Chapter 5

It wasn't until Mr. Karmichel's Halloween party that things in our routine changed. It was on a Saturday and I had worked on Saturdays before but they were just like any other day, only for the 24th floor, though. Everyone else had the weekend off. Though the days would usually end shorter or we'd come in later. We got to the building at eleven that morning, Mr. Jeff already having been there. He picked me up and told me that we didn't have much to do until eight at night when the party was. He was on the phone all day, discussing things with his managers about certain stores. Then he was on the computer working diligently. It was nice to watch him actually think and invent instead of going to all his meetings and hearing about his money. I went to one of his meetings that he had everyday after lunch. He said I didn't have to go but I decided that I could because I wasn't tired that day. The meeting definitely made me tired, though. It was nothing but money talk. Investments, stocks, money. Blah blah blah. So I never went to one of those meetings again. It looked like Mr. Jeff didn't want to go to those either.

I ended up sleeping a lot that Saturday, on the couch. It was getting cooler in the year, and instead of being a normal person, Mr. Jeff liked to open the windows when it got colder. When it was hot, he kept the windows shut. He was odd, but he brought me a blanket to use. Though I didn't actually use blankets that much. I'd just cuddle up to them but they never really covered me. I'd put them between my legs as I curled into fetal position, and then I'd spoon the blanket basically. Goes to show how lonely I am.

I woke up at three in the afternoon to Pink Floyd's "Wish You Were Here" playing. Mr. Jeff didn't realize I was awake either, and I ended up peeking on him from the couch because he was singing along to the album.

"Well you wore out your welcome with random precision, rode on the steel breeze. Come on you raver, you seer of visions, come on you painter, you piper, you prisoner, and shine!" He had a really nice voice, kind of rough and rock 'n' roll like, like Robert Plant's or Roger Waters'. He was strumming along on a fake guitar, and as Wikipedia said, he knew guitar so I assumed he was playing the right notes. I smiled a little, because my parents were hippies back in the day so they loved Pink Floyd and got me into them. I grew up with them.

"You awake Em?" he asked me, still strumming the imaginary guitar as "Welcome to the Machine" came on.

"Barely," I said tiredly.

A cool breeze came in through the window behind him, his hair blowing out of its normal quaff. He turned down the music and walked over to me, pulled the blanket from me and tossed it into the secret room quickly. He grabbed my arm and forced me to get to my feet. We went and got a quick snack and then returned to the building to get ready for the party.

"Here, you can wear this," Mr. Jeff said, handing me an outfit. He had made a habit of making me change my clothes if he didn't like what I was wearing, or if my clothes weren't tight enough. My costume wasn't really a costume. It was just a pair of really tight black pants and a tight black shirt with a deep V-neck and collar.

"What am I suppose to be?" I asked.

"A salsa dancer," he answered. He went into the secret room and changed in there. Every now and then he'd look at me before going into the room, debating on whether to let me in or not. He came out in a regular black tuxedo.

"You're not wearing a costume?" I asked.

"Of course I am. I'm James Bond." He gave me a cheeky smile and then walked to the windows, pulling down the blinds. "I should've given you a dress. You could've been my Bond girl."

I laughed, kind of wishing he did give me a dress.

Emilio, Michael, Vince, and Donald were waiting in the other room. Emilio was a mime, minus the painted face. Michael was a robber, minus the robber mask. Donald was just wearing a tuxedo. Then Vince was dolled up in drag. Apparently he was a fabulous drag queen every now and then, but it was the first I had seen him. He was a pretty glamorous queen. We all left in a limousine, going to Mr. Karmichel's mansion on the outskirts of the city.

The party was huge, same as his house. He was dressed up as a clown, facial paint and a big red nose and all. He said Halloween had to be his favorite holiday because it was the one day when he could dress up without people looking at him weird.

