Draw Me In (11 page)

Flustered
and frustrated, I tromped over to my closet and shoved back the accordion
doors. I wasn
’
t
sure how I
’
d
missed it earlier, but a modest, black scoop-neck dress was draped in front of
the other clothes, its hanger hooked in the opposite direction. A Post-It note
with Ian
’
s
familiar scribble read,
“
Wear
Me!
”
I felt like
Alice in Wonderland
with
her explicitly written instructions.

“
Thank you, Ian,
”
I whispered, relieved to have someone
select my wardrobe for me because I certainly wasn
’
t having any luck. I almost didn
’
t even survive getting ready.
Surviving the day was going to earn me an award. I made a mental note to stop
by the teacher
’
s
supply store after work because this girl needed to stock up on her gold stars.

After
dressing without any other major incidences, I checked the clock to see if I
had time for a quick errand before showing up for my first day of work at
Carducci Enterprises.

Work.
Wow. My first day of
work
. Though I
supposed that
’
s
what I
’
d
been doing at the coffeehouse these past few years, none of that ever felt
professional. This was real. Or at least it was as close to a real job as I
’
d ever had.

I
wasn
’
t
even certain what I would be doing. Ian and Leo met up once this weekend to go
over preliminary images from the shoot while I was in a comatose-like state of
rest. Whatever the doctor had prescribed delivered enough punch to knock out a
small elephant. Maybe even a small herd of elephants, because I assumed they
traveled in herds. Unless they were Dumbo, in which case they flew, and then it
might be a flock of elephants. Whatever it was, that drug had completely
leveled me.

All
Ian told me when he returned later that night was to show up in Leo
’
s office at 9:00 am on Monday. That
was all the information I had, so I went with it and began my short hike to
their building over on 22
^nd
street.

On
my way, I dipped into
Bean There, Drank
That.

“
Well,
”
Cara, my shift manager called out
from behind the counter.
“
If
it isn
’
t
our long-lost Julie!
”

I
reddened at her introduction as all patrons swiveled their heads up to see what
the fuss was about.

“
Hey Cara.
”
There wasn
’
t a line, so I walked straight up to
the bar and dropped my hands onto the surface.
“
Machine fixed?
”

“
Yes, amazingly, it is.
”
She wrote an order onto a to-go cup
with a black felt-tip pen and shoved her blonde bangs off her forehead with the
back of her hand.
“
So
I hear you
’
re
abandoning post, huh?
”

“
Rick told you.
”
Rick was Cara
’
s husband and the owner of the shop.
I
’
d emailed him this weekend, giving
him my two weeks notice, and feeling absolutely horrible that I had to do it
over the Internet and not in person. But the drugs and the pain were still
present in my system, and the thought of hauling my booty down the block to
deliver the news made me weak just upon thinking it.

“
Yes, dear, he did.
”
Cara couldn
’
t have been more than five years
older than me, but it seemed appropriate for her to call me dear. Some people
could get away with it. I tried calling a salesclerk at Neiman Marcus
dah
-ling once, and she eyeball slapped
me with the look of death. I was not one of those that could get away with it.
Apparently even verbiage belonged to different classes.

“
So I break your coffee machine, and
then quit in an email. How lame does that make me?
”

“
A little lame,
”
she teased, wiping her hands down
her apron.
“
But
seriously, Julie. You didn
’
t
break the machine. It had been on the fritz for a while and I kept telling Rick
it needed to be replaced. You were just the unfortunate bystander who happened
to be there when it took its final breath.
”
She dumped a scoopful of ice into the cup and poured two shots over the top.
“
Well, you and Leo Carducci.
”

My
eyes shot up.
“
How
do you know who he is?
”

“
Leo?
”
I nodded. Cara shrugged her
shoulders as though what she was about to say was obvious information.
“
He came in here a few months ago
looking for you. Left his card. I thought Rick gave it to you.
”

“
No.
”
What was she saying? Suddenly
I
felt like the one who was an English
language learner. No entiendo nada.
“
I
never got a card.
”

“
Yeah, he said to tell you about an
exhibit at The Frame showcasing the work of local talent inspired by
Michelangelo
’
s
David.
”
Cara cocked her head to the side, so far that her cheek almost touched her
shoulder.
“
None
of this rings a bell?
”

“
I never got any of that.
”
There was no bell ringing. Not even
the soft chiming of those triangle instruments from band back in fourth grade.
None of this sounded familiar.
“
Anything
else?
”

“
I just assumed you knew the guy. I
mean, he
’
s
in here at least twice a week.
”

“
What?
”

No,
he wasn
’
t.
I
’
d worked at the coffeehouse four days
a week since my sophomore year of college. What were the chances he would show
up during the three days I didn
’
t
happen to be on the schedule? It seemed too far-fetched to be true. Unicorns
and Big Foot and the Abominable Snowman all at once.

