Time of Your Life, Ch 1, NC-17, RPS, AU, Jensen/Jared
Jensen was having a Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day. What? Even grumpy adults are allowed a favorite children’s book. Not that Jensen was grumpy. Absolutely not. He dared anybody under these same circumstances to not be peeved. All he’d wanted was a double double, half caf, no whip, skinny vanilla caramel latte. Extra hot, Venti. Really? How hard was that?
“Excuse me?! This is a Grande. I paid for a Venti.”
The senior barista came over, eyes fighting a roll and fake smile pasted solid. “Mr. Ackles. I’m pretty sure you said Grande this morning. You ask for Grande every morning. Sir.”
Jensen bristled. “Yes. Most mornings. But, this morning I distinctly asked for a Venti. And if your incompetent employees paid half as much attention to the customers as they do gossiping, then they’d have heard me correctly.”
The young man who’d served him turned to shoot a heated look. No matter. The little twerp could stick it where the sun didn’t shine. Jensen wanted his Venti, dammit.
With an obvious sigh the barista took away his paper cup and told him to please wait a moment.
“I’m in a hurry. Trying to make a meeting and you idiots are going to make me late.”
“I’ll make you a new one right away, sir.”
He glanced at his watch. Fuck. He had barely a half hour to get in the office and meet with Johnston. And if he didn’t get there in time then surely Rosenbaum would slither into the conference room like the snake he was and try to steal the Johnston account right from under him. No time. He reached out to take back his too-small coffee.
“Never mind I-“ The barista was startled and her hand jerked. The lid must have been loose because suddenly sweet vanilla filled the air and Jensen looked down in horror as his previously white shirt blossomed poo-poo brown. He grimaced at his own thought. Stupid baby nephew and ridiculous parents that insisted on baby talk all the time. His reaction was slightly delayed as the heat penetrated. “OW! Motherf … You freakin’ scalded me!”
The harried barista was beet red and breathing so fast Jensen thought she’d faint. “Omigod. I’m so sorry. Ginny … quick, bring me a cold towel. Oh god. Do you need us to call an ambulance?”
Jensen looked at her with disgust, pulling the soaked material away from his chest. He looked up in alarm as the girl pulled out a cell phone. “No! I’m fine … well, not fine. Just. Don’t do anything. You’ve done more than enough already.
“Mr. Ackles, I’m really so sorry. I don’t … “ Ginny appeared with the cloth and started to reach out to wipe at Jensen’s shirt.
“Give me that,” he huffed, tugging the fabric from the girl’s hands. Without giving the workers a second glance he dashed into the men’s room.
The stain was a combination of brown and sand and looked like someone had either shit or vomited all over him. Possibly both. Fantastic. This day just kept getting better and better. This morning he’d realized he’d forgotten to pick up his laundry and had only one clean shirt left. An older one at that. Rosenbaum would be spit sharp and sparkling, shaved head gleaming like freakin’ Mr. Clean. God, he hated the bald bastard.
He took off his suit jacket to survey the damage. It, too, had tiny dirt-colored speckles. Ruined. Fourteen hundred dollars down the freakin’ drain. He should take it out of that stupid barista’s paycheck is what he should do. Should make her pay him back every red cent. Dumbass incompetent ninny.
Another sad glance at his Rolex showed him time was up. He pulled out his cell and pressed the send button reluctantly. “Jeff?”
“Where the hell are you? Johnston and his entourage are already here.”
“I’m having a fucked up bad day.”
“What the hell are you talking about? We’ve been working a year for this.”
Jensen sucked in a long breath. “I won’t make it. Not in time at any rate.” He paused, resentment burning in his veins hotter than the coffee that had splashed his chest. “Send in Rosenbaum.”
“Mike doesn’t know his shit like you do.” Yeah. Tell him something he didn’t know. Odds were the bastard would push too hard and blow it for them. Jensen stared at himself in the mirror. He heard Jeff’s breathing through his Bluetooth but said nothing. Lifting his undershirt gingerly he touched the reddened skin beneath. Fuck. It hurt.
