Night

When you're fresh out of University and you're running round applying to every single job slightly related to your major, you quickly learn that perserverance and superhuman effort is the key to success. Before I got my big break, I'd only worked one job and it was the most unlikely thing you'd ever imagine an aspiring young journalist and photographer doing - I was a cashier at a local Starbucks. It was a good job, I'll admit, fostered by my love of coffee and Starbucks in general, but as you can imagine it was not what I envisioned as a career. Once I realized I couldn't get excited about being promoted to a barista, I quit and started doing freelance photography to keep myself alive, all the while submitting written work to magazines and newspapers, both major and minor ones. All this while there was someone I admired, someone I aspired to become, my idol and hero - a certain Avery Bryant.

To those who have no idea who I'm talking about, Avery Bryant is a very prominent public figure in New York City, at least in the journalism circle. Just like me, he started out as an ambitious and eager journalism student and through his talent and hard work he landed a spot as a guest reporter in a small-time magazine; he kept trying to go higher, to be better, so he kept applying. Little after he became a resident reporter, he left to chase a job opportunity at a bigger magazine. He started getting famous in his little circle, which then widened, and soon most of the New York journalism enthusiasts were obsessively following his every move - as you've probably noticed, myself included. I could go on for hours but to cut this story short, Avery Bryant owns most of the magazines and newspapers in NYC and still writes for some of them - he's been nicknamed the Prince for his incredible talent, wealth and empire... and he's only thirty-two years old.
I sound like a fangirl, I'm sure. That's because I was, for a long time, before I accidentally met him at the same Starbucks I used to work in. I went up to him, we had a long conversation, and I sent him examples of my work - written, photographic, editorial, investigative. Anything. I wanted to show him how hard I tried and how I could do absolutely everything I could be asked to do in this business. One night I got a call from him - not his assistant, him - and the rest, well, it's history isn't it?

I have to say though I didn't expect him to be the type of boss to call me at one o'clock in the morning, his voice barely audible over the overwhelming sound of male laughter, probably alcohol-induced, asking me to meet him wherever he was with the article I'd just finished. I thought I'd just give it to him in the morning so yes, I'd texted him about finishing it, but such a call when I was buttoning up my trenchcoat preparing to go home was both unexpected and not surprising in the least. He may not look it, but in almost a year working with Avery I have found him to be impulsive, secretive, overly excited with some things and completely indifferent to others and quite manipulative. So I swallowed my pride and my desire to sleep and hailed a taxi to meet him at the elitist sushi restaurant he often dined at with his close group of friends. I must take this moment to remind you that however dedicated to him and work I may seem, I do not have a crush on him. I might have had, once, in my time as his fangirl, but despite him being my boss I would describe our relationship as something similar to bickering but loving siblings.

It was late, I wanted to sleep, I yawned my way to the restaurant with a usb drive in my pocket and a roll of printed paper in my hand, all the while replying to texts on my cellphone, mostly just to stay awake as the senders were probably sleeping. It was a Wednesday, not a Friday, I still had to get up at seven o'clock to show up in the office a little over nine, even though I knew I'd be the first one there - Karl had to commute from Staten Island every morning and Avery... well, his nights are pretty crazy all week long. When I got to the restaurant I was cranky but at least my make-up was intact, so I pushed open the glass doors and asked a waiter about Mr Bryant. He nodded towards a lady at the bar counter, who called a number on wall phone, muttered something and nodded back at the waiter, who only then guided me to the first floor of the restaurant - the private dining rooms.

