by Bo Reid
Serendipity: Hey, Bitch, answer your phone. I need you.
Keshia: On a date, fuck off Dip.
Serendipity: I locked myself out of my apartment and need you to bring my extra key.
Keshia: Get the manager to open it.
Serendipity: He is out till tomorrow, please just come by after your date.
Keshia: No, I'm getting lucky.
Keshia: Call Mom, or stay the night at Karma's, if you really really need me I'll come by later, but like later later cause I'm getting laid.
I groan and set my phone down on the counter, huffing out my frustrations with my sister.
"No luck?" Malcolm asks.
"She's on a date, and getting laid is more important than me having somewhere to sleep tonight," I tell him.
"How about we eat, and that will give you time to come up with a new plan," he offers, handing me an empty plate.
"Okay," I sigh.
He steps aside, and behind him, I see lasagna -- not the frozen kind either -- and garlic bread, salad, and even fresh-cut fruit.
"Okay, does your Mom also make your food and drop it off weekly, or do you know how to cook?" I ask as I put two pieces of garlic bread onto my plate.
Malcolm’s laugh vibrates through my body, and I try not to shiver, "my mom taught me how to cook when I was little, we cooked dinner together almost every night before I moved out. I like cooking, takes my mind off of things, brings back good memories with my mom, and I'm pretty good at it."
"I'll be the judge of that," I remark as I pile salad and fruit onto my plate.
"Looking forward to your review," he says with a wink, then motions to the living room.
"Sorry no kitchen table," he says.
"That's fine," I say and move into the living room, taking a seat on the floor, and using the coffee table to set my plate down. I cross my legs under the table and wait for Malcolm to sit down. He hands me a bottle of cold water, and a napkin before sitting down on the couch and setting his plate on the coffee table.
"TV or no?" he asks, holding up the remote.
"Whatever you normally do is fine, I don't mind either way."
He clicks the TV on, but turns the volume down, turning on some show about mechanics working on upgrading cars and stuff like that. We eat in silence for a few minutes, as the guys on the TV start on a custom paint job for someone with far too much money.
"So, what are your other options for getting into your apartment?" Malcolm finally voices my concern.
"Well, nothing. My Mom has a key too but they live out of the city, so it would be pretty shitty to ask her to drive all the way out here at this time of night. My cousin lives a few blocks away, and I could probably stay the night with her, then get the manager to open up my apartment tomorrow, but all my clothes are in there, so I wouldn't have anything to wear to work, and I have to open the shop. Plus Karma would have to come pick me up from here if I wanted to stay with her, since I don't have a working car, and it's still raining."
"I see. Well, one plus, I fixed your car today, before the whole downpour thing happened," he remarks so casually that I sit there staring at him, blinking like a fucking idiot and not comprehending what he's saying.
"I'm sorry you what?" I ask.
"Fixed your car, it should start now, but honestly you should think about getting a new one here pretty soon."
"How?" I ask.
"I'm a mechanic, and your starter needed replacing. I came by your place earlier to get you to open the hood, but you didn't answer so I kind of jimmied it open, replaced the part and put it back together," he shrugs like its no big deal and I feel tears start to prick my eyes as my lower lip starts to tremble.
"That's the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me, and I can't even pay you back for everything because I don't have any fucking money," I sob, my voice getting higher the more I try to speak.
"Whoa whoa whoa, Jinx, it's fine, you don't owe me anything," Malcolm says, but I can't stop crying. I bury my face into my hands, trying to hide as the tears won't stop flowing down my face.
I feel strong arms wrap around me, pulling me into a large, hard body, Malcolm running soothing hands over my arm as he hugs me close to him.
"Hey, it's okay," he whispers, as my tears soak his shirt, and I try to calm my breathing and stop my crying.
God, I'm a fucking mess, this is just great, standing dinner invites my ass; that shit is getting rejected after this.
When I finally pull myself together enough, I pull back and dry my face, pulling his hoodie up to wipe my tears.
"Sorry," I whisper.
"Want to tell me what that was about, cause I've never had someone break down on me like that for fixing their car."
"It wasn't that," I sigh, "I mean it was, but not just that. I've just been having a hard time, struggling to make ends meet and trying not to have to ask my parents for help."
"Would they not help you?" he asks.
"They would, that's just it though, see they don't have a lot of extra money, and they have been saving for two years to take their first-ever vacation. They just booked it, and if I told them I needed help, they would cancel it in a heartbeat to get me the money I need. I just, I can't let them do that."
"I see, what else?" he presses.
I pull back and set my hands in my lap, wringing my hands together, and pour out my fucking problems to a total stranger.
"I don't know if I'll make rent on Monday, my water got shut off, my power and propane are due to be turned off any day now. My hours got cut at the jobs I was even able to keep, and I honestly don't know what the fuck I'm going to do," I sigh as I feel my lip start to tremble and tears welling up again.
Malcolm
Serendipity Jinx is sitting on the floor of my apartment in tears, and all I want to do is hold her and make everything better. I would do just about anything to help her. I thought fixing her car would be a nice thing to do, don’t get me wrong it was, but it also just made her cry, and that’s the last thing I wanted to do.
