I’m sipping hot tea from my travel mug as I wait for the elevator to reach my floor level, and when the doors open I almost burn my tongue.

“What the fuck are you doing in my building?”  Zac rumbles, with a sarcastic expression. He stands there. I clearly perceive his fresh but manly scent. His thick dark hair looks damp, as though he’d just taken a shower without using the hairdryer afterward.

‘What? Oh my God, shit!’ In a fraction of a second, my brain comes up with a series of speculations on why I keep running into this guy.  ‘Is he a dangerous psychopathic that enjoys stalking girls to kill them in the end?’  

Oh, my God.  My heart starts going crazy, but I do my best to try hiding my worries. I’m sure he noticed my blatant surprise.

“What?  What are YOU, doing here?” I mumble.

He grins. “I live here.”

‘Jesus, what?? He lives here?’ 

“Oh, my… What are you talking about? I do live here!” 

He seems slightly taken aback for a second. The sliding doors start closing but they immediately open again when he uses his arm – covered with beautiful tattoos – to reactivate the light sensor.

“You live here?” He asks raising an eyebrow.

“That’s what I just said. But jeez! You really live here? Oh, my God, I can’t believe this.” I squeal widening my eyes.

He throws his head back and smirks. Then he clenches his square jaw. “It’s a fucking small world,” he groans.

I’m suddenly relieved, at least knowing he’s not been stalking me. But I’m stunned when I think what a coincidence that is. I shake my head, letting out a soft smile. “So, you must be living on the upper floors since you were going down,” I ask suddenly regretting my silly rhetoric question.

“I’m on the penthouse,” he says.

“Oh, I see.” I casually reply. I don’t want to give this guy any reason to be more conceited than he already seems to be.

He blocks the doors again, and the muscles in his inked forearm ripple underneath his tensed skin. “So, you comin' in?” 

“Oh, I-” I stammer.  “Um, sure.” I awkwardly reply stepping into the elevator. 

The doors close and I stand beside him.

“So, there must be something wrong with ya.” He chuckles.  “You wait tables, but you use cabs to get home and you live in a damn fine building on the west side.  Tell me, who are you, a spy?” He snortles.

I roll my eyes pouting my lips on one side before letting out a sigh. “It’s not my apartment. A good friend of mine is letting me stay until I find something on my own. I’m not even from here.  I came into town a few days ago.”

He brushes his full bottom lip with his thumb as he gazes intensively into my eyes. “Oh well, that’s a whole different story,” he groans.  The doors open, and we step out. 

“So, where are you headin’?”  He asks.

“I got some errands to run before going to work.” I blush, suddenly recalling last night’s dream.

“Hmm…” He pauses.  “You can’t possibly work for fucking 12 hours a day. It’s illegal!” 

“Of course not!” I roll my eyes again. “I start working at three,” I say unable to smirk lightly.

“Good morning,” The day concierge says, as we walk by his little glass room.   Zac barely nods at him, and that reminds me how I much I hate his snarky attitude and behavior.

“Good morning Charles!”  I friendly reply.   

“Cool, so why don’t ya come visit me at my tat studio?”  Zac continues handing me a fancy business card.

“What’s this?”

“You don’t like tattoos?”  He grins.

“Oh, is that what ya do?” 

“Yeah, that’s pretty much it.”  He replies.

“Well, maybe I like tattoos on other people but not on me,” I say.

 “Wow!” He blurts mockingly.

“I am a girl! I can’t cover all my arms with tattoos like yours.”  I mumble.

“Says who?”

I look at him with a quizzical look.

“I’m just kiddin’ don’t start getting upset as usual.” He chuckles.

I shake my head smiling with one side of my mouth.

“You’ve been rude and inappropriate last night.”

He sneers. “That wasn’t my intention, but I’ll make you forgive me. I promise.  Come visit me for lunch.  The address’s over there.” He says, pointing his index finger at the little business card I’m holding. Then he smirks and walks away without turning back.

I stand there for a few seconds, trying to realize what had just happened.  The dick from last night lives here, in the same building I live, and he seems to have changed overnight.  He’s still a damn jerk, but at least he was nice to me this time. He even apologized for being an asshole, I consider as I slide his card into my purse. But Jeez!  Fuck him and his tat studio! Does he think I’m stupid or what? Now he plays the nice guy to change technique? “Go to hell motherfucker!” I blurt to myself.

I lied to him. I’ve nothing important to do before going to that damn restaurant. But I can’t stand being at home like a couch potato all day. I don’t want to get miserable.  I want to work in the field I love. I want my dream job. I know it’s not going to be easy, but I’m not giving up until I try everything I possibly can. 

It’s a pleasant day so I get a cafe mocha at a nearby Starbucks and head to Bryant Park.

