“Ha! Gotcha,” Kevin laughs and smirks at me. “So you’re his secret luva taking the place of his life-size vinyl doll?”
Danielle’s eyes grow wide as we step back into the elevator. “He has one of those vinyl life-size dolls? Yucko!”
“You said it,” Nick agrees. “I wouldn’t put my prize in one of those things.”
“Hey, don’t knock the doll, dude,” Andy responds. “She’s really good to me.”
“We should all pitch in and get Nathan one,” Kevin responds. “You two could double date!”
Thankfully Nick moves off topic and starts talking about the latest botched recording where the voice artist doing Bernie showed up coked out. While they’re distracted, I slip away, grateful for an excuse to escape their torture. I head towards the executive offices, and when I see Brooke’s, I notice that her assistant is away from her desk so I boldly step inside. I’m so nervous I’m trembling, but a flash of courage comes over me, and I go with it.
Her office is large, with a sitting area including a large couch. Maybe one day I’ll sit there next to her, I happily imagine. The couch faces huge windows that look over the Forest Lawn Mortuary and part of the Warner Bros. back lot. As I step closer to the window to check out the view, I notice something different about her office compared to the other executives I’ve seen. Instead of large framed posters on the walls of Sketch Republic’s productions, she has an eclectic gathering of art in styles that look familiar to me. As I step closer, I realize that they are original works from some of our staff artists. How cool. I wish she had one of mine up, too. I also notice a print I’ve never seen before from one of my favorite animated movies from another studio. My girl must have a bit of rebel in her, I suspect, grinning. No idiotic Bernie the Beaver posters in here.
It brings me back to the beginning of my infatuation with Brooke. About two years ago, we were at our monthly company meeting in the building’s auditorium/screening theater, and Brooke got up to talk about projects in development to our group of over four hundred employees. It was immediately apparent how smart and clever she was, but it was the warmth in her voice as she talked about the artists and new characters that impressed me so much. I’d never met an executive who seemed to be an actual fan of the work we do. It’s not unusual to have young executives in animation, but Brooke was like fresh air blowing through the place. From that moment on, I paid attention to everything I heard and observed about her.
My growing impression was that she was the coolest girl ever…not just at Sketch Republic, or in Los Angeles, but the coolest girl in the entire world. As a result, my infatuation went from a wispy shadow on an overcast day to a sharp electrical current surging through me. I did a Google search and Facebooked her. I sat enraptured when she spoke at the monthly meeting. I even searched for satellite pictures of her house, hoping to see her stretched out on the chaise lounge in her back yard as we voyeuristically soared over her hillside condo.
Snapping out of my revelry, it suddenly occurs to me that Brooke could walk back in here any moment and see me stalking. Anxious to complete my task, I take out a black Sharpie from my pocket and write her name on the cup. It looks so ordinary, so I draw a little caricature of her face, which essentially is my B-Girl character. Right as I am about to set it on her desk I hear the rustle of papers.
“Well, hello, Nathan,” she says happily. “What’s up?”
“I brought you your coffee,” I respond, trying not to blush. “I mean, I know you wanted to come with us but you had a meeting, so I thought I’d get it for you.”
“That’s the sweetest thing ever,” she says. “Thank you. So that was you in the back of the elevator. I almost didn’t recognize you without your bow tie and pocket protector.” She grins, and I shyly smile back.
“Yeah, that was me.”
“I just stepped out of the meeting to get my projections.” She reaches over and pulls a folder off her desk. I’m mesmerized by her every movement, and the sound of her silver bracelets clinking together is music to my ears.
She’s a bit taller today. The boots she’s wearing under her slacks must have higher heels as she almost comes up to my chin now. My vision drifts to her delicate neck where a fine chain weaves along her pale skin before falling into the wide neckline of her floaty top. I can’t help but notice that when she bends forward to reach a second folder placed further away on her desk, her shirt falls away from her body. It’s just long enough for me to get a glimpse of her bra and the top part of her beautiful breasts. I blink nervously.
Folders retrieved, she straightens then lifts up the coffee to take a sip. As she squeezes the cup some foam oozes out onto the lid. In slow motion I watch her tongue slide out between her rosebud lips and lick the foam off the lid with a flourish.
“Mmmm,” she sighs.
Oh, her pink, wet, perfect tongue! Between the foam lick and seeing her breasts, I am undone. My blood starts pooling where I don’t want it to, and of course, the beast comes to life.
I casually try to hold my coffee cup low like a paper shield covering what’s happening in my jeans. Thank God my coffee’s a Venti.
She looks up at me, smiling, and raises her drink. “If Arnauld saw you got me this, he would insist that you’re flirting with me, but I think you’re just a really nice guy. Which is it?”
Turning beet red, I sway a bit before I drop my Sharpie and scurry around to try to find it on the floor. By the time I straighten up, she seems to have decided not to press me for an answer.
“Well, whatever the reason, thanks so much.” She reaches over and grasps my arm for a moment. “I think you’re cool. I’ve got to get back to the meeting, but let’s talk again, okay?”
“Sure.” I smile big enough to show my teeth and her eyes twinkle knowingly. I grin all the way back to my cube.
Of course when I get there I discover a surprise taped to the front of my computer. It’s a caricature of me looking particularly geeky with an arrow coming out of my butt cheek. The fast rough sketch has my eyes rolling like I’ve lost my mind. A flying cherub with Andy’s ugly face is holding a bow with one hand and fist pumping victoriously with the other. There are hearts floating around my head. Scrawled at the top are the words, Nathan’s in Love.
I look around to see if I can figure out who’s in on the joke. Did someone see me take the coffee to Brooke? I think it’s Kevin’s work, but I can’t be sure. All that surrounds me is radio silence. Damn crazy animators, I silently curse knowing I can’t say much really since I’m one of the group and have done many such drawings of them.
I carefully peel off the sketch and place it in my lower drawer where all the good stuff goes. This one, as infuriating as it is, is a keeper. After all, satire and caricatures work so well because of the truth behind them.
• • •
The next day’s coffee run is uneventful, and this time no one questions the second cup. When I get to Brooke’s office, her assistant eyes me suspiciously, but I explain that I’m just dropping off her coffee. When I step into the doorway, Brooke looks up and smiles.
“For me again?”
“Sure, it’s no big deal…really,” I assure her, trying to play it cool. Suddenly it occurs to me…what if I’m bothering her?
“You really don’t have to do this.”
“You don’t want it?” I ask, trying not to look crestfallen.
“Oh, it’s not that; I just don’t want to take advantage of your kindness,” she says with a wink and a sexy smile.
Is she flirting with me?
My stomach flip-flops as I try to think how to respond. Then I remember a line I heard once.
“Okay, I’ll make an agreement. I’ll only do it when I want to.”
Hey, that sounded smooth. I smile as I shift nervously from foot to foot, watching for her reaction.