He slid open a typical japanese panel door, announcing my name. I poked my head in and smiled at the waiter, silently letting him know I didn't need the pomp and circumstance. Avery sat exactly at the middle of a U-shaped table, looking exactly like you'd expect him to look at 1am - silver-blonde hair perfectly combed and slicked back, crisp, ironed white dress shirt with a sharply-tailored grey waistcoat. The rest of his friends all dressed in the same manner, which to a single, old-fashioned girl like me probably meant I was in heaven, but I was (almost) too tired to care. Avery waved at the waiter, who closed the panel door and left. I stood in the middle of the small, brightly lit minimalistic room; as soon as I raised the roll of paper to hand it to Avery, he beamed.
"Anna! So you finally decided to join us!"
"I just came here to bring you the article, Avery. I need sleep."
He laughed, as if I'd just told an awkwardly funny joke. "Oh please. You're young - we're all young! Sleep is for the old."
"You'll get older faster if you don't sleep." One of his friends, whose name at the time I didn't know, commented quickly before taking a sip of what I later found out was warm sake.
"Your wrinkles are making you bitter, Nate." They all broke out in laughter and Avery waved at me. "Come on, sit down. Have a drink with us."
I shook my head decisively. "No, I came to bring you this article. I'm tired, I want to go home."
"I'm not reading it unless you stay." "Avery, you asked me to write this, if you don't read it then you're a fucking moron."
A resounding 'oooooooh' came from the rest of the group, and one of Avery's friends elbowed him. I blinked and waited for a response, not at all surprised at the level of childishness coming from people older than me, even if only by a couple of years. When Avery sighed and flashed me that charming smile of his, I knew there was no other way. I took off my trenchcoat, threw it over the coathanger and forced a smile. Immediately half the men sitting on the sofa got up from the table, making me sit next to Avery. That Nate guy sat on my other side, raised his glass to me and drank the rest of his sake. Avery put his arm around me.
"So glad you're here. I won't let my friends hit on you, I promise."
"Since when am I to believe anything you say?" I was there, I might as well play along with it. Nate covered his mouth, spitting out sake onto his own hand as he started laughing. Patrick, whom I'd met before and sat on Avery's other side, patted him on the back.
"Should you be allowing this from your own subordinate?"
"Should I?" Avery raised his brow at me, to which I smiled innocently.
"Order me some sake?" I wanted to sound assertive, but couldn't. Avery laughed and pressed a button behind him - an intercom of sorts - asking for another bottle of warm sake. Less than five minutes later, it was on our table and Nate was filling my glass. I was still wondering what I'd gotten myself into when I drank the whole glass like a shot. The rest of the table applauded me - they were working men, seeing an intelligent woman drink like that was probably oddly arousing - but I was really just doing it to see if I could get a hangover and not show up at work the next morning, just to teach Avery a lesson. But as Nate filled up my third glass I found myself smiling, laughing, talking. Avery had already slipped the papers into his satchel but at the time I didn't really care anymore. I was actually enjoying myself to a degree unheard of since my university days. Most of the others were already beyond happy and had descended into a state of drunkenness hilarious to those watching, but Nate, Avery and a young man called Ryan remained sane, albeit in a light mood. Avery kept his arm around my shoulders, like an older brother, and Nate seemed to have an incredible resistance to alcohol; Ryan had barely touched his sake. We were chatting on about mindless things and I can't really recall anything specific, except for question Nate asked me completely out of the blue.

"Anna do you like working for Avery?"

I blinked, frowning in suspicion. "Is that a trick question?" Avery laughed behind me and I looked at over my shoulder him. Nate chuckled.
"No, by all means. I'm curious, I've never worked for or with him." He took another sip of sake. "Neither have Patrick or Ryan."
"Oh..." It wasn't a trick question, but it was certainly a tricky one. I thought for a few moments, while Avery pretended to cover his ears. "Well... It's certainly odd." I smiled. "It's not exactly an ordinary work situation as it's only three of us in that office, but I can't complain. Hate to admit it, but I actually really enoy working for him and I don't think I'd accept another job invitation right now."
Nate smiled and nodded at Avery to uncover his ears.
"Did she say I was a manipulative bastard?"
"Yes." Nate smiled and rubbed my shoulder. "She hates you."
Avery filled his own glass of sake and stared into it.
"Good." He said with a clear voice, before flashing me a smile which I returned. He downed his glass.


