To The Rude Guy in Apartment Five - J. S. Cooper Page 0,49
were at the door now. “Well, thanks.” I gave him a quick hug then stepped across the threshold. I was about to turn back and thank him again when the door slammed shut behind me.
Well, that was unexpected, I thought to myself as I walked to my door.
Once inside, I waited to see if he was going to come over and knock, but after about five minutes I realized that this really was the end of the night. I walked to the bathroom and started to run a bath, throwing a cupful of Epsom salts into the water. I might as well have a relaxing bath instead of moping around wondering why he hadn’t asked me to watch a movie or something. I walked into the kitchen as the bath ran and decided to pour myself another glass of wine. As I was pouring the wine my phone beeped and I was surprised to see that Jane had texted me.
Hey, are you up? read her text.
Yes. You okay? I answered.
Kinda. Can you talk?
Sure, shall I call you?
Her reply was immediate. Yes, please.
I dialed her number, and she immediately picked up the phone. “Hola.”
“How’s it going?”
“How long do you have?”
“All night.” I laughed and picked up my wine glass and headed to the living room. I settled onto the couch and placed my glass on the ground and leaned back. “What’s going on?”
“I am going to kill Tate Howard.”
“Oh, boy. What happened?” Had he fired her already? Was I going to be next?
“He’s an asshole.”
“Well, we both knew that already.” I took another sip of wine. “What’s new?”
“I went out last night to a bar.”
“Oh? With the girls?”
“No, it was to a salsa class. I try to go once a week just to let steam off.”
“That sounds fun.”
“Normally, it’s really fun.”
“What happened this week?”
“Well, we were doing rotations—”
“Rotations?”
“The guys are stationary and the women change partners every five minutes.”
“Sounds kinky.” I laughed.
“Trust me, it’s not.”
“Aww.”
“Well, anyway there I was, rotating around the guys and having fun. There was one guy there, Carlos, and he was really feeling my vibe.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah, and I was feeling his vibe as well. He kinda reminded me of Gael Garcia Bernal.”
“Who?”
“The actor?”
“I don’t know him.”
“I’ll hold while you look him up.”
“Okay, then.” I pulled the phone away from my ear, went onto Google, and searched for his name. Images of a gorgeous guy with dark hair and captivating eyes stared back at me. “Okay,” I said as I put the phone back to my ear. “He’s hot. You were vibing with a guy that hot? You go, girl!”
“Right?” She sounded pleased. “I was feeling him. And he was definitely feeling me. The teacher asked us to step to the side to show some of the new students some advanced steps.”
“Oh, wow, you must be good.”
“Dancing is in my blood.” She laughed. “I’ll take you some time.”
“Awesome. That sounds fun.”
“Well, anyway, there we were, dancing. Carlos is spinning me around, and I suddenly feel myself growing tense.”
“Oh, no! Did he try and feel you up?”
“No, he didn’t try and feel me up.” She laughed. “It felt like someone was staring at me.”
“But wasn’t everyone in the class staring at you? Weren’t you showing them the dance moves?”
“Yes, but it wasn’t someone staring from the front, it was from the back.”
“Ooh.”
“So anyway, Carlos and I finish the steps and take a bow and I hear this clapping from behind and I turn around and guess who’s standing there, all six feet of tall muscle and condescension?”
“Let me guess.” I paused for effect. “Tate Howard.”
“Yup. Tate was there, and he gave me the most derisive look,” she huffed. “And then he walked over to me and he said, ‘I wish you were as good at marketing as you were at dancing.’”
“Oh, no way! What an asshole.”
“Girl, didn’t I tell you?” She muffled a scream. “I wanted to slap him so hard, but I had to tell myself, ‘Chica, this fool is not worth it. Do not put your hands on him. He’s your boss and you do not need to get fired right now.’”
“Oh, damn.”
“But, girl, if I was in Mexico, I would have slapped him so hard.” She laughed. “And then my brother would have found him and slapped him too.”
“Well, I don’t know if it’s good or bad that we’re not in Mexico.” I laughed as well. “So what did you say?”
“I said …” She paused dramatically. “I said, ‘Well, let’s just say that dancing isn’t my finest