Chapter 1 1

Jack

I think I'm going to die in this elevator, it's so stuffy. I have never understood why elevators are always full, it is rare when I use this thing and it is empty. I hate elevators! There are always people talking shit. I have a friend who always says: "Jack, stop being silly. You're the only one who has a problem with elevators. I have no patience with idiots like her, who love to talk this shit. I am terrified.

And to make it even better, my friend's son of a bitch friend owns a company with several floors here in New York. I keep thinking... if his company couldn't have two floors at most... He couldn't have a company on the first floor, or even with one or two floors, but of course not, he likes to see me suffer, he must.

I look down at my clothes to see how I look. Not bad, in my humble opinion: basic jeans, with a rocker t-shirt, jacket and sneakers. I am fine as I am, I run my hand down my back lightly so that no one notices that I am carrying a gun. It is embarrassing enough to walk through the lobby and the alarms go off because of the metal detector. This is when I feel like killing my friend. I even had to listen to his laughter, making fun of my face. I breathe a sigh of relief as I get out of the damn elevator.

I walk towards his office, but first I stop at his secretary's desk, who just by looking at it I can tell is a slut, I don't know how he could have hired her. In my opinion, he can only have some problem hiring a woman who is written on her face: slutaaaaa. I give a fake smile and ask the oxygenated blonde in front of me:

- I came to see Mr. Monteiro. - The fake dog Barbie looks me up and down, as if I were an unidentified species. And says:

- Mr. Monteiro, at the moment, is busy and will not be able to attend to you.

The cow tells me this in such an ironic tone that I immediately imagine that he must be fucking her, who, in turn, imagines that I am one more who has gone out with him. Who does she think she is? Looking at her, the donkey must be eating her. And this one must think I'm one of his flings.

- Hmmm, seriously. Tell her that Jackeline Baptista is here and, for your information, I don't need to schedule an appointment, my child.

- So, Mrs. Baptista, he is really very busy and will not be able to see you. I will make an appointment with him for next week. November 3rd, at 9am. What's up? Does Barbie really think I'll expect to be seen next week?

Has she gone crazy? Has she? I grab my cell phone, call the number of my asshole friend and hear a voice saying:

- Rafael Monteiro. - Wow, that son of a bitch can be serious when he wants to be.

- Kindly, Mr. Monteiro? - I ask, knowing it was the idiot.

- Yes?- he answered.

- You idiot! Would you please come out here and tell your "FUCKING" secretary that I don't need an appointment to talk to you," I say all this in a very sweet and debauched way. I hear a great laugh and he says:

- Only you, Jack. - And the human beast continues to laugh in my face. Asshole.

- Is it over? - I ask. - Thank you," I answer dryly.

- I'll be right there, my love. - he says in a passionate tone.

- It's no use talking like that, using that tone with me, Ralph. It doesn't work with me!

I turn off the cell phone. Before long, about two minutes, I hear the door open and see Rafael pointing at the door to his living room. As always, a cat. The good thing about being friends is that we never had any interest in being together. We have always been companions, I confess that sometimes he was a pain in the ass, but I love him just the way he is.

- My goodness, how beautiful you look! - he says in an amused tone. And I just glare at him, making him laugh again.

- Ralph, you're such an idiot," I grumble.

- You love me," he teases.

- Oh, you poor thing! You really think you are," I mock.

He comes to me and hugs me. I give in and tell him that I love those moments. I know and he knows it, because I am not one to show it and easily tell the four winds what I feel. When he lets me go, he turns to the dumb and watery blonde secretary and says:

- Cristina, whenever Miss Baptista comes here to 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 just one of the girls who come here to see you. Do you understand me? - she says looking disdainfully at me.

- I don't understand and I don't want to understand. Please, Cristina, put yourself in your place. Please, Cristina! - he says in a serious tone.

- Yes, sir! - replied Cristina in a sad tone.

- Now, please, I'll be busy talking to Miss Baptista and I don't want to be interrupted. Do you understand?

- Yes, you may, Mr. Monteiro," Cristina answers with a look that frowns at me.

- Good," he says and looks at me, "and you, Miss Troublemaker, come into my office now.

- Yes, sir. I salute him and enter his room.