Jess managed to wake up 20 minutes before her alarm -- not out of diligence, of course, and she also wasn't what one would call a 'morning person.' Jess just never slept well. She reached over to the nightstand and grabbed her phone.
When she unlocked it, she was greeted by the selfie she took the night before with Jordan. Memories came rushing back all at once. "Jesus, I'm such a fucking idiot," Jess said to herself. She glanced at the trash can icon, then looked back up, her eyes drawn to the blue pixels gazing back at her. She zoomed in on his grinning face and thought,
Well, maybe not a total idiot.
After her thirty-minute morning doomscroll session, she finally rolled out of bed and threw a t-shirt on. She normally didn't mind walking around the apartment naked, but it was always slightly chilly in the mornings, and the baseboard heaters always took too long to warm up.
When she finished brushing her teeth in the bathroom, she wiped off her face with a nearby towel and looked in the mirror. She stepped back a bit so she could take in more of her body. The shirt she was wearing was about two sizes too big, so it masked her natural curves pretty well. And although her chest wasn't enormous like Angela's, it was still fairly noticeable underneath the shirt. When she saw her nipples poking through the shirt, she thought about her unzipped hoodie from last night and had a brief moment of panic, thinking
oh shit, did I wear a bra last night?
before remembering it was a strapless.
Breathing a sigh of relief, she slowly shook her head and walked out to the living room. She turned the dimmer switch, but not all the way.
It doesn't matter if I'm gonna work out, only crazies need full-on bright lights before 5 AM.
She grabbed a remote to turn on her speakers, hooked her phone up to them, and then put on some soft music. Pulling her shirt back off, she walked over to the center of the room. She stood between her couch and a full-length mirror and started some pilates work.
Working through her routine, she quietly muttered to herself, "How am I gonna explain last night to Angie? I mean, nothing happened, so I'm sure I can just tell her. But I mean,
did
nothing happen?" Jess found herself wondering if there'd been some vibes.
The way he kept looking at me, that can't just be- no, I'm sure it's nothing. Nah.
When she finished, she stood up and looked over herself in the mirror again. She knew she wasn't
un
attractive. She'd date; she'd had boyfriends. She also knew that there were white guys out there that fetishized black girls. But to Jess, Jordan hadn't seemed to give off that vibe. He hadn't tried 'relating' to her. He hadn't immediately identified himself as 'woke' or an 'ally,' or asked her which rappers she liked.
I wonder what kind of music he actually likes, though?
Shit, snap out of it,
Jess thought.
And of course the answer's metal, duh. That's what he plays! But, maybe he likes other things, too? I should ask him next time. Wait, what "next time" are you talking about, Jess?
She walked back to her bedroom, turned on the light, and grabbed her clothes for the day. Thankfully, her job was very casual when it came to dress code. She went ahead and picked out a pair of blue jeans and a yellow baby tee. Looking over at the boots from last night only served to remind her of how sore her ankles were from all the jumping she'd done. "Hell no am I wearing those!" she said with a chuckle. Then she added, "No way I'm doing that again," referring to the metal show in its entirety.
After a quick shower and an even quicker breakfast, Jess got dressed, fixed up her hair, opted instead for some comfy sneakers, reached for a jacket from the closet, and then... paused. She turned around and saw her zip-up hoodie flopped over the armrest of the couch, hastily discarded the night before. Suddenly, the thought of his hands holding her in place, leaning over her shoulder to hum in her ear, and then where she bumped into him: that warm, firm feeling on her back...
She dropped the jacket, walked to the couch, quickly threw on the hoodie and zipped it up. As she walked out the door, she rolled her eyes and sighed, "Fucking hell."
When Jess' computer teacher from middle school had told her how rich she would be if she went into the IT field, she'd stared at her in disbelief -- like, she literally couldn't believe her, since her teacher had been driving a '93 Tercel on three spare tires to school. When she went on to college, though, she'd had to pick a major. She'd remembered what that teacher had said, and -- against her own instincts -- had majored in Information Technology.
