Chapter 5
The most beautiful man walks into the office with a venomous look in his eye while Javier shows me the membership sign-up papers, the requisite signatures for the waivers, and the dues that need to be collected.
I made the effort to give him my sweetest smile before introducing myself. I didn’t know who he was, but I wanted to make a good first impression. I tried not to stare at how big he was. His frame filled the whole door, and his eyes were the color of warm chocolate under his cold stare. It didn’t matter if he was rude or staring at me with cruelty on his gorgeous face. I want everyone to like me so they don’t have a reason to fire me. I need this job to survive. I can do the work, but getting along with everyone is important.
When Javier informed me that he was his brother, my hands began to tremble. A tiny drop of sweat slid down my lower back. It meant he was also my boss. Unlike Javier, he wasn’t overjoyed to have me here.
It’s been ten minutes since Javier left after his brother. The dusty office looks like it hasn’t been cleaned in over a year. A layer of dust coats everything. Documents and manila folders are strewn around the desk and on the floor, along with unopened mail from two months ago.
Behind me is a credenza that holds a dusty copy machine, and stack of paper. Alongside the wall is a pile of brand-new T-shirts and sweaters with the gym’s logo on the floor. Pens are scattered on the desk. The tape holder has a cloud of dust under the strip of clear tape. Paper clips litter the floor beneath the desk. Sticky notes hang on the computer screen. The office is a complete mess.
I take a breath and then let out a sharp cough. Dust floats off the keyboard from a late-model computer. A shame it’s covered in dust. The trash in the corner overflows with wads of paper and plastic water bottles.
I spot a few picture frames of Javier and his brother wearing boxing gloves in a fighter’s stance. The similarities are unmistakable, except his older brother is taller and bigger in build. Javier looks like a younger version of him. They both have a tan complexion, straight black hair shaved on the sides, a sharp jawline, and expressive eyes. They are both good-looking, but from what I’ve seen, they have different personalities.
Javier is laid-back and a lot of fun. His brother seems to be quiet and a complete jerk. The way he stared at me made my heart race. I became very self-conscious of how I looked. If I was wearing the right clothes for the job. If he could tell I hadn’t slept from the dark circles I was trying to hide.
I get busy, not wanting them to think I don’t lack initiative. The warehouse was converted into a boxing gym. The sounds of men’s voices and fists striking bags echo off the walls. The odor is reminiscent of musty sweat and vinyl. I’ve never been to a boxing gym, but the office smells the same. It’s only mingled with dust and paper. Maybe they wouldn’t mind if I brought an air freshener after I cleaned it up.
Fifteen minutes later, Javier walks in, running his fingers through his hair.
“Is everything alright?” I ask.
He shuts the door, opens the blinds, and looks out the window. He places his hands on his hips for about a minute, like he is lost in thought.
After a few seconds, he turns around and sits in the chair in front of the desk.
“That was my brother.”
“He seemed upset. Is everything okay?”
A look of unease crosses his face, and I notice he doesn’t look me straight in the eye. A sick feeling turns in the pit of my stomach. Did I do something wrong?
I replay what happened since I walked in. I saw Javier, waved, smiled, followed him to the office, sat down, and waited for him to explain what to do next. He started off by giving me details on what was expected. Then his brother walked in, and I gave him a small smile. Introduced myself…
Javier clears his throat and scoots forward. He slides the sleeves of his hoodie up each forearm and begins to look for what I assume is the job application.
From what I’ve learned at school in my current program, it is customary for a new employee to fill out new hire forms and tax forms while providing identification and a social security card.
He lifts each stack of paper frustratingly, trying to find what he wants. I hand him the form I found after he left the room with his brother.
He lets out a sigh of relief and takes it.
“I already filled it out,” I tell him, sliding my identification and social security card so he can make a copy. “Your brother doesn’t approve of me being here, does he?”
He looks up after he scans the form. “Rey is…moody.”
I lower my gaze. “Oh.”
“Rey isn’t used to needing help around the gym, and he has a lot of pressure. Running the gym and training me for my upcoming fight. It’s usually the other way around, me helping him out in the gym and him being the fighter. ”
I test his name in my head. Rey. I also don’t see what Rey could be upset about. They agreed to hire someone, and I haven’t done or said anything wrong. I get that some people are control freaks, but looking at this office, I hardly find that to be the case.
“When is your fight?”
“In twelve weeks. It is my pro debut.”
My eyes widen, impressed. His first fight as a pro fighter. I thought he was just an amateur hoping to make it big. I don’t follow boxing. When I was with Jimmy, hockey was the only sport I followed, and there wasn’t room to watch or talk about any other sport.
“I’m sorry, but I’m not familiar with boxing. I mean, I get it. It is not that hard to figure out. You hit the other guy and avoid getting hit until you either knock him out or hit him enough times to win from how many punches you land.”
He laughs. “I think it’s a little more complicated than that, but that’s basically the point. What sport do you follow?”
I sigh, not wanting to think about backstabbing Jimmy. It’s what I changed his contact’s name on my phone to yesterday after he wouldn’t stop texting me to come home.
“Well, up until a couple of days ago, hockey.”
I don’t even like hockey that much. I watched the games and cheered for Jimmy because that is what a girl who loves her boyfriend does.
“Hockey?” He makes a face that tells me he isn’t a fan. “You don’t look like a girl into hockey.”
I shrug. “My boy–ex-boyfriend is a hockey player.”
A loud knock sounds on the door, and it is thrown open, banging into the wall. Rey appears with that same pissed-off look on his face. Javier looks over his shoulder. Rey says nothing and gestures toward the door with his thumb so Javier can go with him.
To Rey, I don’t exist. I’m not sure whether that is a good or bad thing.