Chapter Seven: Becca
Welcome to Chapter Seven of Xexie’s serialised office romance. Click here if you need to catch up on Chapter Six, where Jack goes on a night out with friends. Enjoy the read, and let us know your thoughts in the comment section!
"Thank God." Vivian whispers in my ear. And by that, I’m guessing she means we’ve finally been spared from Lucy’s minute-by-minute account of her breakup as a group of guys approach and offer to buy us drinks.
And not just any group of guys. Junior doctors.
By the way we were dressed tonight, it was only a matter of time. Vivian was very directive and bossy about our outfit choices. Femme fatale, she said. So here we all are - red lips, cocktail dresses, and high heels. I would never have dared to wear this one-shoulder, black midi dress with a side split that’s too high for comfort on a weeknight. And believe it or not, I'm the underdressed one.
I shoot Vivian a look as if to say that her Singaporean, tiger mother would certainly approve of our new party.
And even more unbelievable than that, the guys who approach us could be TV doctors.
Lucy concurs with me as she quickly whispers to us, “They’re cute.”
Not that I wasn't enjoying her company and being a supportive friend to her but even I have to say, their fortuitous arrival has completely changed the mood at Table Debbie Downer. It certainly helps that they could each feature in a fireman’s calendar. One of them, lets call him Mr July, even has biceps almost bursting out of his collared shirt.
The guys tell us that they’re attending a medical conference at the ICC.
“So you guys aren’t from here?” Lucy asks the group but mostly directing her question at Mr July.
“We’re from Melbourne.” He replies.
I’m not sure if it’s disappointment in Lucy’s eyes because knowing her, she’s probably already planned three steps ahead with Mr July, whose name is actually Todd. I wonder if she’s trying to envisage her next three months, how to manage the long-distance and interstate travels before deciding to uproot her life and move to Melbourne. By Christmas, they’ll be assembling their first flatpack together. She’s always been a relationship kind of girl.
I glance over at Vivian who rolls her eyes as if she’s thinking the same thing. But we both acknowledge that Lucy’s mood has perked up since our first cocktail. We give each other a little up-nod. Mission accomplished! Cocktails and eye candy really can help a girl out of a funk.
Now that our group has doubled in size, it’s the perfect time to leave. I don’t have Vivian’s stamina for late nights. Nor Lucy’s situationship excuse to warrant being here. And unlike them, I have work tomorrow and all I can think of right now are the tasks that Jack Cohen wants me to do. His very, very long list of tasks.
The compulsion to excel is not a new thing. Not that I need Jack Cohen’s particular affirmations but the fact that we're being disbanded next week in favour of his own handpicked team means that I'll be back doing market segmentation reports for Lexi. Which about three weeks ago, I would have jumped at in a heartbeat. But working on the taskforce was the best thing I ever did.
Apart from the fact that Jack Cohen makes me self-conscious, I don’t terribly dislike the guy. I suppose his work ethic is admirable. And he's progressive.
Driven.
Intelligent.
Generous.
And patient.
My mind hasn't changed on his being a complete womaniser but professionally, he's good at what he does. I’m sure he’s also good at being a womaniser given his charm and insanely good looks.
As I look to Mr June, July, and August sitting across from me, I would even dare to say that Jack Cohen could feature in this month’s Fireman calendar. He is equally as handsome, if not more so.
Great. The reason I’m completely disinterested in these guys is because I have Jack Cohen on the brain. What a terrible inconvenience this is.
But it’s not the reason why I want to stay on the taskforce. I've developed skills and proven myself and I can't stop wanting to do more, to grow professionally. I don't know if I can go back to the old daily grind. Maybe it's a sign that I've outgrown my role at Social Maps and need to move on elsewhere. Perhaps it’s time to get onto the job sites and look around.
"Another cocktail for you?" The guy with facial hair who I’ve dubbed as Mr June leans in and points at my nearly finished martini.
"I'm good, thank you." I whisper back.
I guess there's no point alluding to this going anywhere other than two people meeting at a bar who likely won't ever meet again.
"I'm heading off soon." I tell Mr June.
"That’s a shame. We only just got here." He tells me.
"It’s too bad that it's a Tuesday night and not a Friday.” Classic line. It’s not you. It’s Jack Cohen’s fault.
“What would you have done differently if it were a Friday?” He asks me.
“I would have stayed an extra ten minutes." I joke.
"You can’t spare another ten minutes? Ten minutes could change your life…”
Mr June is quite charming. "I guess I'll never find out." I tell him. I can see the temporary sadness in Mr June’s eyes as his plus one of the group bails on him. But I’m too distracted to really care.
"Unlucky me." Mr June says graciously. He leaves to get drinks for the rest of the group.
I lean into Vivian sitting on my other side and tell her that I'm bailing. "Early start tomorrow."
