#creedii

Summary: A young intern has a rough start to her day, and running into a certain stranger is just the icing on the cake. 

Warning: Mild language.

Word count: 3,399

Notes: I might turn this into a series, but for now it’s just a quick one-shot that I wrote last night. This is my first ever piece of writing that I’ve shared, so I’m pretty nervous. Feel free to leave your feedback or any requests, as I’m keen on wanting to better myself as a writer. Also, thank you to my friend, Brittani, for being my proofreader/editor! I appreciate you! You guys can check out her material @killmongers-counselor ❤️

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“Thank you so much, Greg!” I cried out to the barista behind the Starbucks counter as I made my way past the crowded sea of people trying to get their morning beverages and breakfast. Holding a piping hot cup of coffee in one and my briefcase in the other, I used my shoulder to quickly push the door of the Starbucks open and made my way on to the ever so lively, busy streets of New York City.

This morning had been a doozy, considering the fact that I overslept, and was now running late for work. As an intern for one of the top public relations firms in the country, I made it my mission to appear as professional as possible in order to achieve the career that I’ve always wanted, which was to be the best damn publicist in the entertainment business that the world had ever seen.

Glancing down at the rose gold Apple watch on my wrist, I cracked one eye open, scared to look at the time displayed on the tiny screen. “Fuck!” I let out a tumultuous groan as I proceeded to power walk down the congested sidewalk amongst other wayfarers trying to get to their individuals destinations. There was never a time where NYC wasn’t busy, especially during the weekdays. The streets were always filled with employees making their way to their nine to fives. I fret that I wasn’t going to make it to my job on time, becoming annoyed and panicked as I damn near sprinted, finally approaching the area in which my workspace was located. The only issue was that I was on the wrong side of the street and making it across the hectic street would prove a challenge. However, at this moment in time, I didn’t care about anything other than making it to my job, so I took my chances. Holding up my hand that was preoccupied by my briefcase, I began to jog across, passing by a few cars. The owners of the cars were obviously irritated, making sure that they honked their horns at me to let me know how dumb I was, but I didn’t care.

I was halfway across the street when suddenly, my heel got caught in a subway grate, causing me to lose my footing, but I quickly recovered by stretching my arms to my sides, which helped me with my balance. Once I got my body to stop swaying back and forth, I crouched down to try and retrieve my heel which was still stuck in the subway grate. “Oh, my fucking god, you have to be kidding me right now.” I harshly whispered to myself, thinking my morning couldn’t get any worse than what it already was.

“Aye, watch out!” I heard someone bellow out, but I was way too focused on trying to save my heel to pay them any attention. “Hey!” They yelled again, and that’s when my entire body crashed into the sidewalk. It was as if something, or more so, someone, had collided right into me.

I let out a shriek, bewildered and thinking over what the hell had just happened. A few seconds later, the weight that had slammed into me removed itself while I still laid on the hard, gray concrete. “What the fu- “I turned my body around and sat up, so I was sitting on my butt, and that’s when I looked up to see a well-built African-American man standing over me with his somewhat swollen hand extended to me. Before I grabbed his hand, I analyzed him quickly. His torso was clad in a skin tight, long sleeved black shirt, which was layered with a warm black leather jacket with beige fur lining the outsides. His jeans were a dark wash blue and they slightly sagged a little, but not too much to where they were falling off his ass. He adorned a pair of classic tan Timberlands on his feet. He was good looking, handsome, actually. I’ll give him that. Hesitantly, I took his hand into mine and he pulled me up, helping me stand to my feet. My feet. Underneath my left foot, I could feel the hard, cold, gravely pavement. I glanced down, finding that my shoe was no longer attached to my foot and my eyes immediately darted toward the street to see that it had already been ran over, and was continuing to be ran over by other vehicles making their way through town. “SERIOUSLY?!” I huffed out, sulking and stomping my feet, to which the male currently standing before me found to be amusing. I quickly shot him the hardest glare I could muster which only made him laugh even harder. If I wasn’t so angry, I would have noted how perfect his teeth were, but I was way more focused on giving him a piece of my mind than complementing his features. “I don’t see what it is that you find so funny. Now what am I gonna do? I literally have to be at work in three minutes and I’m missing a fucking shoe!”

With a shake of his head, he beamed down at me. “It was either gonna be you or the shoe. I figured you were worth more than an object that could be easily replaced.”

“Well that’s where you’re wrong, because that shoe was VERY expensive, limited edition actually, therefore it can’t be replaced!” I spoke loudly with an eye roll and with as much venom that I could lace into my voice.

“Listen, if the shoes mean so much to you, I’ll buy you another pair to cover the damages.” He said with an exasperated sigh, sensing my anger through the tone of my voice.

“What part of these are limited editions did you not understand? Did you not listen to a word I just said?” I was pretty much yelling at the guy now.

He cocked an eyebrow at me as he looked at me in shock. “You know usually when someone gets their life saved, they show a bit of gratefulness by saying thank you. You’re crazy to wanna risk your life over a shoe of all things.”

