Haze (6 page)

Lost in my head, I pictured myself at a fancy bar with him, the night going great. And then I went to bathroom, and in my absence, he began flirting with the girls who had
approached
him
. Numbers were exchanged and then
BAM
, I was back and he was acting like
The Best Guy in the World
. I groaned loudly—several people looked at me as I did.

"Sorry," I said meekly. No one seemed to care about my apology.
At the very least, the awkward moment served to bring me back to reality.

After noticing several smiling couples around me,
I realized that I was probably the most pessimistic person in all of NYC. I was assuming the worst—and it wasn't making things any easier. In fact, it was making things
much
harder.

Breathe
, I told myself. It helped. I got on the train and headed home, trying to wipe my mind clean at least for a couple of minutes. I considered going back, but realized that I had no business taunting myself with any additional uncertainty.

It wasn't long before I was at my own doorstep, the comfort like a rush of hot air. I got back before Jesse did, my potential
sleepover ending before it even started. Honestly, I was glad not to have to face him as I walked in. He hadn't texted me or anything, so he probably just knew what had happened. It made me feel dumb. I didn't want to be some groupie, desperately begging for scraps from some rock 'n' roll hero.

But something
definitely felt different about Jack...

***

After a quick shower—it was both a mental and physical cleaning—I jumped into bed with my laptop and Netflix, cruising the selection for something that would take my mind off the entirely weird night. I put on some stupid horror movie and tried to zone out. I eventually shut off my phone, paranoid that somehow Jack would magically get my number and text me. If he did, I didn't want to know tonight.

About twenty minutes into the movie, I heard Jesse come in. "Effie?" he called from the kitchen. I got a little worried that he was trying to take advantage of my assumed absen
ce and have loud sex with Laura—I was pretty sure I couldn't handle
that
tonight; sorry, Jesse—but I didn't hear any other voices. And then I realized he probably just noticed the light in my room and wanted to say hi.

I paused the
stupid movie, even though I wouldn't have missed anything important had I just left it going. "I'm here," I shouted. I heard his footsteps approach my door.

"Can I come in?" he asked.

"Sure."

Jesse opened the door and joined me in the small room. His suit jacket was missing and he looked tired. "I didn't know if I was going to see you again tonight."

"Yeah," I said. I looked down at the bed, feeling embarrassed and ashamed. He was fumbling with the buttons on his shirt, so he didn't notice my reaction.

"Rough night, huh?" He sat down on the foot of the bed.

"You could definitely say that."

"Wasn't that the guy you met the other day? Tom said
that the guy he introduced you to was Jack Teller and that you could barely speak. Is he the one you walked off with?"

Oh, God.
I had forgotten that I mentioned my encounter to him earlier in the week. I was totally busted.

Well, at least it was just Jesse.

"You didn't tell Tom that, did you?" I was fighting off the urge to feel prematurely humiliated.

"No, I kept my mouth shut." He flashed
his toothy grin at me, one that showed off the impeccable orthodontic work from his teens.

"Thank God," I said.
It was a huge relief. "Yeah, it
was
Jack from the other day. But he played dumb first! I didn't know if I should follow along or admit that I knew him."

Jesse started laughing. "Really? That's crazy. Some of those guys are
weird
though, for sure."

"You've met others?" Suddenly I was dangerously interested in the topic.

"Like Jack, many of them are close friends with investors. Everybody is looking for someone to bankroll the next big project." Jesse straightened out his posture before continuing, almost as if it were required for his vocal cords to work. "Artists are just hard to work with. Well, I've only
heard
that. They're usually unpredictable, but damn, they have money."

I nodded, not ha
ving much to add, but wanting him to say more.

"You probably should watch out with that Jack guy, though."

I perked up again. "Do you know something about him? Did he do something crazy? He didn't kill someone, did he?" I think my mind was hoping that Jesse would reveal something heinous and unforgivable that would instantly wipe my feelings right out.

"Jesus," Jesse said. "You're smitten. I can already tell.
And no, I don't think he killed anyone. Sorry."

Well, that plan wasn't gonna work. Damage control was all I had left.

"Smitten? You're nuts!" I playfully tossed one of my pillows at him and he caught it reflexively before it could do any real damage.

Seriousness seemed to wash across his face, instantly cleansing him of any leftover silliness. "I just don't want you to get hurt. You're new to the city here—and you've got a job to worry about." His eyes were fixed on a blank space on the wall, the only space that didn't have any pictures from my
"previous life." Well, it definitely felt that way sometimes.

"I'll watch out, Jesse," I said. "I do appreciate the concern."

"I'm serious, though. If he gets wrapped up in you, it doesn't matter. He's got all the money he'll ever need. If
you
get wrapped up, you might put your job and your financial situation at risk, all to pursue some flaky, hot guy."

"You think he's
hot
?" I asked only semi-seriously.

His
phone rang before he could respond. "It's Laura," he said apologetically, a half smile breaking out across his lips. "We'll have to talk about
that
later. I'll let you get back to your movie for now. Goodnight!" He walked out and closed the door as he left.

I was once again alone with a psychopathic killer and a bunch of large-breasted teenage girls who made even worse decisions than I did.
Their terrible decisions helped me feel better about my own missteps.

