I love the end of the week. Back in college, the end of the week was the worst when I had to work. That was when the truly unruly people come out to play. I’m one of them, but boy did I see the playgrounds suffer. This time, the end of the week was what I looked forward to because I don’t have to deal with the exhaustive people at work. Crazy people, I tell you! For a brief moment, I didn’t have to deal with them. For a brief moment, even if I thought about them, it wouldn’t weigh down on me as much as when I actually saw them right before me. Had to speak to them. Had to be so cordial and professional and happy-go-lucky. This job is slowly becoming sour; from a dream and on its way to the emerald city of nightmares. Man, I hope I don’t arrive at that destination.
I tried taking my mind off of everything by ducking out real early and doing some grocery shopping. Daniel starts his new job in February so he’s been wrapped up in all the rules and policies and manuals and whatnot of his new work place like he’s getting an exam on it. So I’ve been trying to be less of a distraction and more of a housewife. Just to alleviate any stress he has. He’s had his notes and books laid out on the dining table since the beginning of this month, so he’s really obsessed with getting the best out of this job. I can relate. Everyone wants to give a thousand percent in whatever they do. Even if you’re the worst at what you do, if you give a thousand percent and persist, you’ll magically become successful. How strange. The way this world works is almost becoming supernatural, don’t you think? Unexplainable. Head-scratching. Confucius say, only three people will win over a BILLION dollars and America is still in debt. Hilarious (?).
Shopping didn’t take long. Matter of fact, it took no time. Matter of fact, it left me alone with my thoughts and I couldn’t stop thinking about work. I mean, what are my options here? I don’t want to think these people are running me out of the job but, the thought of considering another job has crossed my mind a few times. I hope that’s not weak of me.
“Honey I’m home,” I called out, smiling at the thought of seeing Daniel and feeling a lot better. I pushed through the front door using my butt to open it wide. I put the bags of groceries on the kitchen counter and sighed. “Phew, Saturday rush.” I huffed a little chuckle and finally met eyes with Daniel. He was just staring at me with no response. Not even blinking. Hunched over the dining table with his elbows and his hands huddled together, his lips pressed against his hands. I walked towards him and he watched me. I bent my knees and used my tiptoes to station myself. “You okay?”
Daniel smiled and his eyes softened. He pushed the chair back and stood. I stood with him. He moved forward. I moved back. When I hit the kitchen counter behind me he caressed my cheek with his hand and looked at me as if for the first time. Or last. Studying my face. Tracing his eyes over every concave and convex. The hollows of my eyes, the plumpness of my cheeks, the dip of my throat, the hollows at the base of my neck, my breasts and squeezing them. Our lips met to a jazz soundtrack a neighbour was playing in his room, rather loudly as it appears since Daniel’s walls are quite decent. Daniel cupped my face in his hands. I pulled him at the waist. Ran a hand through his brown hair and scrunched. I pulled his head back at his hair, Daniel sighed and laughed it off, and I started my kisses at his chin and down to his neck. Knowing how sensitive he was I bit his collar bone. Daniel moaned.
He thrust his pelvis into me and my butt bounced from him to the wall and back. He pulled my jeans down. I kicked them away. With full force, he ripped my underwear apart and it slid seamlessly off from my skin. He threw it away. I took off my top and bra as he undressed himself. I took off his top and when we were both naked, he picked me up and I wrapped my legs around him. He carried me to the dining table filled with his opened books. He sucked on my nipple, squeezed the other, and then licked two fingers and began playing me like the jazz we heard. I arched my back and lifted some paper that was stuck to me. I closed my eyes and giggled and then gasped when he pushed inside of me without warning.
The table was moving and scratching and thudding the floor so loudly that we got a knock on our door from what I assume was a passer-by getting to their apartment. “Are you alright in there?” Daniel and I laughed raucously and kept going. “So not funny!” the random girl whined.
I became excessively louder just so she could stop listening in and move on. When I heard nothing. I paid attention to Daniel’s eager face. I was on edge. He leaned down to kiss me—a trait he sometimes does when he knows I’m close—and then started sucking on my breasts as I came. His thrusts unwavering.
I hopped off the table and leaned over. He grabbed my hips and inserted himself again, thrusting faster, using me to push through harder. I swear I was about to come a second time! I turned back and watched him lift his head back and close his eyes. He groaned and moved slower as he came, but I began to move in and out to keep up the pace so his orgasm was strong. It was going all good, and he was enjoying it, except that he slipped out and came onto my back (not fussed about that) and over all his books and notes.
“Holy shit,” I breathed, straightening up and turning around.
