Swing Batter Swing

by Zaida Polanco

  Richie got up to leave, exchanging a fist bump with Jay before making his way to the door. “You’ll be alright, man. Just stop being a pussy.”

  Jay couldn’t help but laugh at his vulgar friend. His vulgar friend who maybe had a point.

  Shit. Was he really about to toss aside all of his carefully enacted rules just so he could pursue Marty? What kind of guy did that make him?

  The kind of guy falling for his assistant, his inner voice said. Stupid stupid guy.

  Chapter 7: Marty

  The last thing Marty expected when she started working for Jay was that he would take her up on her offer to pet sit for Bruce. But at some point in the last few weeks, she had let it slip that she hated her roommates, and Jay offered her his house for a few days in exchange for watching Bruce. He was headed to New York for meetings and was planning on hiring someone from Rover to stay at his place with the dog while he was gone.

  Instead, he asked Marty if she wanted to make some extra money while also enjoying the comforts of his home away from her crazy roommates. She said no, almost reflexively, as the gesture felt too intimate, too familiar. She would be sleeping in his house? Showering in his house? In the place where he walked around naked and brought girls over and—

  “McFly, I’m going to spend the money regardless. Might as well be with someone I trust, someone who loves my dog already. Plus, if you burn my house down I’ll know where to find you. Seriously, it’s a win-win-win for all of us.”

  She finally acquiesced, which is how she found herself sunbathing with Bruce in Jay’s adorable backyard. It was Sunday afternoon, the end of their time together, as Jay would be arriving later that night, and Marty was seriously depressed to leave Bruce and the amazing place.

  Jay lived in a lovely house in Silverlake that was somehow cozy and sexy at the same time. His decor was eclectic — not too cold or masculine, but not feminine enough for Marty to think he had a regular female presence in his life. That fact pleased her a bit, which she hated admitting to herself.

  She had scanned the house for clues for way longer than she should have. She didn’t enter Jay’s bedroom, as she felt that was a line even she couldn’t cross. But she did study his framed pictures (mostly of Bruce and friends). She found no pictures of a girlfriend, much to her relief. She didn’t find anything that seemed creepy or weird in any way, so she was pretty certain he wasn’t a secret murderer or something.

  He recycled, enjoyed classic baseball (if the recorded games on his DVR were any indication) and 90s hip-hop, it seemed. Marty was pleasantly surprised. He also had magazine subscriptions to Sports Illustrated, GQ, and Popular Mechanics, plus he got three newspapers delivered daily: the New York Times, the Washington Post, and the Chicago Tribune. Marty had no idea why she was interested in this unimportant minutiae of his daily life, but she couldn’t get enough of learning everything she could about him.

  The past few days had given her a lovely reprieve from her normal life, as Jay being out of town also meant that she was given the go-ahead to work from his home. She and Bruce went on long walks in the mornings, got coffee at a cute little hipster shop around the corner, did some work for a few hours, and then had the afternoons for relaxing.

  Marty had also worked on her pilot script for the first time in nearly a year. His house was like a lovely little writers’ retreat she didn’t know she needed, and she wished she could have her own place like this.

  Not to mention the backyard with lemon and guava trees and a lovely pool with awesome lounge chairs. Which is where she currently soaked up the last bit of sun before evening fell and she had to return to her dumb apartment with her dumb roommates and their dumb faces. Ugh. Dumb.

  Bruce’s barking woke her from her peaceful, sun-soaked reverie. He ran to the sliding door that separated the kitchen from the backyard, barking and jumping like a crazy dog.

  Marty watched in confusion and a bit of horror as the door slid open and Jay stepped out, looking yummy and extra adorable as he reunited with Bruce, letting the dog lick his face and jump on him.

  Jay turned his gaze toward the lounge chair and squinted, the sun in his eyes. “Marty? ” he asked, scanning the yard until he found her. She was frozen to her chair, breathing heavily and desperately wishing this was a dream.

  “You’re— ah— you’re early...,” she said lamely, her arms crossed over her bare chest. Yes, she was sunbathing topless, figuring she should take advantage of this private yard situation.

  Jay stopped moving toward her as he finally got a good look at her. “Oh fuck,” he said and turned around quickly. “Shit, I’m sorry. I tried calling,” he explained with his back to her.

  “It’s okay, it’s okay. Just... if you just keep your back to me, I’ll walk around you into the house and grab my stuff, okay?”

  Jay nodded and Marty ran past him, quickly sneaking into the house before she embarrassed herself further.

  Chapter 8: Jay

  As Marty darted past him, Jay couldn’t help but open his eyes and turn slightly to watch her go. He knew he was an asshole but he couldn’t help it. This sexy as fuck girl was sunbathing topless in his very own backyard.

  The sun had been in his eyes as he had approached her by the pool, meaning he didn’t get a very good look at her before realizing she was covering her breasts with her hands but not doing a great job of it, considering the size of them.

  Despite the fact that he wanted to stare at her forever, he did turn around as soon as he realized what was going on. And yet, he just gave into the urge to peek at her as she ran into the house. He caught a glimpse of her ass in some skimpy bikini bottoms and he cursed himself for coming home early, knowing that she would still be at the house and tempt him in all the ways he didn’t need to be tempted right now. Christ, he needed a drink.

