Chapter 8

He pulled us up as Suzie’s Uber got there too, and I couldn’t help but lean down and give him a kiss on the cheek, through the driver’s window. He’d been so dejected last night.

He saw Suzie though, so as I left, he slapped my ass and yelled at the top of his voice, “go get ’em, hot stuff! Make them all wet!“

I cringed and wondered what on earth he was trying to accomplish.

I got into the elevator with Suzie and stared at the button for our floor.

“Jesse is… enthusiastic.”

“Yes, you can definitely say that.” I said dryly.

“Let’s have dinner tonight. I should explain.” She said slowly.

“Okay.” We were nearing our floor. “Thai or Korean?”

“Okay.” The elevator doors dinged open.

The day passed agonizingly slow. I made reservations at a Korean barbecue place I know she likes, and she hopped in my car at the end of the day.

“So! How was your day?” I asked playfully as I drove.

She leveled an impassive gaze at me, and I grinned.

“You know full well how my day was.”

“I dunno! Maybe something happened in the fifteen minutes between going to visit the marketing building and walking back.”

It’s usually a lot easier than this. I didn’t like it. Even when we argue, it was still communication and we eventually reach some resolution.

This was listless. Like if she’d already given up.

We ordered, and it was delicious. I love the little meats and bowls of different toppings. Also Korean beer.

When dinner was winding down, she started her speech.

“Mor, we’ve been working together for five years.”

“Yeah, it’s been fun.”

“It has! I really love working with you!”

“Well, you know performance reviews are coming up?”

“Yeah.” I started to panic. I thought I was hitting all my goals.

“I was speaking to Ken, the VP, and he thinks we should offer you an actual sales rep position.”

“Really?” I wasn’t expecting that.

I think my eyebrows went higher. “Wow!”

She was still quiet, looking at me stoically.

“And what do you think?” I pressed.

“I–don’t think you should take it.”

“Why not? It’s good money.” I frowned, surely she wouldn’t be petty enough to want to keep me as her assistant forever.

“I think you should write full time and quit the company.”

My mouth was hanging open. “Wait, are you firing me or promoting me?”

“I’ll do what it takes to get you writing. You need to do this.”

“Don’t tell me–” I took a deep breath, and continued a little less incensed, “It’s my choice what I do and don’t do, unless you’re firing me. But it sounds like you’ve already made my decision for me. What am I supposed to do for living expenses if I’m a starving author?”

“I thought about that. I’m sure you have at least a couple of month’s worth of savings, right?”

I stared her down stubbornly. I did have about four month’s worth saved up but I wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction.

“So do what you feel comfortable, stay in your apartment, move in with Jesse, or…” She seemed nervous now.

“Move into my guest house.”

She kept a pretty little cottage that was little more than a shed in the backyard where she went to read and lounge in garden.

“What?” I was being thrown for a loop every few seconds and even that made me irrationally angry.

“Yeah. I won’t charge you rent for a few months, and we can work it out later. I just want you to focus on getting this done.”

“You don’t even know if this will work out! You’re nuts!”

“How far along are you?”

“Like three quarters, I guess.”

“And you’re inspired to keep writing?”

“Jesse has a lot of faith in you. He thinks you can do this too. Be a published author.”

My eyes glazed over as I had an image of a hard cover book with my name on it. “He’s my best friend, it’s his job to be supportive.”

“The pages I read were objectively good. Funny and insightful. I couldn’t put it down.”

“I don’t know. This is all happening really fast.”

“Of course! Take your time. Last thing though, do you believe this novel can be awesome?”

“Yes.” I said firmly.

“Do you believe you can finish it the way you want to?”

“Less sure, but it’s going well.”

“So, go for it! You have me, you have Jesse, you have your family. Dedicate some real time for what you actually want to do and see what happens.”

I started to get excited. My blood started to move faster in my veins and I started to get the urge to do something crazy to commemorate the feeling. Like pier jumping, graffiti-ing the side of a wall, or streaking through the city.

I looked at her and she stared back. She smiled slowly, and I matched it.

I started to giggle, and she laughed with me until we were both crying, drawing the attention of other patrons.

“Is everything all right over here?” The waiter asked nervously.

“Great!” I stood up and clinked my fork against my beer bottle. “Listen every one! I just wanted to give a special announcement. My first novel will be published soon and I hope you all thoroughly enjoy it.”

Suzie was still giggling behind her napkin but put it down to clap enthusiastically.

There were a few awkward claps amongst the tables, and the waiter started to look more upset.

“That is all, thank you.”

“Would you like your bill?” He asked us dryly.

“Yes, please.” The intense eye contact was back between Suzie and I. My errant mind was going into dangerous waters of cohabitation mingled with stupid porn plots.

“I don’t know, Mor…”

I was in Jesse’s living room the next day, giving him the play-by-play of the night before.

“What’s not to like? The space is adorable, kitchen use and main house restroom included. Waived rent for three months in a posh neighborhood. I don’t have to work, so all my time will be spent on finishing the book. It’s all wins!”

“It sounds great! But you both need to remember this is a business transaction, first and foremost. Not a favor, just an investment in a new enterprise. In fact, if you could start paying her rent immediately, that would probably be safer.”

“Safer for who? She’s not going to sue me!”

“You never know, Mor. When there’s money involved, you need to protect yourself. Why do you think you and I have never been roommates?”

“Because you are an insufferable neat freak, and I can’t stand it.”