My mind stayed active for the duration of the film. I thought about what Jesse had said and how it fit into my situation. He was definitely right. It was super nice of him to care
, since honestly, he didn't have to at all. If I did anything to put my job at risk, I could wind up losing this apartment and heading home with my tail between my legs. Plus, I had all of that student loan debt on top of this.

But life was good, right? I wasn't really sure.

Even with all of my woes, sleep came quickly after the movie ended.

***

The weekend was uneventful—Jack didn't call, and I barely got out of bed. Jesse took off to see Laura on Saturday morning, so I had the apartment to myself. I got Chinese food on Saturday night and stayed glued to my computer screen, munching chow mein noodles like my life depended on it. I wanted to live in other peoples' worlds, not my own. I couldn't even remember all of the movies I watched.

I thought about Jack a lot. Once again, I didn't know much of anything that was happening. I assumed he'd probably reach out to me at some point—even if I wasn't going to try to pursue something with him, it would still be nice to hear what was up with the mysterious
girl outside the door
—so I'd just have to hear his side of the story and then let him know how it was going to be.

No, I was certain that I couldn't risk it all for some hot, presumably emotionally unstable guy. I had this job and my new life to deal with. It felt like too much was at stake.

Sunday turned out pretty typical too. Jesse got back later than he usually did, but he had to get up extra early on Monday morning so he went to bed shortly after arriving home. We talked a little. And there was still nothing from Jack.

He had probably just forgotten about me entirely. Hell, what good did it do him to remember me at all? Jack had much better things to do with his time. Much prettier women to sleep with as well. God, I felt so naive.

On Monday morning, I got to work early, more of a random occurrence than anything else that I blamed on the randomly overly efficient public transportation system. Sam was still visibly stressed out, so I assumed that nothing had happened with Jack over the weekend. I tried to avoid him as I came in, worried that he'd somehow verbally extract what had taken place on Friday night.

As he slowly approached my desk, I feared that I was about to face the wrath of Sam.

You turned him down?
the Wrathful Sam screamed.
That man gets what he wants! You're fired!

Nope. Nothing like that.

Sam asked me about my weekend, and I almost accidentally told him about the New York Palace party. Oh yes, I was glad that I caught myself. His questioning was brief and concise.

I did some busy work—well, that usually meant basic accounting and number-crunching—until lunch. When I got back, things started to get a little confusing.

"Someone's got a secret admirer," Sam said from across the room. "Did you lie to me about this weekend, Effie?" He pointed to the dozen roses sitting on my desk. "You've got some fancy new boyfriend you're not telling me about, huh?"

My cheeks immediately flushed as red as the flowers on my desk and I desperately wished I could disappear. "No." The word came out sounding stupid and ditzy. "I
don't know
who they'd be from."

I leaned forward and opened the card, my curiosity almost
morbid.

I'm sorry.

-J

Obviously, I knew what the
J stood for, but I wasn't about to speak a word of it. It didn't say anything else. No
call me
or
we've got to talk,
like most folks would do. Just
sorry
. Cryptic, actually. I couldn't really even get mad about it, although I didn't like being the center of attention in the office.

"C'mon, Effie," he said. "We're friends, right? Tell me who it is.
It's cool." His brow furrowed, as if it were punctuating the end of his sentence.

"I don't know!" I tried to be assertive without sounding angry. "I really don't know who
these are from." I smelled them—God, and they smelled
amazing
—and then pathetically pushed them to the side of my desk so I could keep working. "I know you're
dying
to find out, so I'll let you know as soon as
I do
."

Sam grinned at me and then headed back to his office, dragging his feet as he walked.

It was a nice gesture by Jack, but it rubbed me in a way I couldn't describe. I was just lost for words. Not happy or sad, complacent or desperate. I wasn't numb either.

How
did
it make me feel? I couldn't really elaborate at all.

It was also pretty much anonymous, so no one was really pointing any fingers, even though Sam
really wanted to know.

I just couldn't figure out Jack's motive. What was he after here? Forgiveness was the obvious answer, but it seemed superficial
, too diluted. Did he want us to become something else? Was he just having difficulty with the fact that I had said no? It could have meant literally anything.

At the end of the day, I left the flowers on my desk, because frankly, I didn't want to carry them on the subway. Drawing that much attention to myself felt awkward, so I decided I'd keep them at the office for as long as I could. The whole day I obsessively checked my phone, certain that Jack would call me and beg for mercy. It didn't happen.

Why didn't he do what I expected?
I really wished I could call the shots sometimes. Maybe that meant that
management
was my thing...

***

That night I had trouble sleeping. I kept thinking about how Jack had talked to me, how he had touched me,
made me come
. I went back and forth, sometimes convinced that he was he was perfect and then seconds later shifting one-hundred eighty degrees and thinking that I had just been vulnerable and taken advantage of. Any girl would have liked attention like that, right? Plus, he was really good at it.

I wanted to touch myself so badly—Jack's hotness seemed to be permanently etched into my mind and I was having trouble thinking about anything else; quite the inconvenience—but I fought the urge, stupidly thinking that it would somehow make me stronger if I resisted.

Well, I was wrong.

The next morning, I woke up sexually flustered, Jack on my mind again. Men were rarely ever so mysterious, at least the men that I had known. I mean, yeah, I got that he was apologizing, sure. But where did it go from here? When I got to work, it all started over again.