No Love Attached

chapter ten : oblivion

| No Love Attached |
chapter ten : oblivion

•••

    It was September 7, 2009. The day I first saw him.

    The New York air was brisker than it should have been in autumn. I was fresh out of college and ready to take on the world. After spending my entire summer interning with Penney at Lewis & James Publishing, they had offered us both official, permanent jobs. They were entry level that paid shit but it didn't matter to us. It made the exponential crisis of "I graduated top of my class at Harvard and now I'm making Starbucks runs," worth all of the stupid, skinny, caramel-whatever's.

      Matthew Lewis had grown fond of my work ethic. I could tell. He was a skinny, tall teddy-bear of a man with borderline graying hair and large brown eyes. He made an effort to tell me frequently how well I had picked up things.

       Penney, not so much.

       Her job was granted by the other senior partner, Alec James. Someone who even then, gave me creep vibes. 

     But it was that day I  had met Josh Lewis.

It was my first day as a paid employee and due to an extremely inconvenient, technical difficulty on the subway, I was late. Being punctual was something I prided myself on. Yet on the only day it matters, it seems to have thrown itself out the window.

After running two blocks that felt like twenty, the entrance of the building was a few feet away. All I had to do was make it to the 44th floor in -- I glanced at my phone to check the time -- thirty six seconds.

I was pushing the door open just as someone else did. It resulted in a big splash of warm coffee cascading around my cleavage.

And right on my new black Prada blouse.

"You've got to be kidding." I muttered and made my way inside. Just because I now had caffeine covered breasts, didn't mean I was going to be one minute later than I already was.

"I'm so so sorry." The guy apologized, following me into the building.

"This top was about as much as my rent."

He also got into the elevator. I dug through my black hole of a purse to find some tissues to dab out this stain.

"Can I at least pay for dry cleaning?"

That was kind. I guess. Rare to find in the city. It wasn't out of the ordinary some guy spilled his coffee on me. This was New York. Can you really say the day has ended if you don't go home with food, pigeon shit, or some sort of stain on you?

"Don't worry about it." I replied.

We both got out on the 44th floor. My heels clicked and clacked as I ran to the office, leaving the guy behind.

I pushed through the large, black double doors. It had a small plaque with the words "Lewis & James Publishing" engraved in gold.

When I entered, I was greeted by Penney dressed in a bright pink top with a skirt that was a size too small.

"You're late!" She hissed.

"I know. Someone spilled coffee on me downstairs. Hence the huge stain on my shirt." I threw my bag down and settled into my cubicle next to hers.

"Not the Prada." She gasped in horror.

"The Prada." I informed.

She shook her head as if she just heard of a world tragedy. "Who was it?"

"Some idiot."

A deep voice came from behind me. "I believe that idiot said he was sorry."

I turned in my swivel chair to face to the very culprit from the lobby. The clumsy man who spilled his morning espresso on me.

I've worked here everyday for months and haven't seen this guy here once. But his easy demeanor told me he wasn't new here and that he was a person of importance.

Now that I wasn't in a rush, I got a chance to really soak him in. His expensive suit clung to the muscular body underneath. Hazel eyes.  Unkept brown with a slight wave. He was naturally tan or had just spent the summer in Cabo. Either way, he was glowing.

   Every woman's eyes were on him as he hovered over me. I also noticed his modest confidence. He knew the women in the office were staring at him, yet didn't have an ounce of arrogance about it.

Me being the over-confident, sexual prowess I was at that time in my life saw him as someone who was going to -- well, how should I put this?

Fuck me into oblivion.

The least he could do for ruining my clothes is help me take them off.

"Indeed he did." I crossed my legs and played with a pencil from my desk.

"What else can his so-called idiot to do to compensate?" He smiled a bright, beautiful smile. It was one that could have blinded women dead in their tracks.

I bit my lip for a moment to think. "Drinks. Nine o'clock?"

My assertive attitude may have taken him by surprise. It often did with men. But there was no way he was going to say no.

He crossed his arms over his what seemed to be a very toned chest, thinking for a moment before he replied. "Eight."

"Eight-thirty." I quipped without a second of hesitation.

"Joe's on Lexington."

"Carmine's on 5th."

"I'll pick you up."

"I'll meet you there." We went back and forth like a rapid-fire round of a game show.

"It's a date." He flashed another brilliant grin.

"It's a date." I smiled back. Suddenly a swarm of butterflies filled my stomach, fluttering around for the rest of the day. It was a feeling I had longed for since I felt it in fifth grade when Bobby Koffman shared a piece of bubblegum with me. (In case you were wondering, I loved Bobby Koffman until I realized he was a whore, sharing gum with every girl in the grade. He now sells hotdogs on the street. Karma, bitch.)

Later that night at 8:30pm at Carmines, on 5th, I realized I had met the love of my life.

We had hit it off so well, we had forgotten to give each other our names until we were on our third drink.

And yes that night, he did in fact, fuck me into oblivion.

Three times.

•••

Author's Note:
hey! Hope you guys liked this. Here's some more backstory with Josh. (This is unedited at the moment)
Please vote and comment if you happened to enjoy this chapter!