She sniffles and rubs her nose with the sleeve of my hoodie she is wearing, as I try to think of a way to help her.
“It’s not much but, I own a small mechanic shop across town and I’ve been looking for someone to run the front office; answer phones, schedule appointments, order parts, billing, that sort of thing. You think that's something you can do?” I ask her, and when she looks up at me with tears in her green eyes, all I want to do is wipe her tears away and make sure she never cries again.
“Why would you offer me a job?” she asks.
“Because you need one that pays decent and has regular hours, and I need someone to do everything I don’t want to do, who isn't going to flake out on me. And I know where you live, so if you don’t show up for work one day it won't be hard to track you down,” I tell her, and that earns me a small giggle.
She looks down into her lap, twirling her fingers together as she chews on her plump bottom lip. Suddenly I’m very aware that offering her this job is probably the stupidest idea I have ever had. Not because I don't need someone for the job, I do; but because of how good she looks in my clothes, and how badly I want to see her out of them. If she comes to work for me, I’m going to see her every single day, and I’ll be her boss; effectively killing any possible chance I could have to date her.
But she needs this job more than I need to see her naked.
“Are you sure?” she asks, her voice small and tentative and it breaks me.
I want that girl that cursed and kicked her beat down car, the girl that calls me Not-Floyd-Mayweather. I want the girl with a smart mouth and a fucking attitude back.
“Can you answer phones?” I ask.
“Yes,” she deadpans.
“Make appointments? Send out invoices? Pay bills? Order parts?” I ask.
“I can schedule appointments, send out invoices, bill customers, but I wouldn't know the first thing about ordering parts and would probably fuck it up,” she says.
“If you’re sure, then okay,” she says, and I finally get a smile from her as she reaches her hand out for me to shake.
I slip my hand into hers, and strike the worst deal in the history of my life; I just employed the girl I want to date, knowing full well this means I can never date her.
“Thank you,” she whispers.
“My pleasure,” I lie.
Thursday the 12th
My phone alarm goes off, letting me know it’s time to pull my ass out of the most comfortable bed known to humanity. Malcolm's mom and sister knew what they were doing when they furnished and decorated this place.
A soft knock sounds at the bedroom door, leaning up on my elbows, I brush my sleep hair out of my face, "come in," I call.
Malcolm pushes the door open, "coffee?" he asks.
"Yes please," I sigh, sitting up in his bed.
Is it weird that I basically kicked him out of his bedroom last night? Yeah totally.
Is it weird that I kind of wanted him to stay in here last night, with me? Yeah definitely.
Do I understand that he just gave me a job and ultimately saved my ass, and that means I'll never be sharing a bed with him? Yup, got that, but thanks.
He steps into the room and strides across the floor, handing me a mug of coffee, I take a sip, and it tastes like pure heaven. That's the thing about working at a reasonably upscale coffee house; you know what excellent coffee is supposed to taste like and let me tell you, this is good coffee.
"I called the building manager this morning when I got up; he can meet us at your place in about ten minutes and get you inside. Then I can give you a ride to the coffee house if you want," he offers.
I take another sip from my mug and sigh, "okay, that sounds great." "I'll let you get ready, I just have to grab some clothes," he says with a nod before turning around and walking towards the small closet. Pulling out some clothes, then heading into the attached bathroom to get changed. I hear the shower turn on, and suddenly I realize that he is naked on just the other side of the door. Naked and wet.
Serendipity get your head out of the fucking naked gutter; he is about to be your boss.
It's also going to be weird having a boss that is just a few years older than I am, but hey Karma is only three years older than I am and she's been my boss for years.
My phone rings next to me on the bed, picking it up I turn it over and see Karma's cell phone number flash across the screen.
"Hey," I say into the phone as I answer.
"Please tell me you're on your way in," she huffs.
"Uhh not quite, I still have thirty minutes," I tell her. Pulling the phone back and double-checking the time to make sure I'm not late.
"I know but dude, I need you," she says in a hushed voice.
"What's going on?" I ask.
"Channel 7 is sending a reporter in this morning to do a new story on the pay-it-forward chain!" she yells into the phone, and I need to pull it away from my ear to prevent myself from having ringing in my ear for the rest of the day.
The bathroom door clicks open, and Malcolm steps out dressed but with wet hair.
"That's great Karma, I'll be in before you open to help make sure you're ready for them," I say into the phone.
"Thank you so much," she sighs, "I'll see you in a bit," she says before hanging up.
"Bad news?" Malcolm asks.
"No, great actually, Channel 7 is going to be doing a story this morning on the pay-it-forward chain at the coffee shop," I explain.
"Pay-it-forward chain?" he asks.
I feel my face turn up into a smile, "first thing Monday morning our very first drive-through customer paid for the person behind them, then it just never ended, everyone just kept paying for the next person, all day long," I explain, "Then even the last person would ask us to hold money to pay for the next person to come by."
Malcolm nods along as I keep talking, feeling myself get excited, not just for the recognition this has brought the coffee shop and Karma, but just thrilled that there are so many good people out there.