  Just as he had the thought, Marty exited the house with a glass of what appeared to be sangria. He could barely pay attention to the glass she put in his hand because he was too wrapped up in what she was wearing.

  She had covered up, sure, but the dress somehow turned him on even more. It was a sweet little sundress that stopped mid-thigh, with a ruffled V-neck that molded to her gorgeous tits. The way they bounced made Jay realize that she hadn’t put a bra on before tossing the dress on. Was she trying to torture him?

  Marty gave him a tentative smile. “I made sangria yesterday — thought you might want some,” she said, sounding hesitant. Her timid statement brought Jay back to reality.

  “Of course, it’s just what I needed,” he responded, glad for the smile his words brought to her face. He’d do anything to keep that smile there.

  “Anyway, I’m going to head out. Brucey-boy pooped twice today and has been a very good boy the whole time.” As if sensing she was talking about him, Bruce walked up and nudged her hand so she would pet him.

  Marty crouched down to give Bruce some love, which of course gave Jay a view down the front of her dress. He quickly walked away, pretending to be engrossed in his phone as he sipped the delicious sangria. Damn that was good, and Jay was not a sangria guy at all.

  Maybe it was the fact that she’d made this amazing sangria, or the fact that she looked so tantalizing and delicious, or maybe he just wanted to hang out with her — he wasn’t sure what it was, but something made him stop Marty before she left.

  “Stay for dinner,” he blurted out, hating the way he made it sound like a command.

  She blinked in confusion. “What? Do you need to talk about work?” she asked, not understanding.

  Jay hesitated and then shook his head. “No I’m... sorry. That was inappropriate. I just —”

  “Hey, it’s fine,” she said, moving closer to him. “I just didn’t know if this was a friend thing or a work thing and I’m—”

  “No no, you don’t have to explain, I just —”

  “I’d love to stay for dinner,” she said, as they talked over one another.

  Jay’s heart felt like it was going to beat out of his c
hest as they made their way inside. He couldn’t remember the last time he had a girl over for a meal or anything, really.

  But Marty wasn’t a girl. She was his assistant, and he couldn’t forget that. So, he would order them some food and force himself to be professional.

  Some hours later, he and Marty were definitely tipsy and he didn’t want the night to end. They’d had a blast over dinner, getting to know each other and speaking freely without the confines of the office.

  Jay learned that Marty had two brothers and was the middle child. Her mother pressured her to get married and have kids even though Marty was only 24. She was very close to her father, and she loved sports and cars because of him. She got an advanced degree in writing and recently moved to LA.

  And she was gorgeous and hilarious and smart as hell.

  The two currently played a heated game of Scrabble wherein Marty kept threatening to flip the board over if Jay continued to make up words and waste her time.

  He couldn’t help it — he loved that she was getting riled up over the rules. Truth be told, he was a shit Scrabble player anyway, but he would play forever if it meant he got to watch her face screwed up in concentration as she considered her tiles.

  They were on the floor, with Bruce sprawled next to them and a half-empty bottle of wine between them. Marty sat as primly as she could with her knees tucked under her and to the side, as she was still in her dress.

  Jay couldn’t help but notice the expanse of exposed thigh and had to ball his hands up and pinch himself to avoid making a move on her.

  Marty’s tongue peeked out of the corner of her mouth, as she was deep in thought on her next move. Jay forced his mind to flash to his father and his shitty track record of harassing his female employees. That did the trick. Suddenly, Jay got up.

  “I uh— I’m going to head to bed. Long day, jet lag and all,” he lied, hating the look of confusion on Marty’s face.

  She jumped up as well. “Of course, so sorry, I didn’t realize how late it was. Let me get out of your hair.”

  Jay reached for her but stopped before he touched her. “Hey no, you can stay in the guest room if you want. I don’t want you driving.”

  She shook her head and started grabbing her things. “No it’s fine, I’ve been drinking only water for the past two hours so I’m okay.”

  He nodded when he realized she was right. She hadn’t touched the wine since they got super into their game. Reluctantly, he walked her out to her car.

  “Can you... ah... let me know you made it home?” He couldn’t help but worry about her.

  “Oh, of course. I’ll text you.” Marty looked like she wanted to say something but hesitated as she tossed her bag in the backseat. “I’ll see you at the office, yeah?”

  He nodded and they stared at each other for a beat. Jay felt the air between them, thick and charged with unfulfilled desire.

  Marty broke the moment by getting up on her tiptoes and placing a gentle kiss on Jay’s lips. It was quick, the sort of kiss one might give a friend if they were the kissing sort. The sort of kiss that European parents gave their kids all the time. But Marty was not European, and Jay was stunned. She didn’t wait for his response before getting in the car and driving off.

  He stood there, watching her go, wondering what the fuck just happened.

  Chapter 9: Marty

  What the fuck did she just do? Why did she kiss him? Was she certifiable?

  These questions plagued Marty as she drove home after a weird night of dinner and bonding with her boss.

