Chapter Nine - The Party

Ok, so I'm really excited about this chapter!! I'm hoping you guys will be surprised! I added a few twists and am very excited :D
Enjoy!!!!

Happy reading, gcg :)

Chapter 9
The Party


I know that it’s an ancient question – one that people have been asking since the beginning of time, without ever getting an answer – but I still have to ask it:
Why is that when we can’t find anything nice to wear, when it we really need to?
It was a few hours before the party and I hadn’t even decided what to wear or how I wanted to do my hair.
I had taken all my clothes out my closet and had spread them all over my bedroom. I had tried on every dress, shirt, pair of pants and skirt at least five times and I was on the verge of tears. I couldn’t believe that was happening to me. Plus, I had used up like half of my deodorant because I was sweating so much.
I wasn’t going through all this trouble because I thought that by some miracle I’d look drop dead gorgeous and attract every male at the party. My abilities to do that were almost always nonexistent and I was expecting them to remain that way. But I had to at least get noticed. I mean, how else would Calvin be able to see past my appearance and discover my inner beauty?
Inside my bedside table drawer I found my saviour: S had forgotten a copy of Cosmo. I started flipping through it like a maniac. Advice! I needed advice! Give me advice! “4 New Part Looks”, page 57. Perfect!
I turned to page 57. Immediately, I realised that I looked like the pale, miserable girls in the “Before” pictures, with frizzy hair and the lifeless expression. I looked the same as them. That much was obvious.
I should have realised it. I was the perfect example of “Before”. Unlike Rebecca, let’s say, and Paris – who were perfect examples of “After”. Nothing could change that. Or could this article maybe help me? I turned to the next page, to see what happened with my miserable doubles.
I was disappointed. Now they were smiling – under five tones of makeup and extreme hairstyles. The one blonde girl had an edgy haircut which I could never off. And another girl had so much makeup that it would have taken me hours to try to copy. I tried to look for a girl who I kind of resembled, and found a brunette with big brown eyes smiling back at me. Ok, at least she looked more normal. And her hair was something I could do myself.
I set to work on copying the “Mystery Girl” look, trying a smoky eye (to add intrigue) as opposed to my usual, black eye liner and double black mascara look.
After fifteen minutes, I raised my head to my dresser mirror to look at the final result of my whole face. Hmm, not bad, I thought. At least my eyes looked big. And I definitely had done a good job doing a smoky eye. I didn’t know if I should put on fake eyelashes like the article said. I didn’t want to look like too done up. And besides, my eyes lashes were really long thanks to Talika’s Eyelash Lipocils.
Next I set to work on doing my hair. I followed the tips to create loose waves which are “alluring and unpredictable” and after an hour, I was happy with the result. I still needed help with what to wear however.
“Why don’t you wear the sift dress with the contrasting trim from the Burberry London collection you bought last week?” Sarah said when I called her.
“You think?” I asked.
“Uh huh. Definitely. It looks gorgeous on you, and it has pockets, which we all know you love.”
“You don’t think it’s too plain?” I asked hesitantly.
“No, no, it’s definitely not too plain. But it is a little too PG for this event, don’t you think? Why don’t you wear that black Chanel dress you have with the deep v neckline?
“Hmm, okay then. I guess I’ll wear that one. But what accessories should I wear?”
“Um... let me think... Oh, k, wear the Bulgari long diamond earrings and the Calibre De Cartier watch, and for shoes... oh my god, wear the Banana Louboutin ones! Please, I beg you!”
“Hmm, that actually sounds good. K, will do. Thanks S, you’re a saviour!”
“You’re gonna look so hot! Calvin will definitely notice you.”
“Haha, thanks. What are you wearing?”
“I’m thinking my red DVF backless dress. But I’m not sure. I’m not too concerned.”
“Yea,” I said. “That’s cause you’re not in love. You don’t need to get your soul mate to notice you, and make him fall in love with you...”
“Oh, c’mon, stop that,” Sarah said. “You’re just nervous that’s all. Remember the horoscope? This is the big event that he’ll notice you at, so chill. Everything’s gonna be just fine.”
“Yea, that’s what you always say, but it doesn’t always turn out true” I said accusingly.
“Wear your Chanel dress, and you’ll have every guy in there drooling over you.”
“Yea, in another lifetime maybe.”
“J, seriously. K, I gotta go get ready. I’ll see you in an hour, my love.”
“Om my God, we only have an hour!?”
“Yes, which is plenty of time. Now stop obsessing and get dressed. See ya soon,” she said and hung up, leaving me alone to finish getting ready.



