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Julia has been my best friend for years now. We’ve met when we were still in college, and we hit it off right from the start. I don’t believe in soul mates when it comes to love, but that’s an expression I simply have to use when it comes to Julia. Friends like hers are something as rare as true love—perhaps, even rarer.
“Yeah, he is. Can you believe this? He didn’t care about any of these girls,” I tell her, pointing at the discarded stack of briefings on the far end of my desk. She reaches for the stack and picks a few of the documents, casually appraising the girls in there.
“Mm. He’s picky, that's for sure. Which is weird. Wasn’t he supposed to be some kind of sex addict?”
“Yeah, but I guess he’s a picky sex addict. Besides, getting him to be with a woman isn’t enough. I need to make him fall in love,” I sigh, running one hand through my hair.
“You might need to lose your panties on this one, Athena,” Julia smirks, looking at me with an amused expression on her face. “Or else you might lose your shirt.”
“Thanks for the encouragement,” I tell her with a frown, and she just shrugs.
“It wouldn’t be that bad, would it? I mean, just look at him…” she says, picking up the folder where I have Malcolm’s picture and all of his personal details. She opens the folder on top of her legs and gazes down at his picture, biting down on her lower lip. “He’s a piece of heaven...” she whispers, more to herself than to me.
“Very funny. Aren’t you late for your yoga class or something?”
“Oh, crap,” she breathes out, unlocking her phone and looking at the timestamp there. “Crap, crap, crap.” She jumps up from the desk and rushes toward the door, picking her gym bag up from the couch lining the wall. “I’ll call you later. Keep me in the loop on this one,” she continues, opening the door and stepping outside so fast that she crashes against a man standing there, his fist raised as he prepares to knock.
“Julia,” the man says, a grin on his lips.
“Mr. Piece of Shit,” she replies without even thinking, standing up straight as an expression of disgust takes over her face. There’s no love lost between Mr. Piece of Shit (or Ben as I know him, although the nickname fits) and Julia. In truth, though, Julia is just defending me.
You see, Ben Danvers was the man who broke my heart. Tall and handsome, he lured me with sweet words, took my virginity and then crushed my heart under his heel as if it was nothing. Not one week after I gave him the spare key to my apartment, I walked in on him and some random slut going at it on my own bed. The same bed where he took my virginity and whispered I love you into my ear.
Yeah, Ben’s a real classy act.
It doesn’t help that Ben travels in the same fucking circles as me.
That's right. I have to see this man at every cocktail party and gallery show that I go to.
The world of the Manhattan elite is pretty fucking small once you take out all the nouveau-riche posers who made their money playing basketball or making rap videos, sex videos, or getting on the cast of Jersey Shore. You take those people out and then subtract anyone that can’t hold a conversation and now you’re left with a small circle of folks that you see pretty much every weekend.
Everyone calls them the 1%.
I call them my friends and family. And Ben. Fucking Ben.
“Charming as always, Julia,” he grins, walking past her and casually sitting down on the chair facing my desk. “Nice seeing you again, Athena. You look even more beautiful than I --”
“Shut the fuck up, Ben,” I tell him right away, not even bothering to play nice with him. He’s lucky I haven’t kicked his balls up into his brain by now. “What the hell are you doing here?” Julia gives me a look that I can only translate as a Do you need backup? but I just shake my head slightly. With a nod, she turns on her heels and leaves my office, closing the door behind her.
“Maybe I decided to pay you a visit?” he replies, the tone I once found charming now making me feel sick to my stomach. Has it ever happened to you? When you find a man handsome and charming, and then you start seeing everything from another angle? Because that’s what happened to me. And now, instead of seeing him as charming, I only see him as sleazy.
My eyes are open now.
“If you came here because you want to be my client, you’re in the wrong place, Ben. You have to have a heart in order to find love,” I tell him, slowly standing up as I prepare to dismiss him.
“I’m not here for that,” he tells me smugly, enjoying the fact that he knows something that I don’t. I know you have an interesting client now.” I can’t help but react instinctively at that, blinking in surprise. “So, I’m not wrong, huh? Malcolm really is your client, isn’t he?”
“I don’t see what --”
“Calm down, Athena, don’t get pissy,” he says with an annoying wave of his hand, cutting me short. “I just want to make sure your company lives up to its promise. I want Malcolm to find love.”
To hear Ben say something like that is almost laughable; and, if I didn’t know how sleazy he is, I’d be laughing right now.
“My company always delivers, Ben, you should know that. But why the hell are you so interested in Malcolm?”
“That’s my business. But don’t think I’m just hoping for the best here,” he says, lowering his voice until it becomes a whisper. “It’s really important that Malcolm falls in love. Because if he doesn't …” he trails off, allowing his words to hang in the air to goad me in: he wants me to start asking questions, but I just remain silent, my eyes locked on his. “If Malcolm doesn’t fall in love...” he finally continues, narrowing his eyes into slits, “well, l
et’s just say I still have those tapes of you. Remember them? It’d be a shame if they went viral.”