This is when I learned something new about Mr. Jeff. He actually did have fun. He was still working, though. He'd take a few minutes to take a call, but he managed to have fun while doing so. He was a great dancer. Mr. Karmichel was a crazy dancer, jumping all around, and Mr. Jeff was a casual one, leading the partner. I didn't dance with him, but he'd dance with women who'd ask him. I'd mostly just sit at a table with Emilio, Michael, Vince, and Donald. Luckily I was never left alone. Emilio and Michael would dance a lot but Vince and Donald would stay. When Vince and Donald left Emilio and Michael or Mr. Jeff were there. I only danced a little, with Vince and then with Emilio and Michael.

It was at around two in the morning when we left, with a lot more people than before. Vince had a queen friend come along. Then there were two friends of Emilio and Michael's, and then two friends of Mr. Jeff's. That is also when I learned Mr. Jeff actually did get laid. I never saw him with anyone before, men or women. He was always working. We went to the building and opened a bottle of champagne, sitting on the couches in the room in front of the office, where Michael, Emilio, and Vince's desks were at. It was later in the night when I noticed that Mr. Jeff and his two companions had gone off somewhere. Vince was passed out, asleep with his head in Donald's lap as Donald and their queen friend were talking. Michael was skimming on his computer with one of his friends, and then Emilio, their other friend and I were sitting on the couch, Emilio sitting on the table in front of us.

Emilio yawned. "I'm beat," he said. "Michael, when are we going home?"

"Soon," Michael said from behind the desk. "But you won't be getting any sleep once we do go home."

Emilio smirked, shaking his head.

"Where'd Lafayette go?" asked their friend, a guy named Lucas. He was pretty intoxicated, slurring his words.

"Oh, him and those two boys went off to fool around."

"You mean he actually has sex?" I asked, sipping some of my champagne.

"Duh. He gets laid all the time. You know how he goes to the gym real late?" Emilio asked me.

"Yeah."

"Well he usually picks up some guy or girl or both and brings them here to have sex. It's not every night but it's pretty often. They're just one night stands, though. He doesn't have time for relationships."

"Hm. I never saw him with anyone so I just thought he was a mole person."

Emilio busted out laughing. "A mole person? What the hell does that mean?"

"I don't know exactly. My cousin said it meant someone who hardly has sex."

Emilio laughed more. "Oh man, you're a riot."

"Do you think they'd mind if I joined them?" Lucas asked, nodding to the door.

"Of course not. He always says more the merrier."

"Wonderful," Lucas said, standing, nearly tripping. He went into the office and shut the door. I was jealous as fuck.

"We always tell him to settle down," Michael said, still facing the computer. "It's not that he's too old for hookups or anything, he's just lonely and sometimes I'll see him right after a hookup, and he just looks sad."

"How do you know he's lonely?" I asked. "Does he confide that in you?"

Emilio and Michael shook their heads. "No way," Emilio says. "He never tells us stuff like that. He seems fine a lot but every now and then you can tell he's sad, but he will never talk about it. He's been like that since we've known him."

"I just thought he was serious a lot," I said. I guess there was a difference between being serious all the time and just not being happy.

"Have you ever heard him laugh?" Michael asked.

"Yeah, a few times," I said.

"Well, in all my time of knowing him he never really laughs. I told you he hired you because of your positivity. It's contagious and I can tell it's made him feel better," Michael said.

"I told him to date you instead of promoting you," Emilio said. "But he doesn't want a relationship I guess."

Fuck, why couldn't he have listened to Emilio? And why was he sad?

"You ready to go Em?" Emilio asked. "We'll give you a ride."

"Sure."

We all left, closing the blinds and turning off the lights and they drove me home. I went up to my apartment and lied down on my bed, wondering about Mr. Jeff. I really hated to say it, but I had a major crush on my boss. Just the thought of other people being able to touch him made me so jealous. And I was also upset. Clearly, he wasn't interested in me. Or if he was then he wasn't going to make any mood. He didn't have time for relationships. How could we work together normally if we had some one night stand? Plus, I wouldn't just a one night stand. I'd want a lot more. It was really annoying and slightly depressing to think about it. I mean, bottom line was - Lafayette Jeff and I would never be an item.

-

-

Things went back to their regular routine after Halloween.