An hour later, I was entering the Waldorf=Astoria lobby in my black Chanel dress, water snake skin Louboutins, and Louis Vuitton Sunset BLVD clutch in Rose Florentin. I had touched up my hair and makeup on the way, so I felt confident that I looked pretty good. Obviously, I wasn’t expecting to have every guy drooling over me, but thanks to the dim lighting, I was optimistic that I’d look pretty good.
Feeling a little self-conscious, I entered the ballroom. And I had to admit that Paris and London had done a good job of transforming the usually sophisticated ballroom giving it a more romantic, contemporary air.
It looked even more beautiful, red and black roses where everywhere – on the tables, in the alcoves set into the oval walls, even in the center of the fabulous eight-tiered cake, by the dance floor. Their heady smell filled the room, and when added to the seemingly endless supply of Perrier-Jouet, it was enough to leave a girl positively giddy.
The half of the ballroom that was the dance floor was still empty, even though there was a live orchestra playing softly in the background. In the other half of the room, guests were talking, either sitting at the tables or standing by the bar enjoying some hors d'oeuvre.
I looked around for Calvin. Where was he? I was here – with my bright inner beauty. We were ready.
“Isn’t it gorgeous?” Sarah asked, appearing at my side with Derek and James, who looked very smart in their black suits (both from the latest Hugo Boss Black collection, if I wasn’t mistaken).
“Almost as gorgeous as you S,” James said, exchanging his empty crystal goblet for a full one.
“Will you stop it already?” Sarah asked laughing.
He winked at her and snagged a smoked salmon canapé from a passing waiter.
“You look hot Jess,” Sarah said turning to me.
“Thanks, I went with Chanel after all,” I said and then changed the subject. “Where’s John?”
“He’s over there talking to his secretary, Vanessa. We’re waiting till he gets a little tipsy before talking to him.”
“Haha, good I plan,” I said.
“Oh, look. There’s Amanda! Let’s go see if we can pump some information from her,” James said excitedly.
“Yea, let’s go,” Sarah agreed.
“You guys go,” Derek said, “I have to go to the washroom, so I’ll catch you later.”
I was under the impression that Derek was getting a little bored of this whole Sherlock Holmes game. But I definitely wouldn’t say that for S and James. The two left laughing, while Derek started making his way to the washrooms. I was left alone and I started to panic. I didn’t want to look like a loner.
I quickly decided to go the washroom as well. I figured that on the way, I could check to see if Calvin had arrived yet. Maybe he was just arriving and we’d meet in the hallway outside the ballroom.


When Calvin saw me he’d be stunned. He would look at me a little shocked, as if seeing me for the first time. He’s mutter that he didn’t recognize me right away. Perhaps because of the lighting. Or perhaps of the tight fitting black dress, or my hair. He wouldn’t know exactly.
Then, we’re just stand there, Calvin and I. We’d stare into each other’s eyes more and more intently. In the end, he’d ask me if I remembered that time when I first started working at Anderson’s, when... I’d tell him that of course I remembered. And then, we wouldn't need to talk about it anymore. We both knew we were soul mates, and that we were meant to be.
Calvin would take my hand and we’d start walking towards the dance floor, taking light steps, looking only at each other. And in the ballroom people would be saying: Look at what a lovely couple they make! They’re meant for each other! Then, in the crowd admiring us, I’d spot Rebecca, with tears in her eyes.
I’d say nobly that I hoped she wasn’t upset because of us. At first, Calvin wouldn’t understand who I was talking about. Rebecca who? Oh, yes... her. And then he’d say that people can’t control their true feelings, and that when love was involved, there was no use in resisting.