"Do you want me to walk you home?" That’s sweet of Vivian to think of me but I can’t let her leave Lucy now that she’s finally having a good time.
"Stay with Lucy." And her Mr July.
I don my coat, grab my tiny handbag, and walk towards the exit. Just before I make it out onto George St, I hear my name being called out, so I turn around.
To my complete surprise, I see Jack Cohen flagging me down from one of the tables situated in the corner. Am I imagining things? Did my thinking of him just now somehow summoned him out of thin air? I take in the whole scene and recognise Richie Parkinson and see another well-dressed, attractive man sitting with them.
I can already feel my heartbeat increase as my legs move towards their table. Did I just leave a table of three attractive men for another table with three attractive men, the entire spring season, on my fireman’s calendar? There is something strangely cosmic about the timing on this. Just a few months ago, there was literally nobody worth looking at.
“Hey guys.” I say casually. I quickly glance at the direction where Vivian and Lucy are seated to see if they can spot me and from this vantage point, they wave at me.
Despite the cool Sydney evening, the heat in my body rises with self-consciousness as Jack Cohen eyes me up and down. I can feel myself start to sweat. Why are guys never subtle about checking out a girl? I guess I can’t blame him completely. Any guy would be defenceless against the high slit in this midi dress. Femme fatale, indeed.
“Hey Becca.” Richie smiles at me. He then introduces their mate. “This is Marcus, my friend from Usyd. Becca works with us. From the data team.”
“Nice to meet you.” I tell Marcus.
“Likewise.” Marcus replies and smiles at Jack Cohen. Jack looks at Richie. Richie raises an eyebrow at his friend, who just smiles at me.
“I was just leaving.” I tell them as I gesture towards the exit before the weirdness gets any worse.
“Jack was just leaving too. Right, Jack?” Marcus says looking at Jack.
“Yes. That’s right. Big day tomorrow.” He says in agreement.
“I know all about this big day. It’s one of the reasons why I’m leaving at this hour. I blame you, Jack. You and your big list of things to do tomorrow.” I poke my tongue at him. Am I being playful now? I blame the martini.
I look up to find everyone smiling at me.
“I’ll have to make it up to you then.” He looks at me as he stands up and puts on his dark grey coat.
I quickly look away because I can feel my cheeks burning.
My heart is racing even faster now. My semi-boss is watching us and all I can feel is the dopamine surging through my body.
I say goodbye to Marcus and Richie as Jack follows me out the exit.
I quickly glance back at my friends and manage to wave to Vivian as we leave. She sees me leaving with Jack. I shrug my shoulders briefly as if to say, why not? This night is turning out so differently to what I had expected.
The chilly breeze immediately hits me in the face as we step out onto George Street.
Standing in front of the Bridge Street Light Rail stop together, I can feel the electricity between. My neurotic brain is firing a million questions at me. Do I smell bad? Is he feeling it too, or is it just my imagination? Do I want to sleep with Jack Cohen?
Calm the heck down, I remind myself. “I’m fifteen minutes’ walk this way.” I gesture towards the South.
He smiles and says, “I’m heading that way too. I’ll walk you home.”
His response makes me all giddy inside.
“Where’s your apartment?” I ask out of curiosity. Genuine curiosity. I am definitely not implying that I want to check it out or suggest that we make a pit stop. Definitely not.
“Darling Square.” He answers and then adds, “Why, do you wanna see it?” He smirks.
The nerve of that guy to call this out for exactly what it is! Sexual tension.
“You wish!” I tell him as I give him a playful shove.
I suddenly want to know everything there is about him.
"Okay! I believe you." He says with his hands in the air.
"It's called small talk. I'm sure you're very well versed in the art." I sneer.
"What are you implying, Ms. Fuller? I am not as liberal with invitations to my apartment as you think I am." He tells me. Wow. He is good at this. I could almost believe him.
“And what are you implying about me? That I would be so easily persuaded to "check out" your apartment?”
“Not what I’m implying at all.” He replies seriously.
“A decent guy would ask me to dinner first.” This is of course a joke. Jack Cohen is far from the dinner date kind of guy. And I’m not actually goading him to ask me to dinner.
Jack suddenly goes quiet.
Did I just insult the guy, suggesting that he’s not a decent person?
I manage to try and fill in the silence. “I wasn’t suggesting anything other than you're skill at...”
“Being charmant? Or was it that I was tall, dark, and handsome?" He cheekily interjects.
Having repressed what is clear to me as a raging attraction for the guy, I glance at his mouth, and down his chest. Even more than wanting to know what kind of movies he watches, what kind of music he listens to, and what kind of books he reads, right now, I just want to know what's under that coat.
"All of the above." I say matter-of-factly. Now I don’t even hide the fact that I want to scale him like a tree.
Jack leans in closer to me.
Suddenly we stop walking.
I breathe heavily as though something big is about to happen. I think something big is about to happen.
I take another breath as he draws closer…