  Maybe it was the fact that she caught him staring at her chest a few times, or the way he looked at her when she joined him by the pool in her sundress after the sunbathing debacle, like he was trying really hard not to rip her dress off. In retrospect, Marty should have put a bra on, but she had been so flustered to be caught topless that she hadn’t been thinking.

  Regardless, she felt like he wanted her too. Which is why she was so surprised when he essentially kicked her out in the middle of their Scrabble match (she was winning, by the way). And why she kissed him in the driveway.

  The minute she drew her mouth closer to his, she knew she’d made a critical error. But she was already committed to it and it would be foolish if she just pulled away at the last second... right?

  She had an out-of-body experience as she watched herself move closer in slow-motion, saw Jay’s eyes widening, saw his jaw tense, and still couldn’t pull away.

  So she pecked him on the lips and immediately retreated, hoping it seemed casual and breezy and cosmopolitan. You know, cause she was the kind of person who kissed all her friends and bosses on the mouth when saying goodbye. That was totally her thing. Or maybe she could make it her thing now.

  That was clearly the only way around this. She would have to start greeting people at work like that and then she’d probably get fired for sexual harassment and then she’d move back with her parents just like they wanted her to. Yeah, that was it.

  Marty was deep in thought as she entered the apartment, finding it essentially trashed and disgusting. She hadn’t been home in a few days and clearly her roommates did not step up and clean anything in her absence. She would tackle the pile of dishes and garbage later.

  First, she needed to be alone and overthink the Jay situation in peace. Luckily, it didn’t seem like her gross roommates were home at the moment. She was thankful for these little mercies.

  She remembered her promise to text Jay when she made it home and realized this was her chance to clear the air with him.

  After writing and rewriting a text, she finally sent the message.

  Marty:

  Just made it home. Thanks for a great night and for letting me watch Bruce. We are best friends now. PS, please disregard my panicked moment of insanity during which I put my mouth on your mouth. I apologize, it will not happen again.

  She waited for a response, her heartbeat kicking up like a snare drum as she saw the three little dots indicating that he was typing a response.

  Jay:

  Thanks for taking care of my boy. It’s clear to me that you have replaced me as his favorite human, as he’s been moping since you left. Exhibit A:

  Jay sent a picture of Bruce lying in front of the door, clearly waiting for something. Marty’s heart melted.

  Jay:

  Don’t apologize for the mouth on mouth situation. To be honest, I wish I could reciprocate but unfortunately I can’t. I will never mention it again if you promise you’ll never tell anyone how bad I am at Scrabble.

  Marty let out a breath that was equal parts relieved and frustrated. She was glad that Jay wasn’t being weird about this, but also more than a little deflated that he officially rejected her. It was right there in black and white. ‘I wish I could reciprocate but unfortunately I can’t.’ Translation: I can’t indulge your silly schoolgirl crush on me you crazy pathetic fool.

  She decided to suck it up and force herself to be normal. She was clearly horny and starved for physical contact, and that was causing her to make crazy decisions. Time to get back on her dating apps and stop trying to seduce her boss, for Pete Wentz’s sake.

  Marty:

  You drive a hard bargain, sir, as I have already printed up shirts that say ‘Jay Michaelson is a garbage Scrabble player and should be shamed thusly.’ It was a little costly to fit all those words on the front but I thought it was worth it. Guess that’s money down the drain.

  Jay:

  Shit. I guess you’ll have to donate them the way losing sports teams send their unearned championship merchandise to impoverished villages.

  Marty:

  I will take comfort knowing that some underprivileged child somewhere far away will know the truth about your Scrabble failures. That’s all I need in this world.

  Jay:

  So you agree then? We have a deal?

  Marty:

  Deal. I won’t tell anyone (except for the poor villagers), and in return you will make no mention of my ext
reme lapse in judgment and won’t hold it against me in the future.

  Jay:

  Agreed.

  Marty waited, not wanting to text again if this was the end of their conversation, and yet wanting to keep talking to him because he made her laugh.

  Jay:

  Glad you made it home safely. Hope your roommates aren’t too terrible tonight.

  Marty:

  I came home and the place looks like it’s been ransacked by raccoons. So yeah, they’re on their terrible bullshit already. Thanks for letting me crash there. Your place is like a peaceful spa oasis. I was even able to get some writing done!

  Jay:

  And sunbathing ;-)

  Shit, what? Wait. What??

  Jay:

  Ah, fuck. Now I’m the awkward one. That was creepy, wasn’t it?

  Marty:

  I won’t lie to you, boss. A winky face is almost always creepy.

  Jay:

  Crap. Forget I sent it. Add that to our deal. I’ll ignore the mouth on mouth, you’ll keep mum about the Scrabble AND the winky face.

  Marty:

  I feel like I’ve been bamboozled, but I desperately want you to never mention the mouth on mouth situation again so I guess I agree to these new terms. PS, can we stop calling it mouth on mouth? It’s weird.

  Jay:

  What do you prefer?

  Marty:

  Nothing! Cause you won’t be mentioning it again!

  Jay:

  Mouthgate? Mouthapalooza? The Mouth-cident (mouth plus accident OR mouth plus incident, take your pick)?