I walked in to the women’s washrooms which, thankfully, were empty. A quick look in the mirror brought me back to reality.
I remembered the “Before” and “After” pictures in Cosmo and wondered why I thought I looked as good as the “After” model at home. I regretted not wearing the fake eye lashed because my eyes didn’t look so big after all. And I probably should have put a bit more eye shadow on, but at the time I thought that a more natural look was more flattering. Big mistake. As least my hair looked pretty good. Thanks to its fullness and natural curly texture, it had managed to stay in loose curls, cascading over my shoulders and down the upper part of my back.
Just then, I heard laughter and then the door open, and I quickly made my way to the back of the washrooms, where it was more private. I heard some girls come in and unzip their purses. I could hear compacts and other makeup bottles being placed on the counter as the girls were talking.
“God, look at my hair! Please pass me your hair brush!”
“But you look amazing!”
“Stop it! I look awful!”
“K, I have some bobby pins and a “bumpit”. If you want I can give them to you. But in my opinion, your hair looks amazing just the way it is. I swear!”
I immediately recognized who they were. Paris and London. Great! Now I’d have to sit here and listen to all their bs, until they left. There was no way I’d come out of hiding with them there.
How much time can someone spend on touching up? Isn’t there a point in which you can brush your hair up to before you start damaging your hair follicles? After what seemed like eighty years, I was about to come out of hiding just so I could warn them about the side effects of brushing their hair. Besides, I was getting bored standing there listening to them. Plus, Calvin might have already showed up.
“I hope Ben comes tonight. If he does, I have a feeling that he’ll ask me to dance,” Paris said with confidence.
I took a step back. Maybe this wasn’t the best time to appear after all.
“Are you kidding?” London said. “Of course he’ll come. He is head over heels in love with you, everyone can see that!”
“Oh my God, Oh my God, Oh my God. I can’t wait! I’m so excited!”
“Speaking of love, did you hear about Calvin and Rebecca?”
“Oh, yea, I heard. It’s so stupid!”
Whoa, now we’re talking! What did they know that I didn’t? Maybe they were talking about the fact that Calvin and Rebecca broke up. Couldn’t they be more specific? Who wanted to break up – him or her? And how did it happen? I wanted all the details!
“Do you know who’s in love with Calvin?” Paris asked. “And I really mean in love, not just a crush. I’m talking head over heels in love.”
“Who?” London asked holding her breath.
“Jessica. Jessica Brown!” Paris exclaimed.
Oh, fuck! How the hell did she know? That was supposed to be a secret. Oh, God! How embarrassing. My life was over.
“Oh...” London said carelessly. “That’s old news. Everyone knows that. It’s like the joke of the department. The only thing I have to say is: Good luck!”
They cackled loudly, touched up their makeup once more, and then left.
God, I hated them so much! I can’t believe they were talking about me. Why couldn’t they mind their own business and not talk about other people behind their backs?
Immature and shallow, is how Calvin would describe them – when we’d take a break from dancing. People who only care about their appearance. Calvin would explain to me that normally, people like Paris and London are the types of people which we have to pity, because what did they know about life? What did they know about love and soul mates?
I gathered what was left of my confidence and I opened the door. I left the washroom without looking in the mirror because at that moment, a look in the mirror was not a good idea.


