Curved Page 3
Intimidation was also said to be in his possession. Another maneuvering tactic.
“I’m impressed with you,” Joseph said. “Really, I am.”
Being that it was at the end of the day, both of us were tired and worn out. I appreciated his frankness.
“You’re a very, very clever woman,” he said, his teeth slowly sliding out from behind his lips. Straight, white, perfect. I salivated. Then I caught myself, parsing the words he shot at me.
This was a trap.
“I’m glad you think so,” I said, “but I’m not really sure what that has to do with me and my work.”
“It has everything to do,” Joseph said. “Everything that I’ve seen from you is a result of your cunning attitude, your sharp senses.”
I blushed deeply. My skin flushed with heat, my cheeks a brilliant pink. “Oh, I’m only an intern. I can’t be saving you that much money—in fact, I’d bet that I’m losing you lots.”
Joseph shook his head. “Actually, I’m here to tell you that you do great work. And you save me thousands.”
Why was I so enamored with an investment banker like him? If he were anyone else, I would be rebellious. What was so great about saving a faceless corporation thousands of dollars? Sure, I was good at my job, but who did I help at the end of the day? How many people did I impact? Interning didn’t give me the full picture. And Joseph could be elusive—I was also still in undergrad. What did I know?
“You’re a deep thinker,” Joseph said, his voice rising to a husky tone. I closed my eyes for a moment, enjoying the depth and verve behind his grace. He knew how to direct conversations, new how to lead them. “But there’s a problem with some of what I’ve seen you do.”
He printed out one of my files. A spreadsheet. On his desk, he laid out the papers, showing me all of what I had done for the Monday of that week. Lying his hands flat on his desk, he ushered me onward.
“Don’t be scared of me,” he said, shrugging.
I scooted closer, performing the same motion Angela had only hours ago, lifting my seat to not scrape the ground too hard. Up close, I looked at the printout. “What exactly am I doing?”
“You jump right into the action,” Joseph said, smirking. “Let’s stop for a moment and let me just say that I know some things about you. You’re competent. But you leave behind a trail of mistakes.”
Mistakes? I tailored my programs to be perfect. When I checked my work, I never found any issues. Actually, even with my programs doing all the labor, I still had fewer errors than Angela.
“Show me them,” I said, ready.
He pointed to a number at the top of the page. Then he traced his fingers around a set of equations, plenty of them that calculated our monthly accounting for my department. Basic stuff.
“Do you see anything?” Joseph said.
Rubbing my eyes, I said, “Yes.” Strange. I thought I had compiled a perfect set of data in my program, but it appeared in front of me then that there were blatant errors, errors which embarrassed me. “Guess my senses aren’t so sharp, huh?”
“They are,” Joseph said. “Only a couple minor ones, but they’re repeated throughout this report.” He pulled out a seperate file I had worked on the other day. “Look this over.”
I scanned the document again, my eyes bleary, desperate for an exit home. I needed my pillow and blankets, and it wasn’t like Joseph was going to offer me either in his office. Staring at the paper, I remained silent until he broke the tension with his finger tapping on the page, center, right-aligned. “See?” he said. “Have a calculator out?”
The equation represented a basic SUM function in Excel. I had it written out. The math wasns’t coherent though, was rather sloppy. After three or four runs of the numbers, I realized I must’ve made a mistake.
“Are you certain that these are my reports?” I said. “Not that I’m trying to challenge you, but, I’m not sure if…”
I had been sitting down for so long chatting with Angela, that I never really kept track of what I was doing. I just let the computer compile and spit out my data. So much for my wizardry.
“Okay, so, I know where the mistakes are,” I said, fumbling for a pen in one of his holders. Crossing out certain numbers, I made the corrections clear in bold, red ink. “There shouldn’t be any—oh, wait, one more here…”
“Take your time,” Joseph said, sitting back.
I blushed even harder now. How could I have missed so many? This was wholly unlike me. A singular event, I told him.
“You’re fine,” he said, strumming the table. With his fingers stopped, he steepled his hands, staring at me. His eyes intense. Boring into my face. I glanced at him, only to glance back at my work. I had to get home soon.
My mind began to wander. I stitched two thoughts together: Joseph’s previous backlash towards Antonio and my upbringing. People would make fun of me for not having nice clothes or food stamped lunches. Would Joseph have been a bully in my youth? Would he have pushed me around? Or would he take me in his arms and kiss me and solve my problems like I was doing for him now?
My hand trembled over the math I was writing out. My lines wobbled and turned squiggly, unintelligible. By the end of the line, I had written out a complete equation, but it seemed wrong to me. I scratched it out, frustrated with myself.
“I’m sorry,” I mumbled, my voice waning. “It won’t happen again.”
“Don’t worry,” he said, placing his hand over my wrist. “I only get angry at Antonio. I’d never be able to show the same rage towards you.”