There are metal green chairs spread sparsely on the square lawn, and I really love the idea of sitting on the grass and use the free WIFI hotspot on a beautiful day. It’s early so I find no hassle in getting a couple of seats in a decent spot. I take my laptop out of its bag, and take off my shoes, crossing my bare feet up on another chair in front of me. I sip my ‘hot drink’ and I sigh. 

‘Wow, this is beautiful’

 

***

 

It’s half past noon and it’s getting hot. I’ve sent a few resumes online and looked at several universities and private researching companies, so I decide to call it a day, and considering that now it’s late afternoon in Paris, and there’s a free WIFI here, I call my friend Lisa using WhatsApp.  

I dial her Paris number on my smartphone and I bring it close to my ear, gazing around the park as it rings.  

She finally answers. “Hello sweetie! What’s up?”

“Hey, what’s up?  Can ya talk?” I ask.

“Um, sure, I was going to have some dinner with a few colleagues,” she says.

“Alright. Ok so, I’ll be quick but I needed to tell ya.” I giggle.

“Oh my God what?” She chuckles.

“That guy? You know that dick I told ya about last night?”

“Oh God, what happened? You fucked him already?” She laughs loudly.

“Shut up silly!” I snortle. “Listen,” I say. “He lives in my building! Well, it’s your building actually.”  I chuckle.

“What the what? Are you serious?” She says.

“Damn serious Lis!”

“Oh, my…But, wait a sec! You said his name was?”

“Oh, it’s Zac.”

“Hmm… Doesn’t say anything to me? And I’ve never seen any hot guy there.  Trust me, I’d have remembered him.”  She chortles.

“Um, I don’t know, maybe he moved recently. How long have you been in Paris, like five months or something?”

“Yeah, pretty much that.”

“So, he might have moved either a little time before you left, or after that.”

“Yeah, definitely. Sure. But Jesus! What happened? Did ya talk to him? How do ya know he lives there?”

I chuckle. “I was waiting for the elevator and when the doors opened I find him standing right there inside the fucking thing. I’m like: ‘no way!’ ‘What the fuck is he doing here? Is he a murderer or something?’ Serious! I freaked out Lis!” 

I hear her laughing on the other end. 

“I’m sure you did sweetie!”

“Oh my God. And then I’m like: ‘What are you doing here?’ and he goes: ‘I live here!’ So, I’m like, shit! No way!” 

“See baby? That must mean something though!” Lisa says.

“Yea sure. It means I have to be careful and stay away from guys like that!”

“Oh Jeez, Grace, Grace,” She sings. “Don’t you believe in faith?”

“Not after what happened six months ago. Was that faith?” I asked suddenly getting serious.

“Well, sweetie it depends on the way you look at it. Maybe yes, it had to happen for better things to happen. See what I mean?”

I pause absentmindedly biting the tip of my thumb.

“Nah, I mean, even if I wanted to believe in men and love again, this guy wouldn't be the right one anyway,” I say. “He’s the fucking bad boy stereotype! And if a dork like my ex-boyfriend fucked one of my female friends, can you imagine what a guy like him could do to me?”

She chuckles. “Yeah you have a point here, but the ways destiny works may seem absurd in the beginning but make total sense in the end.”

“Ok Lis, whatever.”  I shake my head slowly. “I just wanted to tell ya what happened. I thought it was kinda funny, that’s it.”

“Yeah, yeah, ok baby. But did you talk to him? What does he do for a living?”

“Just a couple of minutes I guess. Well, he is a tattoo artist.”

She laughs.  “Wow, that’s pretty cool!  My God grace I’m so curious, I wanna see him!”

“It may be your type, who knows?” I laugh.

“He definitely is my type, but I’m stuck here for the moment sweetheart,” she cries jokingly.

I chortle. “Alright, there’s one more thing. He apologized for last night and said to come visit him at his shop.”

“Really?  And you obviously are not going, are ya, sweetheart?”

I giggle keeping my thumb between my teeth. “Obviously not. Why should I?”

“C’mon Grace, he even apologized for being a jerk!” She mumbles on the other end of the phone.

“Lisa, I told you a thousand times, I’m done with men! Plus, this guy is definitely not trustable, so…”

“You need to open up honey! Trust me, the karma does exist! If something is meant to be, it’ll happen, no matter what. Now, sorry sweetie, they are calling me! I need to go!”

“Alright, enjoy your dinner babe!” 

“Thanks, Grace I will! Oh, and, keep me up to date!” She wails.

I smile. “Ok honey, I’ll tell ya if I find the job I’m looking for. That’s the only thing I care about now.” I chuckle. “I’ll talk to ya soon Lis!  Bye.”

“Jeez, ok!” She giggles. “Bye baby!”

I hang up and I chuckle when I see a beautiful small butterfly landing and perching on the tip of my big toe. I keep my foot still and she stays for a few seconds before flying away. I grin, shaking my head. Lisa would say this is a sign.