In the meantime, the ballroom had filled up. Sadly, I still couldn’t find Calvin anywhere. I spotted a few brave co-workers dancing to a Barry White song. Other than that, everyone else was talking by the bar or munching away at the tables by the dance floor in their cliques, as predicted.
The only exception to that were Sarah, Derek and James who were talking to John. He seemed to be in a good mood. Pleased, to be exact. He was probably flattered that he was suddenly getting so much attention from three of his employees.
I was ready to make my way there but first I wanted to grab a drink at the bar. I spotted the punch on a table by the dance floor, and decided to go drown my sorrows with something lighter instead.
“Make sure you leave some seeds for us,” said an all too familiar raspy voice behind me. “Don’t be greedy.”
Ben appeared at my side and smirked. I decided not to take his words too seriously. Not that we were even or anything, but we were at a party. And besides, he’d shown a shred of humanity when he saved me in the kitchen earlier. Plus, although I didn’t want to admit it, he actually looked really good in his dark grey Paul Smith suit. It fit him like a glove, and the color was the exact same as his eyes. Not that I’d ever thought of the colour of his eyes or anything. Really.
“Someone ate them all,” I replied. “I don’t know why but there isn’t a single seed in the punch.”
“Suspecting anyone?” he asked. “My guess is that it was one of the Anderson employees. That lecturer looks guilty. The one chewing like a cow. What’s his name again?”
I turned to my right and saw Giggles (our accounting lecturer) walk up to a waiter and snag three prosciutto wrapped grilled scallops without a trace of self-consciousness.
“Giggles. Er... Steven Arlberg, I mean.”
Ben laughed. And this time it actually sounded like a genuine laugh, not like the other times. Plus, he laughed with something I said. Maybe he had a bit of a sense of humour after all.
“Why are all people in accounting always so serious?” he asked. “Have you noticed that? It’s like they never laugh. The other day, I was joking around and said: When do accountants laugh out loud? When somebody asks for a raise! Everyone laughed, except him. Do you think not having a sense of humour is one of the qualifications needed to get an accounting job?”
That was actually pretty funny. Sarah and I could have thought of that. I had to admit that he was actually funny.
“Haha, probably,” I said laughing.
“It’s like that joke: What’s the difference between a lawyer and an accountant? The accountant knows he’s boring,” Ben said laughing. “Or there’s one that goes: How was copper wire invented? Two accountants were arguing over a penny.”
That was actually hilarious. So much so that I started laughing like an idiot. He smiled at me, a kind, genuine smile, and then he took my hand and led me onto the dance floor. Of course, the band immediately switched into a Frank Sinatra standard. “I’m not a good dancer,” I squeaked, as his hand found my waist.
“No worries. I’ll lead. Is that ok?”
I was suddenly aware of close we were standing to one another. And all I could do was nod, numbly, my voice deserting me altogether.
My memories of that dance are limited to the way Ben moved, looked, and smelled. For some reason I suddenly felt self-conscious. Had I put on too much perfume? Not enough maybe? I had just bought the new Chanel Chance, and I wasn’t sure how strong it was. Not that it mattered how I smelt or looked. It was just Ben, after all. I had to admit he was a good dancer. He seemed to move with grace, the results of private classes I assumed. I wondered if he and Claire had gone to classes together. I asked him this, because for some reason, I was also curious to find out what exactly was his relationship with Claire.
“Haha, is it that obvious?” he grinned, and I found myself lost in his gorgeous grey eyes. “Well Claire has been dancing since she was little, so she didn’t have to go to any classes. But I did when our mom got re-married. She wanted to have the father-daughter dance with me since her dad passed away a few years ago. So I didn’t really have a choice. I wasn’t exactly a fan, but I guess it paid off if you noticed,” he said.
“Wait, isn’t Claire your girlfriend?” I asked confused, trying to ignore the feelings his warm breath on my cheek brought forth.
“My girlfriend!?” he asked taken aback. “God, no. Claire’s my younger sister. My only sister actually. She’s twenty five, same age as you, and an incredible chef.”
“Oh,” I said, unexplainably relieved.
“Haha, I can’t believe you thought Claire was my girlfriend. God! That’s way too funny. We wouldn’t last a day together. Although I do owe her, big time. She’s the one who got me that apartment. Hey! Wait a sec... are you the girl who went through my boxes?” he asked incredulously.
“What? No!” I said feeling my face turn red.
“Hey, you’re blushing. Oh my God, it was you! Wasn’t it? I can ask Claire, so don’t lie!”
“K, I might have been curious to see who my neigh neighbour was. And with good reason; the last tenant turned out to be a stalker. So I just wanted to see who I’d share the 15th floor with. Besides, I had just opened a box when your sister appeared and scared the crap out of me!” I said.
Ben chuckled and buried his head in my hair, taking a deep breath while doing so.
“You smell nice, by the way,” he said.
“You too,” I replied, my voice barely above a whisper.
“And you’re funny,” he added.
He leaned back and looked at me, and for a moment my breath caught in my throat. Suddenly it seemed that Ben’s face filled my whole vision. All I could feel and smell was him.
I was so caught up in the moment, I didn’t even notice when Calvin entered the room. I only became aware of his presence when he walked right by the table Ben and I were dancing next to.