Lo and behold, Jess, too, drove a beat-up car -- well, truck, in this case -- to work. She'd hoped at the very least that this new promotion would come with a better parking spot. Sadly, it did not; she still had to vie for a decent spot in the multi-story carpark, and she still had to pay for it. To her credit, her truck only had one spare tire on it, not three.
Since she managed to show up a bit earlier than usual, she didn't have to fight quite as hard for a good spot; she even managed to park near the elevator, which was no small feat! Grabbing her badge and laptop from the passenger seat, Jess locked the truck, got in the elevator, and pressed the button for her company's floor. The nice things about EyeTea Works -- named so because the owners were hippy nerds that tried to be clever -- were that it was very laidback, and 2) mostly women. The downside was that it was small, and so it shared floorspace with another IT company that was not laidback, and ninety-eight percent men.
Jess hated to admit it to herself, but those men may have been why she'd attached herself to Angela. Angela drew all the stares and comments from the 'dudebros,' as Jess referred to them, so she could use her as a human shield.
The elevator doors opened to reveal Angie leaning against the wall opposite the elevator. She was waiting for Jess. "Hey," Angie said quietly, looking up from her phone. "Loretta wants to see you."
Jess couldn't hide her confusion.
She doesn't want to talk about last night?
Jess thought.
Kuhani's one of her favorite bands, I took a selfie with the bass player, told her I'd get home late; something's not right here.
"Any idea what for?" she asked. "Did she seem pissed?"
"No more than usual. Did you fuck something up?"
"Lately? Don't think so." Jess always found herself intimidated by Loretta, the operations manager for the team. She was a woman of few words, and had very little patience for bullshit. When it came to dress code, conduct, and all the HR-related stuff, she was very chill -- well, 'chill' in that she wouldn't bat an eye or have a negative thing to say about what someone was wearing, or if people were swearing in the office. If somebody made a mistake in operations, the few words she had for them were
cutting
. Jess was also keenly aware of the general rule: when the boss calls for you, don't keep her waiting. Jess turned left out of the elevator and made a bee-line for Loretta's desk.
"Hey!" Jess heard Angie call out behind her.
Without breaking stride, Jess turned her head. "Yeah?"
"Let's talk later, yeah?" Angela said with a wink.
Shit.
Jess made her way past the dudebro cubicles to EyeTea's corner of the floor. EyeTea actually occupied around a third of the total space, but because it was tucked away in the corner, she still had to ford the 'Asshole River' -- as she called it -- any time she wanted to get food, go outside, or go to the bathroom. Was it possible not every single one of the dudebros was an asshole? Sure. Had she met any of the non-assholes yet? Despite her having worked in this office for three and a half years, the answer remained 'no.' Mercifully, getting here early meant most of the Asshole River was devoid of assholes, so her journey to Loretta's desk would be interaction-free. Still, though, Jess kept her head up, kept her eyes looking straight ahead, and walked at a brisk, business-like pace out of habit.
Don't look like a victim, don't look weak,
Jess repeated in her mind.
Loretta's desk was in the very back corner of their section. It was surrounded by bookshelves and free-standing cabinets, fashioning a kind of makeshift office. Jess approached the opening in the shelves and knocked on some thin particleboard.
"Enter," said Loretta, in the even, commanding tone of someone who's busy with nine things at once. Once Jess crossed the threshold of the bookcases, Loretta finally looked up from her laptop. Her black micro-braids flowed down past her shoulder over a purple blouse with a loose, ruffled collar. Although her eyes were soft, like large, black almonds, she somehow managed to make them seem like they could pierce through to your brain. That may have had something to do with the fact that her eyes were set into a face that looked like it was chiseled from a solid block of deep ebony. Loretta had high cheekbones, an angular jawline, and wide, full lips that Jess swore had never curved above a horizontal line in her boss's entire life.
Jess cleared her throat. "Angela said you wanted to see me?"
"Yes," she replied curtly. Then she stood up and closed her laptop in one fluid motion. "First, I wanted to say congratulations on the promotion. As I said in my email, it's well-deserved."