Jeff sounded resigned but pissed. “Okay. We have no choice. I’ll try to keep him reined in. But, he’s not you. Whoever he was had better been worth it.”
“Why are you automatically assuming this was about a hookup?”
Jeff’s laugh held minimal mirth. “How long we known each other?” The chuckling stopped. “Get your ass in here. Maybe you can at least do some damage control after the fact.”
Jensen clicked his Bluetooth off and rewet the cloth to hold against his scorched flesh. Truth was he’d been alone last night. In fact, it had been a couple of weeks since he’d gone looking for companionship. Jeff would likely be amazed at that. But Jensen just hadn’t been in the mood. No point. Work kept him super busy. At thirty he was the youngest partner at J&J Marketing Consulting. The senior partners, Jim and Jeff, counted on him to keep new business coming in. And the Johnston account would have been the icing on a cake that he’d been baking all year.
Dammit, he was disappointed. This was just the crappiest day. He left the restroom, tossing the wet towel back at the workers and ignoring their ongoing apologies. He needed to pick up his laundry, head home to change, and try to get to the office before Rosenbaum ruined it all with his overaggressiveness. Jensen looked up as he walked swiftly down the sidewalk, half expecting a piano to fall on him or something. Because really … could this day get any worse?
Well, it could if you knew that it would end with Jensen’s car wrapped around a tree.
~~~
Katie popped her gum as he walked in. “They’re gone.”
“Yeah. I heard. Jeff called me.”
Jensen headed into his office and dropped his briefcase on the floor beside his desk. Months of work littered the desk’s surface. He wondered if it really would all be for nothing now. Rosenbaum’s shiny skull peeked in his doorway.
“Nice of you to decide to join us.”
“Fuck you. You do not want to know what happened to me today.” Jensen shut his eyes and drew in a long breath. “Okay. How bad was it?”
Mike was instantly defensive. “They’re assholes, Jense. You know this. Old man Johnston doesn’t know what he wants. Indecisive old coot.”
“Rich indecisive old coot. That account was worth millions. What’d he say about the sketches for the new line?”
Johnston manufactured sports equipment and Jensen had come up with an expansion plan that included a new athletic clothing line. It was a perfect way to leverage the known name and he’d already lined up several athletes to serve as spokespeople and …
“He said he’d preferred to continue endorsing key events.”
Jensen’s voice rose. “They’ve been doing that for the past ten years. It’s old news and won’t add a dime to the bottom line any longer. The last time I met with him he seemed eager to consider something new. What the hell happened?”
“I don’t know. His VP - Bradford - seemed on board. But the old man was scared or something. You know I can’t horse whisper ‘em like you can. Where the hell were you, man? Late night and the guy wouldn’t leave?”
Jensen bristled. Why the hell did everyone assume he’d spent last night getting laid? Was he really such a manwhore? “No! I … had an unfortunate meeting with a cup of coffee.”
Mike looked at him oddly and said nothing. His eyes narrowed as he took in Jensen’s appearance. “You know, you’ve been … off lately. Maybe you need a vacation or something?”
That got Jensen’s attention and his eyes rose swiftly to meet Rosenbaum’s glinty blue stare. Sneaky bastard. He’d like that, wouldn’t he? Then he could undercut all of Jensen’s work and maybe even somehow snag a client or two. Jensen knew how badly Mike wanted to be offered partnership. Jim, he knew, was considering it. Soft bastard. Jeff thought it was a bad idea. As did Jensen. There was something just not trustworthy about Mike. Something slightly crazy, truth be told.
“Thanks for your concern, but I’m fine. Just having a bad day is all. I’ll take care of old man Johnston and get him on board.”
“I don’t know … he seemed pretty dead set against the idea.”
There was something about the little gleam in Mike’s eyes as he spoke that made Jensen look at him hard. Puzzle pieces realigned and fell into place. Rosenbaum wanted Jensen to lose this account. “What did you say to him?”
Mike had the audacity to not even bother looking shocked. “What do you mean?”
“You might have Jim fooled, but I see right through you and it won’t work. I wrote the fucking book on being a manipulative bastard. You can’t win.”