And I guess I stared at him too obviously. The only thing I know is that I stopped talking and forgot everything that had to do with accountants. My God, he looked like he has just finished shooting an Armani ad! What a babe! And he appeared to be at the party alone. That was a good sign.
“From what I see, it’s true,” Ben said after a short pause.
“What is?” I asked, tearing my eyes from Calvin.
“That you have the hots for that guy. Cal or whatever.”
“I do not,” I winced. “Who told you that?”
I tried to relax and look calm but inside, I was cursing Paris and London. I bet they had gone around telling everyone. And what if – Oh, God – what if Calvin knew too?
But he didn’t even look in my direction. If he knew it, he’d look at me. Even for a quick second. Right?


“Do you want me to give you some friendly advice?” Ben asked, and suddenly he seemed to have gone back to his usual, cocky self. “Don’t stare so much. Cause you look really stupid.”
I didn’t even dignify that with an answer. I just looked at him. What the hell was that all about? Clearly I was mistaken – maybe he did have a sense of humour. And he could be nice. Sometimes. But deep down, he was a cocky jerk; just like I had thought from the beginning.
I let go of him and took a step back, putting some distance between us. I wasn’t going to stay any longer.
“Good luck,” Ben said with a cruel smile.
And then he disappeared. And I started to make my way towards Sarah, Derek and James. It seemed that John had ditched them, cause now they were by themselves.
“Where is your poor victim?” I asked.
They pointed towards the dance floor, where I spotted John dancing with his secretary Vanessa, who appeared to be having the time of her life.
He was dancing with the air of a professional, with confidence and poise. Vanessa on the other hand, was all over the place, not following the beat of the music. It was a scary sight.
“At the rate she’s going, she’s gonna knock him over,” James said. “He’ll fall and hit his head, fall into a comma and then we’ll never find out if he’s sleeping with Amanda.”
“You guys didn’t ask him about that?” I asked. “I could have sworn I saw him smiling at you guys.”
“John’s teasing us,” Sarah explained disappointed. “He knows that we find this amusing. That’s why he’s dragging it on.”
“Why, what did he say to you?”
“That we have to be more discrete if we want to be like Sherlock Holmes. That he has no intention of helping us. If that isn’t cruel, then I don’t know what is!”
At that moment, my eyes found Calvin once again. He wasn’t alone anymore. He was walking towards the dance floor – holding Rebecca’s hand.
They looked happier than ever. I felt sick when I saw him pause, brush her blonde hair behind her ear and kiss her cheek.
When had she gotten here? (And how did she get that Versace dress? It wasn’t in stores yet!) And what were they doing together? Couldn’t they decide if they were a couple or not?
But what did it matter anymore? They were together. And I was here. Alone.
“Look over there,” I said grabbing Sarah’s arm.
“Where?” she asked.
I pointed towards the dance floor, where Calvin and Rebecca were dancing, looking like they were competing on frickin Dancing with the Stars. Ok, maybe they didn’t exactly look like professional dancers, but they looked good together – and they seemed to be having the time of their life.
“Fuck,” was all Sarah said.
“And there goes my horoscope,” I said bitterly.
“Oh, yea. Shit. Sorry, Jess,” she said.
Sarah seemed a little distracted for some reason. Maybe she was sick of me obsessing over Calvin. The only sure thing was that she wasn’t as attentive as she was before. Not that I can blame her. I mean, why did I deserve to have a best friend? I didn’t deserve anything.


