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mean,
you had to have noticed,” he played.
    “More of a Monday by the minute.
So, you brought me here to show me how charming you are?”
    “I am no gentlemen, I think we
established that, how old are you?”
    “How old are you?”
    “Google it.”
    “Ahh... but that’s right! You can’t
Google me! Well, damn, I have one up on you!”
    “And I can just swiftly…,” he grabs
Jordy’s purse before she can blink.
    “Jordania Wilson,
2123 Central St Unit 4A, born in 1979. Well, that makes you 33, almost 34,” he says, in a
comical tone, reading off her license.
    “Can I have my shit back or are we
doing the whole ‘purse contents will tell me everything about you’ game?”
    He handed it back to her with an
all-knowing demeanor.
    “Old, huh?” She smiles at him,
knowing he has at least five years on her.
    He leaned down in front of her. “No
baby, just not young and completely assless. Ha.” He sat back on the
couch opposite of her, picks his pasta up and starts eating again. It was one of
those laughs again. She had to take a breath. She ate most of her pasta and
they sat in a few uncomfortable silences before he spoke up.
    “Let’s go back and listen, or are
you tired?”  He seemed concerned.
    “No, I am fine and I kind of want
to since I really didn’t get to hear it the first time,” she lowered her eyes
and knew he was staring at her again. She was tempted to scream stop it! But,
she knew she never would. She liked it. And, he was making fun of her ass.
Thank God he thought that was her only flaw so far. Jordy knew she was not
curvy. She had some bust, but she was by no means a Maxim girl. She was
described, once, by a friend as a little too beautiful ‘girl next door’.
She agreed when she heard that; that she would take it. She didn’t have
to be perfect, and her looks were not something she was sensitive about. But
when he talked about her ass, she wishes she had one.
     
    “So, you must be an ass man?” She
snickered behind him, using it as an insult rather than a question she was
worried about.
    “Jordy, don’t even try to quip like
me. Don’t even try,” he said, crossing into the recording room again. This time
they were alone.
    “Where is everybody?”
    “We have been at it since last
night, I am sure they went home.”
    “All night and today?”
    “I have a room here, I sleep and
shower, it’s not that bad.”
    “You must be exhausted,” she said,
concerned, until he gave her a “lady do you have an idea how long I have been
doing this give me a break with your bullshit concern” look.
    “But, hey, what do I know? I am just
a mouse pusher,” and to that, he smiled.
    Thank God for that, Jordy thought.
     
     He was immersed in his work
right away. It was almost like a switch flipped and he didn’t see her at all.
It was ok with Jordy, though, she finally had a chance to drink him in.
    He wasn’t wearing a hat this time,
just a black t shirt and jeans, his black hair barely visible due to a very
short haircut. He had on some Jordan
sneakers and necklace, but not the big display that most rappers wear, just a
simple platinum necklace.
    A star , she thinks.
    His face was gaunt and a little
pale, but he was perfect.
    She admired his chiseled chest
under his shirt, brilliant blue eyes, strong nose, and thin lips.
    She soaked it all in, her eyes
traveling down, all the way past his waist to his shoes and back up.
    He wasn’t paying attention to her
at all at this point completely and she didn’t mind at all. She felt her mind
slipping to the ‘what ifs’ and for the first time in three days she went with
it.
    Listening to his music was nothing
new, loving it wasn’t either.
    Looking at him was a whole
different story.
     
    So, she is staring at me now.
    He is fully aware of it.
    She thinks what the rest of them
do. I can just take it now, if I want to, clip those wings send her ass home,
stop pretending to be a nice guy.
    Fuck her, make her cry, and then
send her