Less than half an hour later I found myself standing outside in the street talking to Nate, while Avery and Ryan responsibly tried to explain to a shocked taxi driver all the addresses he had to stop at to take the drunk people to their respective homes. Ryan waved at me before getting into the car as well and Avery came up to us.
"I'm sorry, did he hit on you while I was away?" Avery raised a brow at Nate, who was quick to elbow him in the stomach. I laughed, blushing slightly at that thought. Nate was incredibly attractive, almost as beautiful as Avery, though his blue eyes and chestnut hair made him seem like a polar opposite. He was also quite shorter than Avery but still taller than me, though that isn't too hard to achieve.
"Are your hormones on fire today or is it just me?" He commented, while Avery handed me his arm. I linked mine in his and walked between them down the street.
"I'm trying to get you laid-- ow!" I'd stepped on Avery's foot so hard he had to stop to squirm. I wasn't about to be discussed as an object. Nate gave me a high-five, to which Avery sighed. I linked my arm in his once more and we resumed our stride, trying to walk off the effects of alcohol before both of them had to drive home. I'd never been with Avery like that except for that one time I had to take care of him while he was sick and it was my first time meeting Nate and I can honestly say, looking back, that was one of the best nights I've ever had - I didn't even for a second think something was missing, however mean this might sound to poor Karl. When Avery finally decided to look at his watch it was well past four o'clock in the morning. He clapped once.
"I believe it's time to go home." He smiled at me and I nodded.
"I promise not to come to work before noon." He ruffled my hair as if saying 'good girl'. Nate yawned.
"You're taking a taxi home, right?" "What, at this time?" Nate interjected, then looked at me. "Where do you live?"
I blinked, caught off-guard. I actually had to think for a moment and I think I remember stuttering. "Uhm... meatpacking district..."
"Nate can drive you."
"I can, I live right nearby. Not like this bastard with his own penthouse on 5th."
Avery smiled smugly, then hugged me. It took me a minute to realize this was happening but I managed to have some time to hug him back. There was something oddly charming about Avery outside work. He let me go and threw Nate a threatening look. "Keep her safe."
We waved at him as he turned around and went back the way we'd came, as his car was parked near the restaurant. As soon as he disappeared into the distance, Nate and I continued walking until we reached his car. It was early Spring, fairly warm though sometimes a chilly wind came and made me raise my trenchcoat collar to my face. Nate had buttoned up his slate-blue blazer.
"Where did you and Avery meet?" I dared to ask. The silence was comfortable, not awkward at all, but curiosity had been biting at me since he'd mentioned it. Nate chuckled and continued facing forward.
"University party. I studied advertising." He smiled at me. "Found him making out with my girlfriend."
I bit my lip. Nate continued, not allowing me to apologize. "I kicked his ass before even knowing his name. After I broke up with my girlfriend, Avery and I got to talk and became good friends."
His car was nothing less than what I'd expect from Avery's friend - black, sleek, elegant sports car that seemed like it could kill me with its pinky if it were a person. I stopped in front of it as Nate went to open the door for me. He smiled up at me but I wouldn't move.
"What's wrong?"
"Are you sure you don't mind?" I was completely taking advantage of someone I barely knew. No one ever drove me home, no one ever did my any favours except for my parents, and seeing as they were back in the UK I was pretty much on my own. Nate laughed, which I thought was odd.
"You're so weird! Come on, just have a seat. Car won't bite you."
I tried to smile but truthfully I was very nervous. Maybe deep down I was already aware I was growing fond of him despite never having met him before that night. I thanked him for holding the door for me and sat inside the car, buckling in. As soon as I was settled in he was already next to me, turning the ignition key. We drove off into the city and I took the chance to look out the window and see the lights rushing by as Nate blasted 90s rock in his car stereo. This was probably the closest thing I'd ever had to a date, sadly.
"You look thoughtful." Nate awoke me from my inner dialogues and I couldn't help but blush. It was probably just the alcohol, I'd be fine the next morning, I was sure.
"I'm just a little tired. I get distracted easily when I'm tired."
He smiled and didn't comment. Instead, he pressed a numbered button on his car radio and switched it to a calm music station. I laughed. "Are you trying to make me fall asleep in your car?!"
"Maybe."
For the first time, I had no answer.

When we pulled up to my house, I didn't move for a while. I was unsure if I should say goodbye while preparing to leave, or say it first and leave after. Thinking about this made me think of why this was even on my mind and when I finally noticed we'd been sitting in silence for over five minutes. I put on my best charming smile, trying to cast away my introspective look.
"Thank you for driving me home."
"Don't thank me yet. Come on." He unbuckled his seat belt and opened his door. I tried to figure out what he was doing but no answer came until he showed up on the other side, opening my door for me. "Why are you still sitting there? Come on."
Confused, I stood up and got out of the car. We were only a few feet away from the doorway. He closed the passenger door behind me and looked at me as if he expected me to do something. I just walked towards the stairs and up the steps. Nate followed me suitly. I stopped before turning the key.
"You know..." I turned around to look at him. I was embarassed and flattered at the same time, also completely baffled. Why someone would actually take me to my door in such a short distance I had no idea. "You didn't have to do this. I'd be fine just crossing the street."
"I know, you can take care of yourself." He didn't even fight it. I sighed and turned the key, unlocking the door. I didn't know what to say. I actually found myself willing to say something flirty for the first time in my life - again, blame it on the sake - but I had no idea how that kind of thing was even supposed to leave my brain, let alone my mouth. So I just smiled silently at him, and just as I opened my mouth to say goodbye, he took out his blackberry.
"What's your number?" Nate said it so casually he almost sounded like Avery. I tried not to smile too much and gave it to him. He typed it out and saved it quickly, then slipped the phone back into his suit pocket. The way he smiled at me after that made me want to shrink myself into one of the catterpillars crawling up the wall to my balcony.
"I won't call you at random hours, but I might text you at some weird time - say, 5am - to ask you out for breakfast the next morning."
"That's okay."
"What will you text me back?"
I blinked and played along.
"I'll ask you where."
He smiled again and stared at me for a while. I just pulled my coat tightly against me, as if snuggling into it gave me some sort of security against whatever I was feeling right then. He looked over his shoulder at his car, then up at the brightening skies, then back at me.
"Well, I should go. I'll talk to you soon."
I nodded and waved as he walked down my doorway steps. When he reached his car and opened his door, before he got in he looked back at me.
"Don't stay up waiting for my text."

I laughed, wondering how I would ever get up before eleven. Maybe I could dare being a little mor e cheeky than usual. Maybe I could dare to be myself instead of just a shadow.

"As if."