He was met with a blindingly white smile. “I think this unsupportable paranoia is a sign that you’ve been working too hard, Jensen. I’ll talk to Jim for you if you want. See if we can get you some time off.”
Jensen gave him the finger and Mike walked out of his office laughing.
Jeff came in a few moments later.
“The little shit sabotaged me.”
“Got no proof of that,” Jeff offered. But he didn’t disagree.
“Why don’t we fire his ass?”
“Because he brings in the second highest revenue after you.”
Jensen’s lips pursed. He really hated that chrome-domed bastard.
~~~This morning had been Terrible. Now he was moving onto Atrocious. Katie giggled and Jensen felt like strangling her.
“This is the second ruined suit in one day!”
“Relax. It’s organic. It’ll come out. Just explain it to the drycleaner.”
“Explain that a pigeon decided to poop on me?”
“The bird had to go potty.”
Green eyes skewered the gum-chewing blonde. “You are the worst assistant ever.”
“True. But I’m also the only assistant that can put up with you. So we’re stuck with each other.” She took pity on him and held out her hand. “Hand it over. I’ll take it in and you can pick it up later.”
He shrugged out of the ruined jacket, face crinkling with disgust at the puce green dropping on the shoulder. “Do I have any in my hair?” He ducked his head for Katie to examine. Long fingernails raked through his short hair, tingling his scalp. A shudder ran through him. It had been a while since anyone had …
“Nope. All clean, boss.” Thank goodness for some small favors. “But you should wash your temple.”
Jensen jumped, hand swiping the side of his head manically. “What?!”
Katie grabbed a tissue off her desk. “Stand still, it’s just a tiny speck.”
“Ugh. Get it off me. Now!” Jensen felt disgusting down to his toes. He wanted to jump in the shower right the hell now.
“Such a baby. Heck, when I was a kid, we’d roll in mud and god knows what else. What were you … wrapped in a bubble or something?”
Jen … my momma’s gonna kill me. There’s mud everywhere.
Nah, we’ll put our clothes through the wash before they get back. She’ll never know.
Whatcha wanna do while we wait? Clothes off an’ all?
“No … we … I got dirty. But that was years ago. I grew up, Katie. I suggest you try it.”
Katie studied him a moment. “Growing up is overrated.” She sighed, turning the soiled jacked over on her arm. “I’ll get this taken care of. You have that thing tonight, right?”
He knew there was a reason this day was working its way to Horrendous. “The Temple Foundation charity event. Shoot me now.”
“Hey, it’ll be fun. You taking anyone?”
Jensen stared at her like she’d grown an extra head.
“Oh. Right, I forgot … you don’t do that. Gotta keep that whole ‘I don’t need anyone’ vibe going.”
This was an old argument. “I’m not getting into this with you again. I don’t need anyone. Nobody does. It’s just Hallmark bullshit that drives morons to the online dating sites and makes everyone desperate to pair up. It’s unnatural to act like we all need to jump aboard Noah’s Ark. I get what I need, when I need it. No mess. Much better that way.”
“Yeah. The happiness is just oozing off of you.”
Sarcasm marred Katie’s pretty face. He turned the table on her. “How’s it going with Marty?”
She snarled. “We broke up. And you knew that.”
“So much for that super high compatibility score. I told you it was just marketing BS.”
She held the jacket closer. “Maybe he wasn’t the one but I have to believe there is a ‘one’. I don’t … how can you not want someone to care about? And to care about you?”
“It’s not a matter of want,” he explained for what felt like the hundredth time. “There simply is no such thing as a satisfactory long-term relationship. It’s like saying you want Santa Claus. Won’t make it real.”
“He’s not real?!” Katie exclaimed with shock.
“Get out of here. And stop at Starbucks on the way back.” He held out a twenty. “Please?”
“How big a coffee do you need?”
He rolled his eyes. “Get yourself something, too.”
“Thanks. So what do you want?”
Jensen thought about it, hand hovering over his chin. “Hmm. Get me a Quad Grande soy white mocha, with caramel, whipped cream and sprinkles on top.” He paused to take a breath as she stared at him incredulously. “Oh. And ask them to put it in a Venti cup, okay? I like the extra room.”