Daniel looked hot and sweaty. His abs glistening from the steamy tumble. He slowly opened his eyes and saw my wary face confusedly, furrowing his brows. Then he looked at the table and laughed. “Holy shit.” I started giggling with him. “Well I guess we know how I feel about that shit.”
I laughed harder. “Aww is it that hard?”
“I don’t know if I’d say it’s hard more than stressful.” He sighed. “I’d say it’s hard in that sense.”
I kissed his bare shoulder. The both of us still naked. “I got your back. Whenever you need me.”
He smiled and pulled me into a hug. “I know. Alright—” he slapped his hands together— “let’s get out of here.”
“What? Out of here?”
“Yes,” he slapped my ass and it jiggled like crazy. “Let’s get out of here. We do nothing but work, we need to have fun. Some ‘us’ time. I’ll shower first.” He kissed me on my forehead and went into the shower. I later jumped in and we both had our second orgasm.
“This is sweet,” I said to Daniel.
We were holding hands and walking through Central Park without purpose. The kind of no-purpose I enjoy and welcome; where to be lost is the best part of the moment.
“We hardly do this. We should do this more often,” he said.
“Go to the park?”
“No, just chill. Relax. Forget about work and being a slave to money for at least one minute. Then maybe we can experience life instead of watching it go by.”
“I see what you mean,” I nodded. “It’s hard though.”
Daniel shrugged. “Only if we let it.”
“That should go the same for you.” I squeezed his hand and he looked at me. “With all those books and notes you got lined up on the dining room table, you should learn to take your own advice.”
“I know. I stress out too much.”
“Way too much.”
“You help me out though. I appreciate that.” He squeezed my hand back. “Thank you.”
I side-hugged him, clutching him close. We arrived at the Alice in Wonderland statue and I immediately started thinking of my book. My story. About Lewis Carroll. About rejections from literary agencies and I started to clam up and shut up.
“I can’t wait to read your book,” Daniel cut through my thoughts knowingly.
I laughed. “How’d you know?”
“I know. Don’t tell me I’m the only one that stresses out. I know you, too. You got this. Don’t worry and just write.”
I sighed. “I haven’t written in a while.”
“Push yourself, babe. Sometimes you just need to push yourself.” We found a park chair and sat down real close together. “So tell me about what’s happening at work.”
I chuckled. “I thought we weren’t talking about work.”
“We weren’t focusing on it, not not talking about it.”
“Same difference,” I said. Daniel smiled and waited for me to go on. I smiled back and continued to tell him everything that was going on. “I know things are going on with you and your preparations with your new job so I didn’t want to impose.”
“Anna, come on, I don’t ever want you to think like that. Okay?” I nodded. “Okay. Well, I reckon you ride it out and see where it takes you. Don’t make any rash decisions just because someone’s pissing you off right now. Or some people. Point is, you don’t want to make a decision you’ll regret. Just keep your cool, act professional—listen to me talk, sounding like you don’t so this stuff I’m telling you already. Just do what you’ve always been doing and I guarantee you’ll do great.”
“You’re right,” I said after listening intently. And he was. I didn’t want to make any rash decisions just because a couple of people in this billion dollar industry are pissing me off in different ways. In all honesty, my top tier of stack of shit is Stella. Brad hasn’t been on my back as much lately; Justin is a sad, poor man that’s clearly got nothing better to do; Richard just gives me side-eye every time we pass each other like he’s Azalea Banks and I’m Iggy; it all boils down to Stella.
“You all ready to check out the apartment next week?”
It was the perfect ending to a perfect day. It was all so perfect.
My cell kept ringing as we both headed home. Daniel dropped me off at my place first, kissing me good night at the stoop, and then he went on his way. I’ve been ignoring it the whole time until I was about to go to sleep. An incessant number of rings from an unknown number is enough to get my short fuse boiling.
“Hello?” I asked with a tone of annoyance to my voice.
“Hey, uhh, Anna?”
“Who is this?”
“It’s Jim. Sorry.”
“Oh, hey,” I tried to calm my voice since it was someone I knew and not a drunk random butt dialling or prank calling. “What’s up?”
“N—nothing much, I guess.”
Then it was silent. Awkward as hell. “Can I help you with something?” I pressed.
“I shouldn’t be talking to you.”
“I—I mean, this isn’t for me to say. But she’s pushing it too far.”
“Uhh, Jim, you’re kind of scaring me sounding like a hostage and all. You want to spit it out or should I call 911?”
“No, no; no need. Look don’t hate me okay?”
“Why would I hate you? I’m not liking you very much right now, but that’s beside the point.”
“Okay here it goes,” he gulped. “Here it goes.” I waited. “Here it goes.”
“Look, can you just call me in the morning or text me or whatever? I’m sort of getting ready to—”
“Anna, your father is dead.”