But
it also made our accidental encounters seem not so accidental. Maybe it wasn
’
t luck that led him to the shop on
the day that the espresso maker died. Maybe our days had finally just fallen
into sync, some Law of Chance. This new information practically stunned me into
speechless.

“
Sorry, Rick is terrible with
messages.
”

“
Though he did manage to give you the
one saying I won
’
t
be working here anymore.
”

Cara
sighed and smiled simultaneously.
“
Yes,
though I do wish he hadn
’
t.
We
’
re
going to miss you around here, you know?
”

For
the first time since accepting the position at Leo
’
s firm, I felt the reminiscent pang
of sadness hit me square in the chest. I was going to miss this place. It had
been my home away from home and I
’
d
grown to love my time here, as well as the colleagues that shared both the
space and minutes with me. It would be hard to leave, but as I
’
d said earlier, I needed a bigger
canvas. I hoped that
’
s
what was waiting for me at Leo
’
s
office. Well, that and a half-naked Leo that I could draw naughty pictures
on...er, I mean, of.

“
I
’
m going to miss you guys, too. But
you know I
’
ll
be in all the time. I can
’
t
go without my coffee fix for too long.
”
Pulling out my wallet from my black Kate Spade purse that had been a gift from
Ian
’
s
mother last Christmas, I threw four dollars onto the counter. They landed in a
crumpled heap next to the register, sort of looking like a failed attempt at
origami.
“
Speaking
of, can I get a large, quad shot, iced Americano?
”

“
Do you have plans to build an arc
this afternoon, Jules? Because that is enough caffeine to accomplish that
daunting task.
”

“
It
’
s not for me.
”

“
Oh,
”
she crooned, her head pulling up and
down with her tone.
“
I
thought that order sounded familiar. A little first day kiss ass gift?
”

“
No, more like a little,
‘
Sorry I ruined your coat and your
pants and then turned you down but for some crazy reason beyond all scope of
logic you still hired me,
’
peace offering.
”

Cara
’
s eyes became as big as the saucers
we used under our coffee mugs.
“
I
’
m sorry, I didn
’
t hear any of that other than the
part where you said you turned him down. But clearly, I couldn
’
t possibly have even heard that
right, because no one would do that. He asked you out and you seriously said
no?
”

“
He asked me to
lunch
and I said no. So it wasn
’
t like he even asked me on an
official date or anything. Either way, I made a fool of myself, and I
’
m 99.99% certain I
’
ll make a fool of myself at least
five more times before my day is over. That
’
s pretty much the track record I have
with him.
”

“
Now I don
’
t feel so bad that you
’
re leaving us.
”
Cara scribbled something on the
large to-go cup and started up the espresso maker, packing down the sandy
grinds and inserting them into machine.
“
You
obviously just took the job because you felt guilty for denying him. Not
because working for Carducci Enterprises is so much more prestigious than
working for us.
”
Her smile was teasing and wide as she drizzled one shot after the other over
the ice in Leo
’
s
cup.
“
No
hard feelings.
”

“
No hard feelings,
”
I concurred, snaking my hand out to
take the cup from her. I waved a good-bye that didn
’
t quite feel so much like a good-bye
as it did a
‘
See
you later.
’
Because even though I wouldn
’
t
be standing in that familiar perch of my workstation any longer, I figured I
’
d be there every morning to retrieve
Leo
’
s
daily dose of energy in a cup. My time here wasn
’
t fully done, and I was grateful that
we left things on a good note. As Cara said, no hard feelings.

CHAPTER NINE

Well,
that was a steaming bunch of bull honky.

I
had hard feelings toward Cara as I stood opposite Leo, only a mahogany desk and
a smirk so defined it could cut glass separating us.

