jack
I think I'm going to die in this elevator it's so stuffy. I never understood why the elevators are always full, it's rare when I use this section and it's empty. I hate elevators! There are always people who talk shit. I have a friend who always says, “Jack, stop being silly. Only you who have a problem with elevators.” I have no patience with idiotic people like her who love to talk that shit. I'm terrified.
And to make it even better, my friend's son of a bitch has a multi-story company here in New York. I keep thinking... if his company couldn't have a maximum of two... He couldn't have a company on the ground floor, or even with one or two floors, but of course not, he likes to see me suffer, he can only .
I look at my clothes to see how I look. Not bad, in my humble opinion: basic jeans, with a rock t-shirt, coat and sneakers. I'm fine like this, I run my hand down my back lightly so that no one will notice that I'm carrying a gun. It's already a fucking embarrassment to walk through the lobby and the alarms go off because of the metal detector. That's when I want to kill my friend. I still had to hear his laugh teasing my face. I breathe a sigh of relief as I step off the damn elevator.
I walk towards his office, but before that I stop at his secretary's desk, who just by looking at her realizes she's a bitch, I don't know how he could hire her. In my opinion, he just might have a problem with hiring a woman who's written all over her face: bitch. I give a fake smile and ask the peroxide blonde in front of me:
— I came to see Mr. Monteiro. The fake dog Barbie looks me up and down like I'm an unidentified species. And says:
— Mr. Monteiro, at the moment, he is busy and will not be able to attend to you.
The cow tells me this in a very ironic tone, which I soon imagine he must be fucking her, who, in turn, imagines that I'm another one who's gone out with him. Who does she think she is? Looking at it, the donkey must be eating it, it just can't. And this one must think I'm his little fling.
— Hummm really. Let me know that Jackeline Baptista is here and, for your knowledge, I don't need to schedule an appointment, my daughter.” I say this with my patience running thin.
'So, Senhora Baptista, he's really busy and won't be able to answer you.' I'll make an appointment with him for next week. November 3rd at 9 am. Are you ok? Does Barbie really think I'm going to wait to be seen next week?
Has she gone crazy? Same? I take out my cell phone, call my asshole friend's number and hear a voice saying:
— Rafael Monteiro. — Wow how the son of a bitch can be serious when he wants to be.
— Please, Mr. Monteiro? I ask knowing it was the idiot.
“Yes?” he replied.
— You fool! Would you please come out here and tell your “BITCH” secretary that I don't need to make an appointment to talk to you. —I say all of this in a very sweet and mocking way. I hear a good laugh and he says:
“Only yourself, Jack. “And the human beast keeps laughing in my face. sucker.
— He finished? I ask. “Thanks,” I reply dryly.
"I'm on my way there, my love." He says in a passionate tone.
— There's no use talking like that, using that tone with me, Rafa. Don't stick with me!
I turn off the cell. It doesn't take long, about two minutes, I hear the door open and see Rafael point at the door to his office. As always, a cat. The good thing about being friends is that we were never interested in being together. We were always companions, I confess that sometimes he was a pain in the ass, but I love him the way he is.
"My God, how beautiful you are!" He says it in an amused tone. And I just glare at him, making him laugh again.
“Rafa, you're such an idiot,” I grumble.
“You love me,” he teases.
— Oh, poor thing! You really think you are — I mock.
He comes to me and hugs me. I give my arm twisting and say I love these moments. I know and he knows it, because I'm not one to show it off and easily say what I feel to the four winds. When he lets go of me, he turns to the dumb, watery blonde at the secretary and says:
— Cristina, whenever Miss Baptista comes here at the office, you can let her in, I don't need to be notified.
— But, Mr. Monteiro, I've never seen her around here. I thought she was another one of the girls who come here to see you. Do you understand me? She says looking at me with disdain.
“I don't understand and I don't want to understand. Please, Cristina, put yourself in her shoes. Please! He says in a serious tone.
— Yes sir! - This Cristina replied in a sad tone.
“Now, please, I'll be busy talking to Miss Baptista and I don't want to be interrupted. Understood?
— Yes, you can, Mr. Monteiro!” Cristina replies with a look that glares at me.
“Fine,” he says and looks at me. “And you, Miss Troublemaker, come into my office now.
— Yes sir. I salute and enter his room bursting into laughter.
"Jack, for God's sake, can you be nicer to others?"
— I'm nice, Rafa. — I ironically.
— Wow, you sure are. — He scoffs and walks over to the sofa where there's a fridge.
“Rafa, you know me. Now, since you're near the fridge, can you grab a cold Coke? For me? – I ask him, already feeling his mouth water from the wonderful taste of Coca-Cola.
“Because I know you the way I know you, I already knew I'd want the damn Coke. Dude, you're so addicted.
“I don't think so,” I reply, sitting on the couch, feeling like I'm at home.
— Are you comfortable? he asks in a mocking tone, seeing me practically lying on the couch.
“Very good, you have good taste,” I tease, receiving a can of Coke and continue to say,
“Thanks for the coke,” I say, taking a good sip of the drink, feeling it go down my throat and I feel calmer.
— Wow, I didn't know that a drink works miracles, you look like someone else - he says with a tone bordering on irony.
“How childish you are. I roll my eyes.
“I'm a good friend,” he declares with a wink at me and I roll mine again at him.
I watch him sit down on the other couch.
— I know, do you have a doubt?
“Which one, Jack? he asks curiously.
"What's with the silicone Barbie out there?" I ask, already imagining the answer.
— Haha ha. Jack, she's a good secretary,” he answers in an innocent tone.
— Rafa, she must be really good in bed, Aff, you couldn't hire a good secretary, could you?
'But she's good!' he says, laughing and winking. “I knew you shared the same opinion as Alex,” he says, rolling his eyes.