I went back to my sanctuary, the washroom. There I could be alone with my misery – and wait. I wasn’t gonna stay at this party for another second, there was no reason to. When it wouldn’t be too obvious, I’d sneak out to the coat check to grab my coat so I could go home and curl up in my bed.
I assumed that Calvin knew all about my feelings towards him. I’m sure he and Rebecca thought it was hilarious and had laughed about it. It’s probably what they were doing right now before they move on to more serious matters, such as their wedding, for example.
I’m sure Rebecca would want to go all out for the wedding. A princess cut Vera Wang wedding gown and a tiara from Tiffany’s, a eight-tier cake with the plastic figurines on the top, and the whole works. A wedding everyone girl dreamed of.
Here we have even more proof that I’m not the typical girl. I had never dreamt of such a wedding. I thought it was more romantic to elope somewhere private, like an island in the Mediterranean or the Caribbean, just like they do in movies sometimes. (There’s no stressing out, plus you can wear whatever you like; I already had a Versace I’d like to wear, in mind – one which I could definitely wear at another function.)
Anyways. Why was I even thinking about that stuff? I definitely didn’t see a wedding with me as the bride happening anytime soon. Rebecca had Calvin – and I had my depression for the rest of my life.


The moment I went to leave the private area of the washrooms – to go look for S and tell her I was going home – I heard Paris and London come in again. Of course; they had to do touch ups again.
Ben had, of course, asked Paris to dance. And not just once, but at least six times. And, of course, she had accepted, and now it was obvious that they were meant to be.
When I went back to the ballroom to look for Sarah, I was shocked to see that Paris had been telling the truth. It seemed that the two had hit it off. She and Ben were intertwined on the dance floor, dancing like they were the only two people in the room. The only thing I could do is congratulate them. They were, without a doubt, made for each other – since they were both cocky and mean.
I spent a good ten minutes looking for Sarah but I couldn’t find her anywhere. After another five minutes of searching, I decided to give up and head home. I’d tell her everything tomorrow. The only thing I wanted to do was sneak into the coat check room, grab my coat and go home.


When I went to the coat check, I found more than just racks of the latest jackets and shawls. Just as I was about to take my black Roberto Cavalli bolero, I found Sarah. She and James were hiding behind a rack (with a gorgeous light blue Ralph Lauren shawl) against the wall.
What were they doing? And why did they look all flushed and happy?
“I think we like each other,” Sarah explained.
“Seriously?” I asked confused. “Who?”
“Each other, of course. Isn’t it obvious?”
No, it definitely wasn’t. But the more I thought about it, the more it made sense. This must happened the past few weeks I’ve been focussing with my own problems, and I hadn’t noticed anything.
“Don’t worry,” Sarah said basking in pure delight. “We hadn’t realised it till tonight.”


