Cinderella Man

They rode in silence. Where? She didn’t know. Marshall refused to answer her question, or to speak to her at all for that matter.

Aubrey sat in the passenger seat of the jeep, humming along to a song that was playing on the radio. Marshall was driving, occasionally stealing glances at her.

“How come your songs barely ever play on the radio?” It was a thought that crossed her mind and before she could think, her lips betrayed her.

He shrugged, “Too explicit, I guess.”

It speaks!’ she thought to herself. “That… or maybe you’re just not good enough.” She loved pushing his buttons. She knew it wouldn’t get to him – it’s Eminem for god sake – nothing gets to him. It was just fun to pick on him for her entertainment.

He chuckled, “I could say the same ‘bout you.”

She raised an eyebrow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothin’,” he replied, shifting his eyes.

She turned to face him, her eyes questioning him. “No, tell me.” There was something he was keeping from her.

He sighed, hesitantly beginning his confession. “My brother, Nathan, knows your homeboy…” he tried to come up with a good way to say what he was about to say.

“My homeboy?”

“The guy you were with the other night,” he explained, clearly uncomfortable.

“Michael? What about him?”

He cleared his throat. It wasn’t his place to say this. He didn’t mean to bring it up. “He told Nate you were… bad in bed.”

“Bad in bed?” she repeated more to herself. “That motherfucker! I cannot believe he said that!”

“I ain’t mean to bring it –“

“I am going to cuss the shit out of him next time he comes begging me for some,” she continued her rant, ignoring Marshall. “The nerve! I? Bad in bed? Says the man who cannot last more than two minutes! Ugh, when I get my hands on him…”

“Yo, chill-“

“And what the fuck is he doing talking to your brother about me? What the fuck do you men do? Compare the women you fucked? What if we did that to you? Hmm? None of you would ever get any because we would be warned about the two minute time limit, or the small dicks, or the ones that can’t get it up –“

“Okay! I get your point. I don’t need to know all that shit.”

There was silence for a good minute. “Sorry,” she expressed, a light blush on her cheeks. It made her blood boil that he had the nerve to say that.

“It’s aight,” he parked the car, turning to face her. “When you get tired of the two minute men, give me a call,” he winked before exiting the jeep.

She wanted to snap a smartass comment back, but she couldn’t. She just smiled, knowing old Marshall was coming back. “Where are we?” she asked as she followed his actions.

She took in her surroundings. Every building, what few there were, was run down and dirty. Homes with broken windows and doors kicked down. What were they doing here?

“The ghetto,” he stated bluntly, “as the middle and upper class likes to call them.”

She gave him a quizzical look, “Why? Are you doing a drug deal?” If so, why the hell did he bring her along? To get shot?

Marshall chuckled, “Nah… you ever been to the ghetto?”

Aubrey followed him, making sure to stay very close. “No… why are we here?”

“We, you and I, are going to help in fixing some of these houses up.”

She stopped walking. Had that just left the mouth of Eminem? “You rap about killing people..” Here he was wanting to help them. “Is this community service?” There was no way this was of his own free will.

“No, it’s not community service. Now can you shut that pretty, little mouth of yours and get to work?” He joined a group of other “community service” workers. She stood there, still processing what was going on. She was supposed to be on a beach, soaking up the sun.

“Move it, Aubrey,” Marshall boomed. With a sigh, she treaded in his direction. It was going to be a long day.

…

“I cannot believe you made me do that!”

Marshall laughed, remembering what happened. “It was just dog shit,” he reasoned.

“I had to pick it up! If it was ‘just dog shit’ why didn’t you get it?” she retorted.

“If I did it then what the hell would I be paying you for? To stand there and look pretty?”

“Contrary to popular belief, it’s a lot of work.”

He sighed, shaking his head. There was no winning with her. “You know, maybe you shoulder consider a degree in law.” Pharmacy just didn’t seem like her thing. If anyone pissed her off, he was sure she would give them some laxative instead of their medication as payback.

They stopped at her hotel door. “Whatever.”

He chuckled, his eyes roaming the woman before him. Her hair was messy, her clothes were dirty, and she couldn’t have looked cuter. “You know, since this is a recession,” he began, putting emphasis on the word she used during their interview. “I have a budget. I think we should conserve the water and take a shower together. You know, to save money and all.”

She giggled. Yep, he was back. “You’re so cheap, Marshall.”

“Is that a no?”

She didn’t answer. The door closing in his face was enough of a hint.