~~~
There were no sprinkles but the sweet warmth still helped soothe his stressed nerves. Jensen’d spent an hour on the phone with old-man Johnston and the idea of the clothing line was back to being a possibility. Of course, now Jensen had a month’s worth of fresh financial projections to work up. But it would be worth it. This was the best direction for Johnston’s firm, a solid, logical way for them to grow. And it was just the beginning. He envisioned an athletic shoe line next. Perhaps co-branded to save costs. He jotted some notes in the spiral notebook he always kept with him.
He clicked open a fresh Excel spreadsheet on his computer and got to work.
Katie interrupted several hours later, handing him the dry cleaner receipt. He thanked her and took a last sip of the now frigid coffee. Her words about getting dirty came back to him, freezing his fingers above his keyboard. Odd that he’d remembered Jay. He hadn’t thought about his former friend in years. Jay’s family had moved onto Jensen’s block when Jensen was six. They started first grade together and were inseparable until Jay moved away right after their sophomore year of high school.
Katie’s shadow loomed over his desk. He looked up. “What?”
“You have to leave now if you’re going to make the benefit.”
“Damn. But I’m not done.”
“With the hoops Johnston has us jumping through we won’t be done until St. Patrick’s Day. Go. It’s a good cause and Temple is a big client, too.”
Jensen nodded in acceptance. “How far did you get with the revised overseas manufacturing projections?”
Katie squirmed. “I’ll have it for you Monday morning but … Jensen … you know how I feel about some of the practices in those countries.”
Jensen understood. He’d tried his best to keep all the pricing based on fair market wages but these varied hugely depending on the location of the factory. Johnston’s biggest concerns were all about manufacturing costs. Greedy bastard was looking for nothing less than maximum profit if he was going to take this leap into expansion. Jensen swallowed down his unease. It wasn’t his job to play political activist. Until the politicians wrote laws prohibiting exporting of manufacturing to third-world factories, Johnston was within his rights to take advantage of it.
Jensen squirmed under Katie’s penetrating scrutiny. “Just give me the numbers. We aren’t the ones running the business. We only present the options and Johnston chooses.”
“But … “ She was going to argue. And Jensen knew he didn’t have a good rebuttal.
“I have to go. Have the projections on my desk on Monday by ten a.m. I want to have the new proposal back to Johnston by next Friday.”
Katie looked shocked. “Friday! Jensen, we’ll have to work 24/7 next week to come close to meeting that deadline. He didn’t ask for it then. Why are you--?”
Jensen’s patience was at an end. The green of his eyes darkened as he turned them on his assistant with a piercing stare. “Monday. By ten. We clear?”
Katie blinked and lowered her head. “Yes, boss.”
He plucked the dry cleaner receipt out from under the massive paper piles littering his desk. His suit jacket had better be ready and perfect because he didn’t have time to go home and change again.
~~~
The Temple Foundation charity event was held in the Four Seasons Hotel just outside of downtown Dallas. The venue was stunning, a sparkling ballroom and astounding pavilion that stretched outside and glittered under thousands of tiny white lights. Jensen was late. Of freakin’ course. He hit a huge backup on I-35 on the way to Las Colinas and sat bumper to bumper for about twenty excruciating minutes. Some sort of accident. Another asshole who didn’t know how to drive.
He straightened out his tie as he looked around the elegant ballroom. After a few moments his eyes landed on Jeff and his girlfriend. Working his way over to their table he placed his hand on Jeff’s shoulder. “Sorry. I missed a course, eh?”
“I ordered you the prime rib. You missed two courses, they just took away our salads.”
Dammit. Jensen liked the salad here. Featured poached pears that were to die for. He dropped into the empty seat next to Jim. The older partner eyed him. “You okay? Jeff said you missed the Johnston meeting.”
Jensen hoped he wasn’t turning red under the chastisement. “Yes. I’m sorry. I was unavoidably detained. But I have it all under control now. We meet again Friday.”