I
had
very
hard feelings. The kind of
I-want-to-gouge-your-eyes-out-with-a-teaspon-and-then-shove-coffee-filters-in-your-mouth-so-you-gag
type of feelings. That was probably too graphic. I vowed to cut back on my
viewing of late night horror flicks and limit myself to infomercials that fed
me false promises of becoming skinnier, prettier, and an all around better
human by purchasing products from their As Seen on TV websites (for a limited
time only, of course).

So
maybe I didn
’
t
want to impede Cara
’
s
vision or senselessly waste her coffee filters, but I did want to slap her
silly. Or maybe it was Leo I wanted to slap, because that plastered grin was
really taunting. If I drug my hand across it, could I wipe it away?

“
You drew a heart around my name?
”
he asked, cocking his head to the
side at the same time he leaned his weight into the leather chair, bowing it
backward to lift his feet onto the desk. He crossed his ankles one over the
other and rotated the cup in one hand, his cool composure well played.

“
I told you, I didn
’
t do that.
”

“
But you said you made my coffee.
”
He hadn
’
t lifted his eyes to look at me, and
instead continued admiring the cartoon drawings scribbled on the side of his
coffee cup. Cara might as well have etched Leo + Julie on the side of a tree in
Central Park. She practically did everything but that on the side of his drink.

“
I was lying.
”
Pause.
“
To impress you.
”
Because lying to impress someone
always ended so well.
“
I
thought if I showed up on the first day bearing coffee that I personally brewed
and handcrafted just for you, somehow I
’
d
score some brownie points.
”

“
Is that what you
’
re doing? Hoping to score
—”

“
Brownie points,
”
I shot out.
“
I
’
m hoping to score brownie points. Not
to score in general.
”

“
Right. I assumed that.
”
Of course he had. I needed some of
those coffee filters for my own mouth to keep the diarrhea of words trapped in.
“
If you
had
made this, what would you have written on the side?
”

“
4S, Ice, Am.
”
I laid out the formula for his order
in a methodic nature.

Leo
’
s feet slipped from his desk and he
slammed onto them as his chair sprung forward. It made me jump a little, which
was embarrassing, but not as embarrassing as if it had made me pee a little. I
’
d done that once before when Rick
dropped a box of ceramic mugs in the stockroom, and on a sliding scale, being a
little jumpy was infinitely better than being a little pissy.

“
Well, that
’
s incredibly disappointing. I hired
you because I was told of your exceptional creativity and innovative ideas. But
that coffee cup sounds like neither of those things. I would
’
ve at least expected a drawing on the
side of it.
”

“
I don
’
t typically draw on the cups, just in
the coffee.
”

“
You confuse me with your of
’
s, in
’
s, and on
’
s. The whole naked man thing
—
I still haven
’
t quite figured out your deal with
that.
”

Yeah,
me neither.

“
Anyway.
”
Leo took a long, slow pull from his
coffee. His Adam
’
s
apple lifted with the swallow and I imagined the frigid liquid sliding down his
throat felt a little like the burning of my insides as I watched him drink.
“
You should sit. I hear you had quite
an eventful weekend.
”

“
If rupturing ovarian cysts can be
classified as events.
”
I always likened events to things like movies or concerts, and certainly no one
would have purchased a ticket to witness anything that happened to me this
weekend. Well, the drug-induced rendition of
“
Like a Prayer
”
sung out loudly in my bathroom,
complete with hairbrush mic and yellow towel turban to simulate a blonde wig
might have sold a ticket or two. This was New York, after all. You could get
people to pay to watch all kinds of freaky things.

“
I
’
m sorry to hear about that. Sounds
awful.
”
Leo
’
s
blue eyes fell at the corners in empathy. Though he lacked the body parts
necessary to even begin to sympathize with the pain, I could tell he was
genuinely trying.
“
I
’
m sorry about your ovaries,
”
he continued, stuttering like the
letters of his words had his tongue all tangled.

“
I apologize for discussing my
reproductive organs with you on the first day.
”
I realized this wasn
’
t appropriate workspace conversation.
I
’
m sure I violated all kinds of sexual
harassment codes just by uttering the word
ovary
within the confines of his office. I readied for the lawsuit.

