2. Jason
What a night.
And I don’t mean the absolute insanity that was my neighbor chasing after her cat and generally being the most chaotic person I have ever met.
Nope.
My night consisted of me showing up to three separate parties, looking for my fucking agent, who insisted we talk tonight about possible upcoming projects. I”m nearing the end of filming for my current movie and need to pick out my next few projects. The asshole is one of the top agents in L.A., but that means he can be tough to pin down. Since my recent, VERY public breakup last month, I”ve been avoiding the party scene, so I was not thrilled when I had to party hop after him, just for him to be too drunk to even have a coherent conversation.
Fuck, I hate this part of Hollywood life.
”Hey, Jerry,” I call out to the security guard who witnessed the crazy earlier tonight, but keep my focus on the elevator. I”m not in the mood to rehash anything and just want my bed.
“Wait, Mr. Adams!”
Fuck me. I close my eyes briefly and remind myself that this guy has no idea how horrible my night was and doesn”t deserve my bad attitude.
“Yeah, what’s up?” I ask, turning back to his desk, where he’s waving something at me. It’s a piece of paper, I think?
”Ms. Masters left this for you. She asked me to give it to you since she didn”t know your apartment number, and I”m not at liberty to give it out.” I smile, knowing he”s talking about the woman who was the only bright spot in my day. I can still picture the look of absolute concentration on her freckled face as she took care of the scratch. Fuck, she was adorable.
”Thanks, Jerry; I appreciate it.” I snag the white envelope with my name written in neat penmanship on the front, then head back straight for the elevator.
I don”t open the envelope until I”m safely home, and I can”t help but smile at the note inside the generic card.
Dear Jason,
I wanted to write a quick note and express my deepest apologies… again. Slinky is the devil sometimes, and tonight you were her chosen victim. Thank you for being such a good sport about it earlier, but I want to reiterate that if you end up needing medical attention, please send any related bills to me (I’m in apartment 505). I hope the rest of your night was enjoyable and not filled with a homicidal psycho jungle cat hellbent on destruction.
Yours Sincerely,
Dr. Alexis Masters
P.S. I have absolutely no idea why I just wrote my name like that. I was not trying to flex, I swear. It was automatic, and written in pen, so not erasable… this post-script is awkward, why am I still writing?
P.P.S. I want to also add, since this note is already embarrassing, that while I know who you are, I will not be broadcasting that Jason Adams is living in my building. Everyone deserves privacy… hopefully this didn’t make things even more awkward… I’m going to stop writing now.
I can’t help but laugh. This was exactly what I needed.
Lately, it’s felt like things are falling apart. First, with the breakup between Vanessa and I. And now with my inability to pick my next project. I’m in danger of stalling out, which could kill my career. I shouldn’t be letting my focus drift, but I’m not sure I could stop myself if I tried.
Alexis is the epitome of adorkable, and her cat is the perfect kind of feline crazy. I honestly had no idea what to do when Slinky first entered the elevator with me. When I looked to see where she came from, all I saw was Alexis” horrified look. Then the doors shut, and Slinky was asking to be picked up. It was one of those times when a pet knew something we didn”t because when I say that I have never been so attracted to someone in my life, I am not exaggerating.
Something in Alexis called to my soul, which is why I was basically speechless the entire time.
So now the question is, how do I get to know her without making her feel like I’m taking pity on her after the admittedly embarrassing cat-gate episode?
I’m in my bed staring at my ceiling when a light bulb goes off. I quickly text my sister for her help and fall asleep smiling.
It takes a couple of days to find what I am looking for, but I can barely contain my excitement when I do. The store clerk nicely packages the item up for me while I write a note for Alexis. When I”m back in our building, I set the gift outside her door, knock, and sprint back to my apartment. I just know that if I”m standing there when she finds the present, she”ll get self-conscious.
Now I wait.
God, I hope she uses the phone number I gave her.
I can’t remember the last time I was this nervous about a woman.
The wait is going to kill me.