“No. Because money shouldn’t be a factor between friends. I care too much about your friendship to have a falling out about who paid who and the weirdly changing dynamics.”

“That’s your view, Jess. I don’t think the same way.”

“That’s my view because I’ve seen it. Dude, as soon as I start making consistent money, I’m getting my own apartment and I’ll be out from under my dad’s thumb.”

I was struck again by the situation my friend was in. His family was accustomed to using money to manipulate each other.

“I’ll keep all your concerns in mind, Jess. But this is what I want. I swear I’m putting my writing first. It may be temporary, but if this helps to get into a stride, then it would be a good thing, right?”

He breathed in heavily and looked at me. “Yeah, man. You’re right. I’m proud of you for taking a step this big. You’re going to be a famous author in no time.”

I grinned and took his shoulders to shake him roughly.

“Duude!” I shouted, and he laughed, gripping my wrists.

Once I settled down, we kept talking.

“In the next couple of weeks. I’ll let my landlord know tomorrow, and Su is laying me off so I get a severance package and some perks. All aboveboard of course.”

“It makes sense to do it the final week of the month though. I need to go buy some cardboard boxes.”

“Can I help you move?”

“Of course! I’d love that, Jess!”

He opened a bottle of champagne, ordered dumplings to celebrate, and we watched our guilty pleasure, Titanic, for the millionth time that night.

Suzie was wearing jeans, sneakers, and a carefully tied bandana over her hair to keep it out of her face.

We were lugging all my worldly possessions from my old place to her guest house one Saturday, and Jesse stared at her when he first saw her.

We lagged behind her while he whispered to me. “Dude, this is weird! I don’t think I’ve ever seen her in sneakers before!”

I laughed quietly, already having seen her in many states of undress and with no makeup.

“She looks adorable.”

“Well, the jeans are nice.”

I pushed the box I was carrying into the side of his arm and glared at him. He was referencing her round bottom in her brand name jeans.

He faced me, and shoved the box he was carrying into mine; we started a fight with our boxes.

“What the hell are you two doing?” She caught on to our play-fighting.

We were going at it, and I was having a blast. I didn’t have brothers of my own, and I loved whenever we played like this.

I slammed into him and I heard an “oof” from him.

I made a show of putting my box down, and faked a karate pose.

“You believe you are the superior fighter but experience will show… you are not!” I stomped my foot in front of me and yelled a psuedo-karate cry.

He smiled slightly, and immediately struck a pose too.

“You forget! I have been trained in the secret arts of the Shaolin monks of Boston, young one. You are no match for me! Give up now and there will be no bloodshed.”

I yelled as I rushed him. I heard a giggle on the offsides, and I showed off a little more for her. We went through a slightly coordinated fight based on our favorite karate movie and let out yells here and there. We always took turns dying, and he must’ve thought I needed to win this time because he took it easier on me and when I fake-punched his chest, he contorted his body, crumpling to the ground in defeat.

“You are my better, Moriah-san… Please! If you ever face my sensei, let him live. He was as… a father to me.”

I bowed to him in acceptance.

“Thank you.” He died with an over-the-top twitch.

Suzie clapped as the scene came to a close. Jesse got up, and we both bowed in exaggeration.

“You both are nuts but very entertaining. Can we please get back to work now, though?”

We went back to loading everything and unloading at her house. She actually drove her nice luxury SUV and we made it all in one trip.

I was setting up the giant bookshelf with all my favorite books, and admired how the wooden structure took up most of the tiny wall. Jesse was having snacks in the kitchen as he took a break, and Suzie was serving him.

“You’re doing the opposite of what I asked you to do, Suzie.” He said to her back.

She froze for a second in the middle of pouring him a glass of milk for his cookies.

“I asked you to choose one way or the other, not go further and further into this weird gray area.” He continued relentlessly.

“I only want what’s best for her, Jess. She needs to be doing what she loves already.”

“Yes, and this can all be a brilliant idea or crash and burn and leave her a million times more broken than her last breakup.”

“I only want to push her to keep writing. Then after that…” she trailed off.

“What exactly? What are your plans, Suz? Please enlighten me.”

“Just, give me some more time, Jess! I don’t know!”

“You better damn well be sure sometime in this century, Suzie, because I warned you not to fuck with my friend.”

“I’m not! I just want her to be okay. But I’m not ready to let her go, all right?” She hugged herself, and Jesse sighed.

“What are we having for lunch today? I kind of wanted–” Moriah came through the back door and into the kitchen.

“What’s–going on?” She looked back and forth between Jesse and Suzie’s stern faces.

“Nothing. You want lunch?” Suzie asked quickly.

“Yeah, that’d be cool.”

“Okay.” She walked into the hallway.

Moriah gave a bewildered stare to Jesse and he shrugged, munching on his cookies. She stole some cookies and eventually they all went out to lunch together.

The next five months were a rollercoaster of emotions. It was awesome to be around Suzie outside of work. It was further proof that we could continue to be in each other’s lives outside of our company. It was mutual affection that kept bringing us together.

Our arguments now were not work related anymore, though, they were much more personal; there were a few nights I drove over to Jesse’s, angrily, to vent about whatever our stupid fight was about.

“She says I’m not applying myself. What the hell? As if she knows what the creative process is like!”

He was lounging in his gaudy robe, drinking wine, and letting me vent.

“She doesn’t know that I have to find inspiration first and then the words come. I can’t have a 9 to 5 creative job! What if I wake up in the middle of the night and feel inspired to write? Should I just say, ‘no, sorry! I’m off the clock’?”