The Sunday after Halloween Mr. Jeff picked me up later, probably because he was tired from staying up with three guys. We got to the office at eleven and the flower was there, like usual. I grabbed it and put it in the vase. He made a phone call, we went to a meeting, and then were invited to go to lunch with one of his associates. We returned to the office and he went to his boring money meeting. I didn't sleep that day, though. I lied on the couch and stared out the window, thinking. I was very jealous of the relationship Mr. Jeff had with Emilio, Vince, and Michael. I felt like such an outsider, like one of the wallflowers at a dance. It's one of those really annoying, horrible feelings, like you just feel so stupid and you really just want to change it. You're the fifth wheel with your friends and all you want to do is go home and get away from being the loser. Whenever I saw them together it made me wish I had known them for years, too. They were so comfortable with each other and so loving and friendly. The thought of it made me cry of course, just a few tears. Earlier, Emilio had come in and him and Mr. Jeff were joking around when Emilio tackled him, and they landed on the couch. They were just so comfortable lying together, and although Emilio laughed Mr. Jeff didn't.. It was just so upsetting to sit there and act like I was a part of their bond. I was simply an employee, a co-worker.

"You're not asleep," Mr. Jeff said when he came in.

"No," I sighed, glancing out the window still.

"You okay?"

"Yeah. Tired but unable to sleep," I lied.

He nodded and went to his desk. He skimmed on his computer and then told me, "I like how you do that."

"Do what?" I asked, looking up at him with a tilt of the head.

"Stare out the window. You do it all the time. What do you see?"

"Whatever's out there.

"I feel like you see things most don't, like you look at things differently. It's not just an apartment building. It's not just a man walking."

"Well, I mean it's not. That's someone's home. He's someone's son, a friend. I just like to picture it from other people's perspectives."

He stood up, a light smile on his face, and sat on the arm of the couch. "What were you going to major in when you were at college?"

"Hm? Oh, well I was just gonna major in writing."

"Writing. What do you write?" he asked, not knowing I hated that question.

"Well, I like to write poetry, and stories."

"What type of stories?" Another question I hated.

"Anything really. Stories about the type of people you'd never meet, like those really interesting people you hear about but you don't think are real or otherwise never meet. I put them in weird situations, or I exemplify stereotypes of people and make them oxymorons." I shrugged. "Just whatever comes to mind."

"Ever thought of publishing one?"

"I've never finished one," I confessed, smiling up at him.

"Why not?" he asked.

"I stopped writing once I dropped out, and I started working here. I just haven't had time I guess."

He nodded in understanding. "Well, why not write when I'm not having you do anything? I'd love to read your work."

I shrugged. "I'll eventually get back into it."

He smiled down at me and stood up. He went to his desk and opened a drawer. He pulled out a bottle of scotch and a shot glass. "Thirsty?" he asked.

"No thanks."

He poured himself a shot and put the bottle back. "You know, people would call me an alcoholic for drinking at three. Or when I come back from the gym I open a bottle of wine and help myself."

"I don't think that's an alcoholic. Alcoholics are troubled people. Alcohol consumes them and they drink to solve problems. They don't know when to put the glass down, they can't put it down." At least, I was assuming that's not what he did.. "Some wine actually sounds nice. Getting hammered sounds nice really. Getting wasted and forgetting the night. I could go for that."

"Are you sure you're okay? You seem glum."

I shrugged for the billionth time that day. "I dunno. I'm just meh."

"The mean reds huh?"

"The what?"

"The mean reds. When you're sad or glum and you don't know why."

"Oh. I guess."

"It's from Breakfast at Tiffany's."

"Never seen it."

"We'll have a movie night."

I smiled faintly, but he was wrong. I was just glum because I felt stupid. I wasn't his friend and I doubt we'd be great friends. I wanted something beyond a boss and employee relationship. Anything. Though I knew that he had his best friends and he wasn't looking for a relationship, but even so he still got his kicks with other people. I guess I had just been over estimating the job.