“Yet you’d risk your life for a complete stranger, someone who you don’t know and will probably never see again?” I inquired, raising my eyebrow to imitate his earlier facial expression. I knew I was coming off as extremely rude and bitchy, but I was too far gone in rage to even care.

He gave a slight shrug of his broad shoulders. “Well, I’d rather die as a hero than die as a moron.”

“Excuse me? The hell is that supposed to mean?” I questioned, getting offended by his smart comment.

He rolled his eyes and shook his head while waving me off. “It doesn’t mean anything. Just leave, y’know…. so you won’t be late for work.”

“Oh, I’m going! You don’t have to worry about that!” I clapped back, making sure the tone in my voice was dripping with nothing but sarcasm. I quickly turned around and limped my way to my destination, before growing even more annoyed and taking the remaining heel off. Once inside the building where my job was located, I scurried through the front lobby with my head down, embarrassed to be seen by my fellow coworkers in my current state. I could hear murmurs and whispers as I felt people’s eyes burning a hole through my body. After what felt like forever, I reached the elevator and climbed in with a number of other employees, squeezing my way through so I could press the button that would take me to the tenth floor of the building. Once again, I could feel eyes on me, so I concentrated on getting to my meeting on time, and also tried to come up with an explanation as to why I was walking into a professional setting barefoot. This internship meant everything to me and was the key to achieving my dream job. I couldn’t let this mishap cost me everything that I’ve worked so hard to get.

When the elevator doors opened, I lightly jogged to the conference room, walking in to see my boss, Mr. Addington, and multiple other colleagues sitting at the long, freshly varnished conference table. I nodded my head swiftly as a greeting, and hurriedly made my way to my seat.  “You’re just in time Ms. Bridges. I was starting to think I was going to have to let you go. We are waiting on our new client to arrive and then we’ll proceed with the meeting.” I sighed, giving him a light “okay” as a response, honestly exhausted from how rough my morning had been. I was just grateful he hadn’t noticed my missing shoes.

Once seated, I took a deep breath, trying to relax my thoughts. I looked around the table nervously and spotted that everyone had their required paperwork stacked in front of them, just in case the client decided to pick who he or she wanted to represent them. Then it hit me. When I got knocked over on the sidewalk earlier, my coffee AND briefcase fell out of my hands and onto the jam pact streets of the Concrete Jungle. “Shit!” I said under my breathe so no one around me could hear. I scooted my chair back and stood up, straightening my outfit which had been wrinkled due to my fall a few minutes earlier. “Mr. Addington,” I squeaked out. “I apologize for the inconvenience, but I just realized that I left my paperwork out- um, on my desk! If you don’t mind, could I go and get it really quick?”

“Go ahead.” He finally spoke after a few seconds of sitting in silence, which seemed like an eternity. I nodded, trying to make a beeline for the conference room door, but then Mr. Addington stopped me.

“Ms. Bridges?” He called out from behind me, resulting in me stopping dead in my tracks, shutting my eyes tightly in order to brace myself for what I knew was about to come. “Why on earth are you walking around in a professional setting without shoes on?”

Turning around slowly, I gave him the most apologetic look that I could assemble, opening my mouth to say something, but someone standing behind me decided to speak for me. It was him.

“It’s because I spilled coffee on them. I might have gotten some on her briefcase too.” I turned my head in the direction of where the voice was coming from, only to see the man I had encountered earlier standing before me, holding a pair of the very same shoes that had been damaged along with my briefcase. He sported a dazzling smile, showing off his pearly whites while handing the items over to me. “Here you go, ma’am. Sorry about all the trouble.”

My mouth was wide open as my jaw hung low, in complete shock and disbelief that 1) I would run into him again and 2) he had found the same exact limited-edition shoes I was sporting earlier. I struggled to find the words to say, until I saw him stalking over to the other empty seat at the table, that’s when the realization hit me. “Wait, you’re our new client?!” I whispered to him before he got too far out of ear shot. He turned his head slightly, winking his eye at me with a cheeky grin plastered along his face.

“Well then Ms. Bridges, if you don’t mind, could you please take a seat, so we can get this meeting started?” Mr. Addington suggested. “Y-yes sir.” I stuttered while clearing my throat, ecstatic that I wasn’t going to lose my internship and headed towards the table to take my seat.

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When the meeting was over, everyone in the room stood up from their seats and began to fill out of the room, including the man whose name I had already forgot despite him being the topic of discussion at today’s meeting. I was still wanting to hold on to a little bit of anger, but it was hard to do so after his grand gesture of retrieving my briefcase and finding me my prized heels. Apparently, he was really popular in the boxing world, being the gifted seed of another popular boxer who had died before he was born. He recently became the new heavyweight champion of the world and was in need of a publicist to help mold his public image to the world. It seems as if he was known by the majority of the employees in the conference room, except me, considering I’m not into sports like that. The meeting ended with him not deciding who he wanted as a publicist, so Mr. Addington decided that we’d have another meeting soon unless he made up his mind later on today.

I quickly caught up to the man in the hallway, tapping him lightly on his shoulder with a manicured nail to get his attention. “Excuse me.” I croaked out, slightly nervous and embarrassed that I had made such a fool out of myself earlier.