His hands were so heavy. They must of been ten or twenty pounds. Muscular and strong, they outlined my arms, following the edges of goosebumps rising along my body. I tried pulling back from him, but my instinct was to stay in his embrace.
He made me feel good. Comfortable, even. So I settled into him, my hands balling together tightly in his warmth.
“I’ve been finding these errors for a while,” Joseph said. “I think I can help you perfect your technique. Not in the office though—I’ve been getting too busy for that. Why don’t you come over to my place tomorrow for some intensive training? I can show you everything you need to know, so you’ll get it right the first time.”
My trembling became an earthquake shiver across my body. Inviting me to his house? Or wherever he lived? Was I ready for this?
Him and I alone?
“I—I have a club meeting tomorrow,” I said, “you know, for homeless people.”
“Ah, the tricky excuse. How about after the meeting? College can’t be taking up all your time now, right?”
“R—right,” I said. “You’re right. I have time after.” I slipped my hands out for my phone to verify my schedule, but as I did so, I knocked over the cupholder containing pens all over Joseph’s lap.
Ink squirted out from one of the pens, a leaky, leaky faucet of black on his navy trousers. I shrieked in horror as the color set into his clothes, walking around to him with my shirt offered to help dab away the damage—too late. The ink was already setting in.
Kneeling next to him with my shirt stretched in my hands, I begged him forgiveness. “Oh my God,” I said, “I’m so, so, so, so, so, so, so, sorry!”
Joseph spread his legs apart. I was too mortified to be turned on, but hey, the view was nice. The ink outlined his crotch definitively. Shame and embarrassment washed over me—why was my mind so dirty, dammit?
But Jonly only grinned, his hands at his sides. “Guess you’ll be working over time?”
“No, wait, really?” My eyes were frantically rolling across his body. There was no way out of this.
“Come over tomorrow,” he said. “And your debt will be paid off.”
“Dammit,” I said, “I’m not sure why my hands did that. It’s like they’re alive on their own and—I’m really sorry. Really, I’m really, really sorry. Your suit must’ve cost thousands of dollars, and here I am, ruining that and—”
“I’ll get a new one,” Joseph said, not
even blinking. “I’m not worried about this suit.”
“Oh,” I said. “You’re just saying that.”
“No,” Joseph said. “I always mean what I say.” He stood, patting his legs down with a pocket square he’d pulled from his chest. “Tomorrow,” he said, darkly. “I’ll see you at my place, text you the address, but tomorrow. I need you there. It’s important. Also,” he added, “don’t skip out on your club meeting. You’re doing a very noble thing for the homeless.”
“How did you know?” I said.
Joseph blinked at me. “It was on your resume when you applied, remember?”
Backing up and away from him, I knocked against the table, nearly splattering another set of pens on his legs. Catching the cup before it fell, I pressed my fingers over my mouth, giggling too much. “Oh, yeah,” I said. I walked to the door, running when I got the confidence to. “I’ll see you later,” I said, quickly, “yeah, I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Ophelia,” Joseph said.
I stopped with my hand on the doorknob.
“Don’t worry so much,” he said. “Make sure to keep your phone on hand.”
I smiled to myself, glancing at Joseph one last time. “The pants. I owe you.”
Running out of the office, I ducked my head down, the embarrassment fully flourishing now the farther down the hall I went.
Chapter 4
What would the club say if they knew I was going to Joseph Videl’s place at night? I could hear the peanut gallery already. A chorus of voices clamoring at the table we sat around for meetings. Oh, you’re just in this for the money and prestige. You’re trying to set yourself up as the next Bill Gates. You have two different and competing goals in life. You can’t be an investment banker and philanthropic. There’s no way.
Zena at the head of the table. Her friend next to her, Ricarda, yelling at me. Ophelia, you’re such a hypocrite. Ophelia, how can you call yourself president? Ophelia, you’re a fraud. A disgrace to Columbia University.
I shook my head as I entered the elevator. Because it was so late now, no one was around. Only probably me and a couple of other interns from various departments and divisions. Accounting, primarily.
Angela was waiting for me in our workstation room, still fiddling with some spreadsheets on her laptop. Her shoes were off, her hair back. “Jesus Christ,” she said, closing up her laptop, “finally. I have an excuse to stop.”
“I would rather be you right now,” I said, pressing my hands against my face. The embarrassment throbbed over my body, in every crevice and hole. My pores oozed ddisbelief and anxiety. Angela only had to smell me to tell that I was ruined.
“What happened to you?” Angela said. “You look like you fought someone.”
“I spilled ink on Joseph,” I said. “On his suit. And then he told me I work has errors. He found a bunch of them. And he wants to be over at his house—apartment or whatever he lives in. He wants me over.”
