Joseph said. “Only a couple minor ones, but they’re repeated throughout this report.” He pulled out a seperate file I had worked on the other day. “Look this over.”

I scanned the document again, my eyes bleary, desperate for an exit home. I needed my pillow and blankets, and it wasn’t like Joseph was going to offer me either in his office. Staring at the paper, I remained silent until he broke the tension with his finger tapping on the page, center, right-aligned. “See?” he said. “Have a calculator out?”

The equation represented a basic SUM function in Excel. I had it written out. The math wasns’t coherent though, was rather sloppy. After three or four runs of the numbers, I realized I must’ve made a mistake.

“Are you certain that these are my reports?” I said. “Not that I’m trying to challenge you, but, I’m not sure if…”

I had been sitting down for so long chatting with Angela, that I never really kept track of what I was doing. I just let the computer compile and spit out my data. So much for my wizardry.

“Okay, so, I know where the mistakes are,” I said, fumbling for a pen in one of his holders. Crossing out certain numbers, I made the corrections clear in bold, red ink. “There shouldn’t be any—oh, wait, one more here…”

“Take your time,” Joseph said, sitting back.

I blushed even harder now. How could I have missed so many? This was wholly unlike me. A singular event, I told him.

“You’re fine,” he said, strumming the table. With his fingers stopped, he steepled his hands, staring at me. His eyes intense. Boring into my face. I glanced at him, only to glance back at my work. I had to get home soon.

My mind began to wander. I stitched two thoughts together: Joseph’s previous backlash towards Antonio and my upbringing. People would make fun of me for not having nice clothes or food stamped lunches. Would Joseph have been a bully in my youth? Would he have pushed me around? Or would he take me in his arms and kiss me and solve my problems like I was doing for him now?

My hand trembled over the math I was writing out. My lines wobbled and turned squiggly, unintelligible. By the end of the line, I had written out a complete equation, but it seemed wrong to me. I scratched it out, frustrated with myself.

“I’m sorry,” I mumbled, my voice waning. “It won’t happen again.”

“Don’t worry,” he said, placing his hand over my wrist. “I only get angry at Antonio. I’d never be able to show the same rage towards you.”

His hands were so heavy. They must of been ten or twenty pounds. Muscular and strong, they outlined my arms, following the edges of goosebumps rising along my body. I tried pulling back from him, but my instinct was to stay in his embrace.

He made me feel good. Comfortable, even. So I settled into him, my hands balling together tightly in his warmth.

“I’ve been finding these errors for a while,” Joseph said. “I think I can help you perfect your technique. Not in the office though—I’ve been getting too busy for that. Why don’t you come over to my place tomorrow for some intensive training? I can show you everything you need to know, so you’ll get it right the first time.”

My trembling became an earthquake shiver across my body. Inviting me to his house? Or wherever he lived? Was I ready for this?

Him and I alone?

“I—I have a club meeting tomorrow,” I said, “you know, for homeless people.”

“Ah, the tricky excuse. How about after the meeting? College can’t be taking up all your time now, right?”

“R—right,” I said. “You’re right. I have time after.” I slipped my hands out for my phone to verify my schedule, but as I did so, I knocked over the cupholder containing pens all over Joseph’s lap.

Ink squirted out from one of the pens, a leaky, leaky faucet of black on his navy trousers. I shrieked in horror as the color set into his clothes, walking around to him with my shirt offered to help dab away the damage—too late. The ink was already setting in.

Kneeling next to him with my shirt stretched in my hands, I begged him forgiveness. “Oh my God,” I said, “I’m so, so, so, so, so, so, so, sorry!”

Joseph spread his legs apart. I was too mortified to be turned on, but hey, the view was nice. The ink outlined his crotch definitively. Shame and embarrassment washed over me—why was my mind so dirty, dammit?

But Jonly only grinned, his hands at his sides. “Guess you’ll be working over time?”

“No, wait, really?” My eyes were frantically rolling across his body. There was no way out of this.

“Come over tomorrow,” he said. “And your debt will be paid off.”

“Dammit,” I said, “I’m not sure why my hands did that. It’s like they’re alive on their own and—I’m really sorry. Really, I’m really, really sorry. Your suit must’ve cost thousands of dollars, and here I am, ruining that and—”

“I’ll get a new one,” Joseph said, not even blinking. “I’m not worried about this suit.”

“Oh,” I said. “You’re just saying that.”

“No,” Joseph said. “I always mean what I say.” He stood, patting his legs down with a pocket square he’d pulled from his chest. “Tomorrow,” he said, darkly. “I’ll see you at my place, text you the address, but tomorrow. I need you there. It’s important. Also,” he added, “don’t skip out on your club meeting. You’re doing a very noble thing for the homeless.”

“How did you know?” I said.

Joseph blinked at me. “It was on your resume when you applied, remember?”

Backing up and away from him, I knocked against the table, nearly splattering another set of pens on his legs. Catching the cup before it fell, I pressed my fingers over my mouth, giggling too much. “Oh, yeah,” I said. I walked to the door, running when I got the confidence to. “I’ll see you later,” I said, quickly, “yeah, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Ophelia,” Joseph said.

I stopped with my hand on the doorknob.

“Don’t worry so much,” he said. “Make sure to keep your phone on hand.”

I smiled to myself, glancing at Joseph one last time. “The pants. I owe you.”

Running out of the office, I ducked my head down, the embarrassment fully flourishing now the farther down the hall I went.