He stopped walking and turned his head halfway, looking at me out of the corner of his eye. I could tell he was smirking, his eyes held a glint of amusement in them. “Yes?” He responded.

“Um, h-how did you get these? They’re-“I began to ask before he turned around fully and cut me off.

“Limited edition?” He chuckled, finishing my sentence for me. His shoulders bounced lightly, finding the turn of events humorous. “Girl, you ain’t the only woman in this building with these. You know that, right? They aren’t as limited as you thought.”

I nodded my head, beginning to stumble over my words. “I mean, yeah but- I know b-but- “He cut me off again.

“Look, I bought ‘em off some woman’s feet ‘ight? Don’t even trip. There yours now so you should be happy now, right?” He answered in the most sarcastic tone he could convene, imitating how I was acting earlier. He started to walk away again toward the elevator.

“Thank you!” I blurted out loudly and he stopped dead in his tracks, his back facing me while his finger hovered over the button that would take him to the first floor of the building.

“What are you thankful for? The shoes, saving your life, or saving your job?” He cocked his head to the side. I couldn’t see his face, but I just knew he was sporting an exasperated look on his features.

“Everything.” It came out more like a question and he kissed his teeth in response. “Look, I was dead wrong to not say thank you. I know I came off as a bitch and I truly apologize for being so nasty to you. I was just really stressed out and I know that isn’t an excuse to treat you the way that I did. I’m really sorry.”

He was still turned around the other way, nodding his head as a sign that he accepted my apology. “’Ight, I forgive you, but you owe me for doing me like that.”

“I’ll do anything! Just say the word.” I quickly rushed out, only to ponder that what I just said could be taken the wrong way. “Except sex. That’s out of the question. Anything but that.” He spun around at that statement, letting out a hearty laugh, his eyes squinting and his nose crinkling a bit. I hated to say it, but he looked absolutely adorable. He reminded me of a little kid at that moment. When he finally calmed down, he let out a small chuckle, shoving his hands into the pockets of his coat. “I promise no sex. Just dinner and movie… and for you to be my new publicist.”

“Wait, whoa, whoa, whoa. You mean like a DATE date? I asked, taken aback that he’d even mention that as an option. Not to put myself down or anything, but I considered myself to be pretty average compared to the women I’d assume were his type. He seemed to be out of my league. “And also, you want me to be your publicist? Nigga, did you see how we were butting heads earlier? Plus I’m just an intern. There are other people who were in that room that are way more qualified and have more experience than me. You really think that’s a good idea?” I said with hand on my hip.

He gave me a blank stare, kissing his teeth again. “Nah I mean a conference.” He responded sarcastically to my first question. “And how are you gonna get experience if you don’t go out in the field first hand? If you do a good job, you might get hired for a full-time position. I think it’s a great idea.” I nodded my head slowly, taking in what he just said. He was making a lot of sense.

“Well when you put it that way… okay, what the hell, I’ll do it.” I obliged, glancing down at the shoes that were now on my feet, clasping my hands together behind my back as I rocked back and forth on the heels of my feet to the tips of my toes. “And as for the date, I mean, that’s cool. I would love that…” I trailed off, trying to remember the name Mr. Addington referred to him by during the meeting.

As if he read my mind, he chuckled once again. “You can just call me Donnie.” He smiled, shaking his head lightly in delight.

“Donnie” I repeated under my breathe a few times, making sure his name was ingrained in my brain. I looked up at him, his gaze was slightly intimidating. “Well, I’m- “

“Amondi. How could I forget such a unique name?” He had a habit of finishing my sentences, I could see. It seemed like he always had a way of knowing exactly was I was going to say, and he just met me. “Wait, Mr. Addington never referred to me by my first name. How did you know?” I gave him a side eye, curious as to how he found out that piece of information.

“This morning must really got you frazzled.” He spoke, amusement lacing his voice. “It’s labeled on the front of your briefcase.”

“Oh… well yeah, that’s correct. So, uh, do you wanna take my number or should I take yours? My mom always told me that if a guy gives you his number, then that means he has nothing to hide and is serious about wanting to get to know you, but if he takes yours instead, then that means he probably has a boatload of other women and would rather have your number, so you won’t have such easy access to him. He can call you whenever he wants but you can’t do the same.” I gave him a knowing look, analyzing his face to see if I could gauge his reaction.

“Well then, you got a pen?” He raised a brow at me, a smirk slowly forming across his face. I nodded my head, reaching in to my briefcase to retrieve my favorite red ink pen. I was expecting him to hold his hand out, so I could scribble my number onto his palm, but was shocked we he briskly grabbed the pen from my hand, holding it in his to write his own number on my palm. I smiled at him for what was probably the first time today as he quickly wrote each digit one by one onto my somewhat shaky palm that he held still with his own.

I knew for a fact my mom would cuss me out and would continue to do so until the cows come home if she knew I had agreed to a date with a guy I barely knew, but he just seemed different. He actually seemed like he wanted to get to know me for me, plus he was encouraging me to step out of my comfort zone by being his publicist. Most of the guys I’ve been with could care less about my career.

And after all, he found a way to make the impossible, possible, and not just once, but three times.