"Then at the end of the day, the same thing, the last person asked us to hold money till the following morning, well it's gone on all week, and no one has stopped the chain."
"Basically everyone just keeps paying it forward?" he asks.
"Exactly. Then someone created like a facebook page for it, and it blew up, which sent more and more people than usual to the shop, each person wanting to keep paying it forward to the next person. Now I guess it's gotten so big that the news is going to do like a human interest piece or something, and well, Karma is freaking out, but in a good way."
"Well that's pretty amazing," he says with a smile.
"I think so too," I sigh.
"So I take it this means we better get going so you can help your cousin?" he asks.
"Yeah, I guess so," I laugh lightly, throwing the covers off and climbing out of his bed.
I managed to get back into my apartment thanks to the building manager. Getting dressed in record time, quickly french braiding my hair and making sure to grab my keys, I toss them into my purse and rush to meet Malcolm down in the parking lot. I was going to let him wait in my living room, but after seeing his apartment last night, I realized mine isn't up to par with his, and if I'm honest I got a little embarrassed over it.
Crazy right? I broke down and cried on his fucking shoulder last night as I spilled out all my problems to him and what did he do? Offered me a job and a place to crash for the night.
The least I could have done was invite him in, but I couldn't. I wanted to clean up a little bit first.
When I get to the parking lot, he is leaning against his Harley, and it takes everything in me to not completely drool over this sight of him. He is almost your boss, pull yourself together woman.
"Ready?" he asks as I get closer to him.
"As long as I don't get interviewed on the news I think I'll be fine," I chuckle, the reality of Karma and I probably going to be on TV today starting to get to me. "You'll be fine," he winks and hands me his extra helmet, helping me tighten the chin strap when I can't get it.
He puts his helmet on, getting onto his Harley and starting it up then motioning for me to get on the back. It is nothing but pure danger to be this close to him, but I wrap my arms around him and hold on as he takes off out of the parking lot and towards the coffee house.
It doesn't take us much time at all to reach the corner that the coffee shop sits on, but there are already cars parked in every space along the sidewalk, and a line waiting in the drive-through so long that it spreads out onto the street and wraps around the block.
"You can just drop me off out front," I yell over Malcolm's shoulder but instead of stopping in front of the shop and letting me hop off he circles the block and slides into a space. Putting the kickstand down and turning off his bike, I hop off, removing the helmet and setting it on the seat behind him.
"You didn't have to find a spot, I could have just jumped off real quick and let you get to work," I say as he stands, swinging his leg over the seat and pulling the keys from the ignition.
He takes his helmet off, hanging it from the handlebars, "I want coffee," he says, turning to me with a smirk on his face.
"You're joking, right? It's going to be a madhouse in there," I tell him.
"I have a feeling I have an in with the staff," he winks.
"Suit yourself," I tell him, turning and walking down the sidewalk towards the coffee shop.
He catches up and walks in step with me, "you know Karma is going to give you the third degree, this is the second time in a week you have given me a ride, and my car isn't even broken today," I tell him.
"Because I fixed it," he points out.
"Fair point, maybe don't mention that to her," I say.
"Why wouldn't I mention that? It makes me seem like a really good guy."
"You are a really good guy," I deadpan.
"Maybe that's all part of my plan, to make you think I'm a really good guy," he suggests.
"No, not good guys who want girls to think they're good guys give girls rides on their Harley's then expect to get laid. Guys that are good guys, give girls rides don’t expect anything in return, fix their cars for free, then offer them a job when they start hysterically crying in their apartments. Then, said good guys give up their beds for the said hysterical girl to sleep in while he takes the couch that doesn't actually fit him. Then said good guys gives the girl another ride even after he fixed her car," I explain, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk to face him and cross my arms over my chest. "Sorry to break it to you Not-Floyd-Mayweather, but you are in fact a good guy," I say with determination.
"Are you the hysterical girl in your little scenario?" he questions, turning to face me and mocking my stance by mimicking me.
"That would be me."
"Just checking," he smirks. Asshole. "Let's get you to work Jinx," he says, uncrossing his arms and offering me his hand.
Before I even have time to think about it I uncross my arms and slip my hand into his, letting him lead me down the sidewalk to Karma Koffee, where there is already a line out the door. I pull him down the small side alley and knock on the back door to the coffee shop. Karma opens the door looking frantic, she instantly grabs my free hand and pulls me inside with her, causing me to pull Malcolm inside behind me.
"Thank god you're here," she huffs, "I am freaking the fuck out Seren," she says, sounding about ready to hyperventilate.
"Breathe, you're going to be fine. Just run this bitch like it’s any other day," I instruct her, and feel Malcolm give my hand a gentle squeeze, a move that I'm positive is his way of telling me to do the same.
Karma takes several deep breaths before coming to her senses, looking around me and eyeing Malcolm.
"Hey, Harley dude is back," she says, as if he can't hear her.
"Not-Floyd-Mayweather, Karma. Karma, meet Not-Floyd-Mayweather," I give introductions.