Suddenly, everything made sense. That’s why Sarah (who under normal circumstances falls in love with someone different every day) hadn’t declared a new crush after John Sr. That’s why all night she seemed distracted and in her own head. And basically: that’s why she’d spent so much time on the whole John thing. Because of James – with whom we worked in the same department!
I was so happy for both of them. To be honest: I wanted to be happy for them. Sarah was my best friend, and was like the sister I never had, and James was one of very few great guys I knew. And if they were meant to be together, it was because they were both kind hearted and nice people.
The only problem is that I was so disappointed with everything with Calvin, that it was hard for me to be genuinely happy for anything.
“Are you leaving already?” Sarah asked. “Why?”
“I have a headache,” I said – she didn’t need to feel bad, there was absolutely no reason.
“Are you sure?” she asked, concerned.
“Absolutely,” I replied. “I promise. I have a headache, nothing else.”
After a little while, I was entering my apartment building.
“Good evening, Miss Brown,” Sergio greeted me suppressing a yawn.
“Hey, Sergio. I didn’t know you’re working the night shift today,” I said.
“I changed tomorrow’s day shift with Mitch because it’s my daughter’s birthday tomorrow and we are throwing her a surprise birthday party,” he said smiling.
“Aww, that’s awesome Sergio. She’s turning ten right?”
“Yes, she is. Unfortunately, she’s discovered Hanna Montana, and she wants to be just like her. That girl will drive me crazy!”
“Haha! Hanna Montana? You better be careful Sergio, cause next thing you know, your little girl will be rebelling, pretending to be a “woman”,” I said.
“I hope not! I can’t afford it!”
“Oh, Sergio, you’re too funny. Thanks for making me laugh. I needed it. Anyways, I’m heading up, have a good night,” I said.
“Goodnight, Miss Brown.”
I walked to the elevator and saw that one was just closing.
“Hold the elevator please,” I call out, walking briskly to catch it. As soon as I got there, the doors closed. Shit! I thought, but then I heard the familiar ping and the doors opened.
No. No.
This is a bad dream.
Ben was standing alone in the elevator, with the top three buttons of his shirt undone and his sleeves rolled up to expose his strong forearms. His tie and cufflinks, I notice, had disappeared.
Before I could stop myself I took a startled step backwards. Ben put his BlackBerry away, tilted his head to one side and gave me a quizzical look.
“Are you getting into the elevator?” he said mildly.
Shit!
“Yes,” I said and walked onto the elevator with stiff legs. “Yes, I am.”
The doors closed and we began to travel upwards in silence. I had a knot of tension in my stomach. I was surprised he was alone. I wonder what happened with Paris. I’m sure she would have gladly come over.
“So, um...good party,” he said awkwardly, causing me to look up from my Louboutins.
“Uh... yea,” I replied.
God, I was so tired. All I wanted was to take off my shoes and crawl in bed. Why the hell was the elevator taking so long? I didn’t want to have to talk to him anymore.
The elevator stopped at floor five and the doors opened, but no one got on.
“So, did you have a good time?” Ben asked as we started travelling up again.
“Absolutely, I said at once,” giving him a fake smile. “You?”
“Definitely,” he said, his mouth, for some reason, twitching.
I quickly took my BlackBerry out, pretending to check my messages. I didn’t care if I seemed rude – I didn’t want to talk to him anymore. I was afraid I might slap him. Or cause him some kind of physical harm.
“I better find your love and I better find your heart I better find your love and...” Drake’s voice interrupted my thoughts. I stared confused at my BlackBerry Bold’s display screen wondering why the screen didn’t display who was calling me.
“Hey,” I heard Ben say. Incredulously, I turned to face him, and saw him talking to his BlackBerry.
Un-fucking-believable.
My sworn enemy had the same ringtone as me. He turned to me and winked, still listening to person on the other line.
Suddenly, the elevator stopped and the doors opened. Thankful, I quickly walked away, leaving Ben alone.
I had just turned the key in my lock, when I felt something behind me. I quickly turned around.
“Didn’t you forget something?” Ben asked, his mouth twitching.
“Um, no... I don’t think so,” I said confused.
“Really? Cause I definitely think you did,” he said.
I continued to look at him confused. I guess he got the hint, cause he continued.
“You never told me you were a Drake fan,” he said.
“I’m sorry, what?”
“I only know because your phone was ringing a few days ago at work, and I happened to be walking by your office and heard your ringtone,” he explained.
“Oh, I see. Yea, I like Drake. So?”
“Well, I was wondering if maybe you’d like to go to Bungalow 8 sometime,” he said.
Whoa. Bungalow 8 has topped the Manhattan club scene for many years in a row now. And considering Manhattan is famous for having some of the best clubs in the world, that was not something to be taken lightly. With its palm trees, concierge, and inevitable NO VACANCY sign, Bungalow 8 created an atmosphere which was a combination of the Beverly Hills Hotel and old Hollywood. The place only held about one hundred people, and guests had to the hottest thing in order to cross the threshold, so getting past the bouncers was considered a great accomplishment.
“I’m serious. I mean I know you think I’m an ass and everything but still...” Ben continued, looking a little self-conscious.
“I don’t get how Bungalow 8 has anything to do with Drake. I highly doubt he’d ever be performing there. Besides, it’s like impossible to get invites for Bungalow 8. Even Hollywood starts have trouble getting in one of Manhattan’s coveted hot spots,” I said playing for time, trying to figure out what he was up to.
“Well, Drake is on tour now, but he won’t be in New York for a while and I figured we’d go listen to some music somewhere nice first, and then maybe check out one of his shows some other time,” he said.
“Well, I’m actually really busy, so I think I’ll pass. Goodnight,” I said as I walked in my apartment.
He opened his mouth to say something and I quickly shut the door. I know it was immature but I didn’t care.
I quickly looked from the peephole to see if he’d left. He stood there frozen for what seemed like eternity. Then, he looked right at the peephole, his grey eyes with an unreadable expression, and after a few seconds, walked away.
What in the world was that all about?