Jeff’s eyes widened. “So soon? You can be ready with new projections by then?”
Across the table he caught Rosenbaum’s startled intake of air. A small smile lifted Jensen’s lips. “Yes. Absolutely. And when Johnston sees how cheaply we can make this happen he’ll be signing us up for the duration.”
Jim smiled beneath his salt and pepper beard. His hand slapped the table. “Well, that’s good to hear. If they sign up for this I reckon we’ll lose you to this account for years, son.”
Jensen met the other man’s excited blue gaze. “I can handle it.”
“I know how hard you work, but you’re just one person. Right, Jeff? I think we’ll need to consider expanding the partnership.” With this Jim smiled toward Mike, who beamed back.
Jensen looked up at Mike with a start. The sneaky, no-good, bastard. He knew that Jensen wasn’t going to lose this account. That he’d work double hard to retain it no matter what Mike did. And with the account came a ton of extra responsibility, leaving J&J truly undermanned. Jensen held up his water glass in a silent toast to Mike. Say what you will, but the guy was good. This was pretty much exactly how Jensen himself made partner after all - by ensuring that Jeff simply got too busy for his own good.
Jeff’s girlfriend Samantha was a stunning blonde with the bluest eyes this side of the Atlantic. She gave off a slightly hippie vibe with her wavy long hair and penchant for flowy dresses. Tonight’s was sleeveless, an almost-black navy blue with a small gray flower print. She was a sweet woman and had once set Jensen up with the son of someone at the bakery she ran. That had been a huge mistake. Dan was nice enough. A little short for Jensen’s tastes but with a nice build. There really was nothing wrong with him. However Jensen hadn’t been able to find anything right with him either.
They dated for about a month. About seven dates all together before Jensen told the guy he wasn’t really interested in a boyfriend situation. Dan hadn’t taken it well. Jensen tried to empathize or whatever but his heart wasn’t in it. The breakup caused tension between Jensen and Samantha for months. Luckily, this had been a while ago and Sam had gotten over it. Or so Jensen had hoped.
“So. Are you seeing anyone, Jensen?” she asked, leaning over Jeff to be heard.
Jeff interrupted, “Sammy … don’t.”
Sam turned on Jeff. “I was just asking.”
Jensen answered her directly, didn’t want Jeff in the middle. “No, Sam, nobody at the moment. It’s for the best. Really busy. Don’t have time for that sort of thing right now.”
He looked at both of them. “Jeff is busy, too,” Sam started. Jensen could see where she was heading -- Jeff made time for Samantha. Of course living together had to help. Why did everyone find it impossible to believe Jensen just didn’t want to be paired off? Folks just found this position intolerable somehow. Like it was a personal affront that he didn’t need someone hanging off him.
“There’s a new customer been coming to the bakery, Jensen and he’s … “
“Samantha. Please. The last thing I want right now is a relationship. I just don’t. Okay?” His tone really left no further room for discussion.
Her glare was mixed with something else. Please not pity, Jensen huffed silently, as Sam sat back into her seat and started a conversation a few moments later with Alona, the other associate at the firm.
The evening continued in a dull and slow manner. Jensen generally enjoyed his colleagues, but it really just had been a long, miserable day. Expensive, too, given the number of ruined outfits. Luckily, dinner didn’t contain any further mishaps. He’d stuck with a single glass of white wine just to avoid tempting fate any more for the evening.
Jensen escaped to his car as soon as he could reasonably excuse himself.
The drive back to his University Park condo was mercifully traffic free. Twenty-two minutes later he was approaching the first of the two turns that would land him in his driveway when something large and dark darted in front of his car. Instinctively he turned hard to the right to avoid the … animal? The vehicle rocked from the ninety-degree swerve and Jensen started to correct back just as out of nowhere a second creature appeared in the glare of his headlight. His brain registered reflective eyes and a small orange furry body. He yanked the wheel further, tires squealing in resistance, and knew he’d lost control over how this was going to end.
The stately oak tree shuddered as five thousand pounds of steel slammed head first into it. And the driver would not remember what his last thought had been.
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