“
I don
’
t mind discussing your reproductive
organs, Julie.
”
Oh my God. He just looked at my boobs.
“
I
’
m just glad you
’
re feeling better. Is there anything
else you
’
d
like to discuss before we get started?
”

Was
that some sort of free pass to ask any question my feeble mind could conjure
up? Because it seemed pretty all encompassing. What color was his underwear?
No, too forward. Was he
wearing
any
underwear? No, that was even more direct. When he replaced the toilet paper
roll, did the paper go up and over, or under and out?

“
Julie?
”
Leo tried to draw me out with his
eyes again like he
’
d
done before in at the coffee shop.

“
I
’
m thinking.
”

“
About what?
”

I
ran the hem of my dress between my fingers to calm my nerves, focusing on the
familiar touch of the fabric.
“
I
’
m thinking if there is anything I
want to discuss before we get started. You just gave me an open invitation. I
’
m mulling it over.
”

“
That I did. Mull away.
”
He laughed, and sweet baby Jesus, it
was a good laugh. I
’
d
even throw in an adorable baby Moses, too, because it was just that good.
“
Come up with anything?
”

“
Have all of your other hires here
been previous stalker subjects? Or am I the first?
”

He
was mid-sip as I spoke. Coffee caught in his throat and he choked loudly to
force it down like it was solid and not pure, formless liquid.
“
Stalker subjects?
”

“
I just found out that you come into
my shop at least two times a week, Leo.
”

Luckily,
he smiled and maintained his relaxed posture, so I assumed I hadn
’
t completely thrown him for a loop.
He didn
’
t
appear as though he felt like he was being accused.
“
I wasn
’
t stalking you. I like their coffee.
It
’
s
on my route to work.
”

“
But you left your card.
”

“
Because I heard of that art exhibit a
few months back and thought you would appreciate it.
”

“
But how did you even know I worked at
the coffee house to begin with?
”

Ah.
Gotcha. Look at me going all Sherlock on him.

There
was a heavy pause. I knew he was selecting and arranging his words wisely,
something I needed to get better at doing. I
’
d fallen into the embarrassing habit
of letting them tumble out of my mouth the very second they materialized in my
brain.
Think, speak,
when the correct
way to do it was
think, process, analyze,
speak.
There was a lot of extra fluff that went into be a socially aware
person, fluff I wasn
’
t
sure I
’
d
ever totally embrace.

“
I first saw you at the coffee house
over a year ago, Julie.
”

What
the what?

I
swear I
’
ve
never had as much internal dialogue in my life as I what I
’
ve experienced since meeting Leo.
Maybe because he said things that elicited responses from me that really
shouldn
’
t
be uttered. Even much of what I
did
end up saying shouldn
’
t
be uttered. Maybe I should become mute and keep everything tucked up in there.
That seemed like a good option.

“
A year?
”
There went the vow of silence. I
’
d make a terrible monk, obviously for
more reasons than just the fact that I was prone to talking, but that was high
up on the list.

“
So that
’
s how I knew you worked there,
”
Leo interrupted, attempting to wrap
up our conversation in neat little bow.

But
that wasn
’
t
possible, because it sort of felt like he
’
d
just opened a can of worms. You know, those ones that spring out in long,
stretchy coils.
Surprise!
I
’
ve
known who you were all along! I
’
m
your secret admirer, Julie!

“
That honestly makes me a little
uncomfortable,
”
I admitted. My poor dress was now unraveling at the edge from my nervous
fiddling. I coiled a loose thread tightly around my thumb and felt the painful
throb as the circulation slowed.
“
I
think we should go back to talking about my reproductive organs.
”

“
Because
that
’
s
so much less uncomfortable than me admitting to having seen you before.
”

His
words struck me.
Seen
. That was all.
Not,
“
I
’
ve loved you for over a year now,
Jules,
”
or
“
I
’
ve been thinking of you since the
first day I laid eyes on you.
”
He
’
d
merely seen me at my place of work twelve months ago. That was totally
innocent. Nothing to take note of. I was officially the master of jumping to
conclusions.
Hop, skip, jump!

“
Anyway.
”
 
He twisted his neck back and forth, craning to loosen his tie.
“
Any more questions?
”

“
Are you sure you want to ask me that?
Because I can definitely come up with some.
”

“
You
’
re right. I take that back. My turn.
”