Angela crouched low near me. She stared into my eyes, her thumbs twisting together and pulling at her skin nervously. It seemed that my fear was rubbing off on her. “So,” she said, “you’re telling me that he wants you over at his house?”
“Exactly that,” I said. I explained the situation with the pens and ink to her again. “I’m so embarrassed, like, so, so, so embarrassed. You should’ve seen his face.” I actually couldn’t remember it because of how quickly the scene rolled out. “I practically bolted the moment it happened.”
“That’s no good,” Angela said.
“You think?” I said. “Of course it’s not good. The man probably thinks I’m crazy now. A big ball of bundles who can’t even do basic math right. I mean seriously, I was getting cells mixed up, and all of the risk free rates confused. Shit, girl, I fucked up.”
Angela combed my hair with her fingers, sitting next to me. She pressed her shoulder against my own, rubbing up and down with her bodyweight. “Look,” she said, “no one’s perfect.”
“This is more than just a minor thing though,” I said. “This is going to influence how he sees me forevermore. He’ll know me as the girl he invited to his apartment because she couldn’t handle the workplace. Maybe I’m not cut out for banking?”
“Hey, don’t talk like that,” Angela said. “You have had a goal now since time immemorial. Hone in on that passion. Don’t let it escape you because of one or two mistakes. Three or four.”
Sniffling, I wiped my nose. “Okay, but he knows that I messed up badly.”
“And this is your chance to… I don’t know, charm him? Get up close to him, show him what you can do,” Angela said. She placed her hands on my hips, jerking them side to side. “You know what I mean?”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “I can’t seduce him. You know me. I’m not… Attractive.”
“That’s just false,” Angela said. “Remember in high school when the football team asked you out together for prom? Yeah. They literally all wanted you.”
“It was a joke,” I said, shaking my head.
Looking back at high school, those football players couldn’t actually have been truly after my heart. Most of them were dumb jocks who made fun of me behind my back. They made cruel jokes about my parents not being able to afford well-crafted clothes.
“I knew those guys,” Angela said. “You’re not seeing things straight.”
“So, some of those guys wanted me for my body. Great,” I admitted. “Fine. But that doesn’t mean they respected me.”
“You’ve built up walls around yourself,” Angela said. “Give Joseph a chance. He’s risen to the top of his industry because he knows how to cultivate talent. Talent like us.”
“Well,” I said, looking at my friend. This was my best friend, after all. “I mean, we did take a test before applying.”
“Yeah, there we go,” Angela said. “Calculus one. Calculus two. Calculus three. Differential equations. What else?”
“There was… Linear algebra. And then basic accounting, economics, both macro and micro. Also intermediate accounting, and then coursework for finance, of course.”
“Right,” Angela said. “We took those tests and proved ourselves worthy of being here. Joseph knows that you have value.”
“Okay,” I said. “I should just… Sleep and come back at this fully rested.”
“We have a meeting tomorrow anyway,” Angela said. “It’s really important that you’re at full capacity, otherwise the mean girls are going to rip you apart.”
Zena. And her friend, Ricarda. Plus the rest of them who never stuck up for me when they came for blood. Thankfully, the silent majority voted team Ophelia during election season. But for how long could I stick around? My momentum would peter out if I didn’t keep up.
“If you cry anymore I’ll feel bad,” Angela said. “C’mon, let’s get you up. How about a yogurt on me?”
“All right,” I said, standing unsteadily on my heels. There would be few places open, but Angela knew a couple spots being the connoisseur that she was. “I’m such a wuss.”
Angela shrugged. “We all have the things that make us cry in life,” she said. “It’s a matter of handling them properly. Just like radioactive waste.”
I laughed. “I’m glad you see my problems like that,” I said.
“Hey,” Angela said, “I never said that you were radioactive waste. Just your… Yeah, your problems.”
Chapter 5
The Lower East Side had much of the suit-and-tie style businesses cramped in and around the area. No wonder many of the stores were just closing up. So many investment bankers still hung around in the streets, looking at their phones, a dull glow of blue in their eyes.
Angela pointed out a yogurt shop glimmering in the darkness. We hobbled over there, stepping through a pair of steel gates, ringing up the front counter. A Chinese man greeted us, asking what we wanted. I got myself mango, Angela cherry. The yogurts were frozen, topped with vanilla icing and strawberries.
Then afterwards we went walking ar
ound the pier, looking at the stars above us, a gentle but nascent summer’s wind blowing on against faces.
“You know something,” I said, pulling my spoon to my lips. The mango tasted delicious, saturating every one of my tastebuds. I pushed aside my hair, collecting my thoughts together. “You know something, Joseph reads really young. He doesn’t look like he’s older than even twenty-five.”
“Which is why he’s such a catch,” Angela said. She sung in between sentences, pop music and rap beats. “He’s really nice to both of us. I can only imagine what he’s like in the bedroom.”