He walked into his secret room and returned with a bottle of wine. He poured me a glass and handed it to me. I drank it, and I knew it was expensive. "Drinking your problems away?" He smirked down at me.

"Of course. How else would I know the description of an alcoholic?" I drank my wine, the one glass doing me good.

"I've been working on a new project," he told me, pouring his own glass.

"What is it?"

"I was thinking that I could create schools."

"Like colleges?"

"No, not colleges exactly. Like a type of pre-college. Lots of people take gap years, you know? This is the time when they could go to one of the schools and learn more about the field of study they're going to major in. I could work with colleges. Or maybe seniors could attend the schools over summer or for a semester. I'd set it up in ways for many students. Lafayette Music School. Lafayette Writing School. I could offer jobs to people who are professionals in the field. Then at the end of the year there will be exhibitions or concerts or seminars and I'll have professionals come in to see these students, save them the time if they go to college or not. Like I have the music school and at the end of the term there's a concert. I bring in musicians or producers who are looking for new clients and if there's a student who's good enough they can skip college and get ahead in the workforce. Or if they don't get a job but they're going to college I can give them scholarships. It'll be brilliant. And it'll be free."

"Whoa - free?"

"Yes. Jonas Salk invented the polio vaccine and made it free. I can make this free. Anyone can go. They just have to fill out some paperwork and go. If they don't do their work and screw around then they'll be kicked out, but they can come back the next year if they want. This will be like me giving away all the money to charities. Even if I lose millions of dollars for doing this I'll still be a billionaire. I can spare money to do this, to give people a better education. Going to these schools will let them be better prepared for college, and it could count as college credit, too. They can take tests to qualify whether they get the credit or not. If they go to these schools it'll look great for them. I'll have the best of the best teachers."

"So what would this cost, overall? I mean, why does it have to cost millions of dollars? Can't you use Lafayette Construction to build or remodel buildings for the schools, and since it's your company surely you can find a way to make that cheaper. Then use Lafayette Furniture to put all the equipment into the stores. Then the only thing you need to do is pay the teachers. I just don't get why certain things have to be so expensive."

He nodded. "We're working on that. I haven't hardly done anything with it, just brainstorming, but it's coming along." He smiled at me. "I'm going to call it the Emerson Project, because it was you who inspired me for it. Oh, I also want to create scholarships, for those that deserve a chance but don't qualify for a scholarship. I mean, there are kids who get full ride scholarships and then win a two thousand scholarship still. Or the kids who don't need scholarships take them away from those that do. There's a lot of, uh, I don't know - a bunch of bullshit when it comes to scholarships. So many kids deserve them but they don't get them because they're different or they didn't play enough sports or volunteered enough. I'm only giving it to the underdogs."

"Where were you when I went to school?"

He smiled. "Here, but now you're here, too. Here." He filled up my glass again and handed it to me. "I promise I'm not trying to get you drunk."

I laughed and took my glass. "This is really good. How can you drink scotch? That tastes so gross. I love all the fruity drinks they have."

He laughed and put the cork back into the bottle, setting it on his desk. "Well, I have a meeting. You don't have to go to it. It's just with Vince."

"Alright. I'll be here."

"You better be." He then left the office and I was all by my lonesome.

I took the time to think about relationships again. There were some people where they just went through so much together that they could never leave one another. Or when you see people in an intimate way, and not intimate as in sexual, but in their vulnerable state. It can really bring people closer. That's what happened with Mr. Jeff and I. A few days later I was sitting in my chair like usual when my cell phone rang. It was just my mother and so I ignored it because I wasn't sure if we were allowed to take personal calls. Though then it rang again and I asked Mr. Jeff if it was okay. He told me yes and I answered it.

"Hello?" I asked.

"Hi Emerson," Mom greeted, the sound of her voice nice because I hadn't heard it in a while.

"Hi Mom. I'm at work right now, you know?"

"I know, but..."

"But what?" I asked, the usual chipperness in her voice gone. I turned in my chair, my back to Mr. Jeff.

"Well...there's no easy way to say this, but Aunt Carmen passed away."

"Oh," is all I could say.

