Kapitel 11: CHAPTER 11

I struggled all day to focus on anything, no matter how hard I tried. I went for a brisk run at noon, but my thoughts were still on the morning's happenings. By three o'clock, I realized I needed to get away. I sighed as I approached the elevator and made the decision to take the stairs instead, only to later learn that this was an even worse error. I ran down the 18 flights of stairs quickly.

Later that evening, I drove up to my parent's home and felt a wave of relief. As soon as I entered the kitchen, I was greeted with the comforting smells of my mother's cooking and my parents' happy conversation coming from the dining room.

My mother called out "Robert" as I entered the space. I let her try to straighten my frizzy hair as I knelt down to kiss her cheek. I swatted her hands away, grabbed a big bowl from her, set it on the table, and pulled a carrot out of it. Who is Henry? I looked toward the living room and asked.

My dad entered the room and said, "They haven't come yet. Henry was a challenge even by himself, so it was a wonder they ever managed to leave the home with his wife and children. I went to the outside bar to make my mum a dry martini.

I entered the foyer to meet them when mayhem broke out twenty minutes later. Small and bouncy, she hurled herself at my knees with a toothy smile. The young girl shrieked, "Benny!"

I grabbed Sofia and kissed her cheeks all over.

Henry said, "God, you're pathetic," as he passed me.

As if you were any superior.

Mina joined in, escorting her husband into the dining room. "Both of you should just shut up if you ask me," she said.

Sofia, the family's princess, was the first grandchild. She liked to sit on my lap throughout supper as usual, so I tried to eat in a way that avoided her "help." She had me firmly grasped in the tip of her little finger.

My mother handed me a bottle of wine and said, "Robert, there's something I've been meaning to ask you," Would you ask Emily to dinner the following week and make every effort to get her to go?

When I moaned in response, my father gave me a swift kick in the shin.

Seriously, why do people keep requesting to have her over? I inquired.

My mother sat up straight and displayed her "Firm Mother" determination. She is alone herself in an unfamiliar city.

She's been living here since she graduated from college, Mom," I interjected. She is 26 years old. She no longer finds this city to be unfamiliar.

Actually, Robert, you're right, she said, her voice taking on an odd edge. She moved to this country to attend college, received her summa cum laude, spent some time working for your father, and then joined your department, where she has shown to be your greatest worker. She has been going to night classes the whole time to get her degree. I want Emily to meet someone because I believe she's fairly fantastic.

Her words hit me hard, and my fork stuck in the air. My mother wanted to introduce her to someone. I quickly eliminated every single man after mentally going through all the single males we knew. Brad: too little. Damian is an adulterer. Gay Kyle. Scott is illiterate. This was definitely unusual. My chest tightened, but I couldn't place the exact reason why. What would I name it if I had to describe it? Anger?

The reason why I was furious at my mother for trying to set her up? Most likely as a result of your relationship with her, you moron. Actually, it's more like being in a sexual relationship than being engaged. Okay, OK, I had two affairs with her. The phrase "having sex" suggests an ongoing relationship.

Oh, and don't forget that I improperly grabbed her in the elevator and have been storing her ripped underwear in my desk drawer.

Creepy.

I put my hands up to my face. Okay, I'll speak with her. Don't, though, get your hopes up. It won't be simple since her charisma isn't really abundant.

My brother chimed in, "You know, Ben, I think everyone here would agree that you're the only one who has trouble getting along with her."

I scowled as I saw heads nodding in accord with my illiterate brother.

The remainder of the evening was spent talking nonstop about how I ought to try to treat Miss Brown better. They couldn't stop complimenting her and saying how she would get along with Joel, the kid of my mom's closest friend. Joel was okay, I guess, but he screamed like a baby when a baseball struck his shin in tenth school and played with Barbies until he was fourteen.

He would be gnawed up by Brown and spat out.

I laughed to myself at the idea.

We also spoke about the meetings we had planned for the next week. On Thursday afternoon, I would be joining my father and brother for a major one. I was aware that Miss Brown had previously properly arranged everything. She was always two steps ahead, anticipating my every need, as much as I hated to acknowledge it.

Even though I had no clue when I would ever see her in the next few days, I departed with the pledge that I would do my best to persuade her to come. I seldom spent time at the office because of the many meetings and appointments spread across the city, which made me frustrated most of the time.

The next day, as we crept along South Michigan Avenue, I glared out of the window and questioned if my day would ever get better. Being snarled up in traffic was awful. I actually considered asking the driver to turn back so I could get out and walk to the office, which was just a few streets away. We had barely been able to cross three blocks in the twenty minutes we had left before four o'clock. Perfect.

I closed my eyes and leaned against the seat, thinking back on the meeting I had just left. The contrary had occurred: nothing had gone wrong. Our recommendations were well-received by the customers, and everything went without a hitch. But I was stuck in my miserable attitude.

For the last three hours, Henry had made it a point to tell me that I was acting like an angry adolescent every fifteen minutes. I wanted to smack him in the face by the time we signed the contracts. He kept asking me what the heck was wrong, and to be really honest, I couldn't blame him. Even I, which is saying a lot for me, had to confess that I had been rude the last several days. Naturally, Henry had the arrogance to claim that my issue was just a desire to be laid as he turned around to go home.

I wish he had known.

There had only been one day. It had only been one day after the elevator event that left me achingly aroused and wishing I could touch every surface of her body. I seemed as if I hadn't had sex in six months by the way I was behaving. However, I had only avoided touching her for two days when I suddenly felt insane.

Once again, the automobile halted, and I wanted to scream. My driver grinned at me and lowered the divider between the front and rear seats.

Mr. Ramirez, I'm sorry. There, I can see that you're losing your mind. Only four blocks separate us. Would you rather go for a walk? We had pulled up just in front of La Perla, I saw as I peered out the tinted windows. If you wish to go inside, I can stop.

I exited the vehicle before he could complete his thought.

I was waiting to cross the street while standing on the curb when I suddenly realized that I had no idea what I was attempting to accomplish by entering. My strategy was what? Was I going to purchase anything or just let myself go through torture?

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