"So, I'm at Granny and Grandpa's house. We've been talking and the showing will probably be the tenth, her funeral the eleventh."

I nodded, but she couldn't see me. I just couldn't form a sentence.

"You can get off work right?"

I cleared my throat, knowing that would diminish the tears. "Yeah. Whether I can or not I'll be there." I cleared my throat again.

"Alright...well, I should let you get back to your work. Love you dear."

"Love you Mom."

"Goodbye."

"Bye."

I hung up the phone and sat there. Death was a very new thing for me. No one had ever passed away in my family. I had just been talking about it a few weeks earlier with Mr. Jeff, about how sooner or later someone was going to pass away in my family. I stood up and left the office, walking to the bathroom. I locked the door and let myself cry, very quietly, though. My aunt Carmen was my mom's older sister, a wonderful woman that I used to see all the time. Thanksgiving was coming soon and we all gathered together, though I wasn't sure if we would this year. I mean, would it be too soon? I wasn't sure, but I was scared. First my aunt, then who? Mom? Dad? Granny?

After a few minutes I walked out of the bathroom, Michael, Emilio, and Vince giving me bizarre looks. I went into the office and stood in front of Mr. Jeff's desk. "What is it Em?" he asked.

"Well, uh, for the tenth and eleventh is it okay if I take those days off?" I asked, scratching the back of my head.

"For what reason?"

"I have to attend my aunt's funeral." Shoot. I started to shake and tear up, hating to say it.

He stood up, a look of compassion and care on his face. "Of course you can Em."

I nodded, wiping my tears but more kept coming. "Sorry, I just..."

"It's fine, Em," he told me gently, putting an arm around my waist, pulling me to him to comfort me. I put my head on his shoulder as he embraced me. "I'm sorry about your loss, Em."

"We just talked about this a few weeks ago," I said, my voice cracking. "It's not suppose to happen, though."

"I know," he whispered. "Do you want me to drive you home?"

"No," I protested. "I can get myself together."

"No, Emmy, I'll take you home. I don't want you to stress yourself out."

"I just..."

He looked at me, knowing what I wasn't saying. I really didn't want to be alone. "You can stay here Em," he told me, putting his hands on my hips. "But you have to promise me something."

"Okay," I said, nodding.

"Alright. Come on." He grabbed my hand and pulled me towards the secret room. He opened it and pulled me inside.

Inside the room was an entire house compacted into one spacious room. To the right was a large dresser with a mirror. To the left was a couch and a TV with some bookshelves. Next to the couch there was a side table and then a huge bed. Next to the bed came a kitchen area, with a fridge, sink, oven, microwave, and cabinets. Then in the back right corner there were curtains that were slightly open to reveal a bathtub, sink, and toilet. In between the bathroom area and the dresser was a washing machine and dryer.

"Why have you kept it such a secret?" I asked.

"Because everyone thinks I live in a massive mansion. Everyone. Only Donald, Vince, Michael, and Emilio know that I actually live here."

"Why?"

"I'm a very private man. I own a mansion and I let my parents live in it. I tell them that I'm always too busy I can never go there. I tell them I'm staying the night in hotels too much, traveling too much. So I need you to promise me that you will never tell anyone that I live here."

I nodded. "I promise."

"Good. This is where I keep your clothes." He walked to the dresser and opened a drawer to reveal my shirts. Below that in another drawer were my pants. The dresser was huge and was in an L-shape, so part of it was against one wall and the other against the adjacent wall. He grabbed a pair of his pajama pants, black silk ones.

"Do you wanna take a shower or something?"

I nodded, needing a relaxing dip in hot water.

"Alright. I'll take your clothes and wash them."

I went into the closed curtain area and changed out of my clothes. I handed them to Mr. Jeff, hiding myself behind the curtain. I took a quick shower and put on his pants, having to pull the strings tight to keep them up since he was bigger than me. He wasn't in the room when I was done, but I collapsed onto his bed, sighing.

Before he came in, I let sleep over come me, hoping for good dreams and not any nightmares that were bound to happen.