Wake up Call

~Leilani~
All I heard was a faint clicking noise as I turned my key in the ignition. “Oh come on,” I said to myself, trying again to start my car, “not today. Why today, of all the days you could choose not to start? Why does it have to be today?” I sighed softly and let my forehead thunk against the steering wheel. I sat with my head down until my anger made me rise from the car. I slammed the door and placed both palms on the window with my arms straight out. I suppose to a passerby it may look like I was trying to push the car over. I lifted one hand away and fisted it, but just as I went to pound against the car I felt someone grab my wrist.

“Hey, hey, all that is going to do is hurt you, the car isn’t going to feel it. Believe me, I know,” He let out a small chuckle.

He remained there holding my wrist while I tried to compose myself so I didn’t yell like a crazy person at this man who was just trying to help. I sighed and turned my head towards him even though my eyes were closed, “I know, I know, but I could pretend it helped.”

He chuckled again, “Yes, you could pretend that, until your hand starts throbbing, then you’re just doubly screwed.”

I let out a short laugh and finally opened my eyes to see none other than Maroon 5’s front man Adam Levine holding my wrist. He was in a dry-weave sleeveless shirt and basketball shorts. He had an iPod strapped to his arm and sweat running down his forehead so I assumed he was out for a morning run. “Yeah, I guess you’re right,” I shook my head solemnly before throwing it back in defeat. I left my head back when I began talking again, “The one day I actually have somewhere important to be and she can’t find it in herself to start! Stupid machines,” I looked back at Adam, “Thanks for saving me the bruised fist at least.”

“Glad I could help. You know, I could take a look, see if I can get it to start,” He offered with a smile.

“Thanks, but I’ll fix it when I get home. Right now I need to call a cab so I can make my meeting.”

The look that crossed his face at my words was a mix of shocked, impressed, and maybe just a smidge lustful, “You’re gonna fix your own car?”

“That’s the plan. Look, I don’t mean to be rude, but I really have to go, can you let go of my wrist so I can call a cab?”

He looked down at our still joined arms and quickly dropped my wrist, “Oh sorry. I’m parked just a couple blocks back if you’d like a ride. I’d like to get to know a girl who can fix her own car.”

I gave him a weird look, “You drove to do your morning run?”

He looked down and rubbed the back of his neck, “Um, yeah, I like to see different scenery when I run instead of the exact same thing every morning. Otherwise I get bored and then I’m not motivated to get out and actually run.”

I nodded thoughtfully, “I get that, I have to change up my music every week or so for the same reason. I’d actually love that ride if you don’t mind.”

“Right, “ He turned and we began making our way to his car. “What do you like to listen to?” He asked as we reached his car.

“A little bit of everything. I actually just finished working my way through all of Maroon 5’s albums,” I replied as we climbed in.

He closed his door and looked at me with a wry grin on his face, “So you do know who I am. I couldn’t tell, you don’t seem very star-struck,” he laughed.

I laughed, “Maybe I don’t like your music. No, I’m kidding of course, I guess I’m not really the fan-girl type. I mean, being a celebrity is just like being a soldier or a teacher, it’s your job, it doesn’t make you better or worse than anyone else, just different.”

“That is actually really refreshing to hear. So where are we headed?”

“Um, the corner of 6th and Grand.”

“And what is at the corner of 6th and Grand?”

“I own a small publishing company and try to get to the office once a week for the staff meetings and to get the things that I can’t do at home done. You know, interviews, playing pranks on my staff, picking up manuscripts, fixing the copier. The little details that can slip through the cracks.”

“Wow, impressive, you seem young to own your own company. Wait, did you say you play pranks on your staff?”

“Well, my best friend and I opened it as soon as we graduated college almost a year ago. It isn’t really all that crazy when you take into account that we are both trust-fund babies. She handles all the hard stuff anyway, I just get the fun aspects because she majored in business and I majored in English. She has to deal with the money; all I do is read the manuscripts we get sent. The office tends to get stuffy. All the staff take their jobs far too seriously so I like to lighten the place up when I can. It must work because the morale is insane!”

“No, it’s still crazy impressive. Um, what is your name by the way?”

“Oh, duh,” I smacked myself on the forehead, “I’m Leilani Ember Spelman or Lei or Em or even Lani (pronounced ‘Lonnie’) if you like.”

“Leilani,” He mused, “that is very pretty. Why did you give me first, middle, and last?”

“Well, I know all three of yours. I figured its only fair.”

~Adam~
I laughed, “So you are a fan,” I teased her.

For the first time since meeting Leilani she seemed embarrassed. She looked down and her cheeks turned a beautiful shade of pink, “You are on some of your album covers. I thought you were kind cute, so I did a small bit of research. I’m a writer; we tend to dig into everything, especially things we may have the slightest inkling that we may write into our stories one day. It comes as part of the package.”

I chuckled, she is cute when she is flustered, “You write dirty fan-fiction about me don’t you?”

She looked me dead in the eye, “Don’t be too cocky there superstar, mess with me and I’ll make any character that is based on you completely lousy in bed. I have that power.”

“No one would ever believe I’m lousy in bed. I date models, they have high standards in that department,” I joked, even though after my last break-up, which I only found out about from the press, I had sworn off models for good, I swear.

“I’m sure,” She murmured, “I however, have high standards across the board, I’m not just looking for prowess in bed.”

I rolled my eyes, another girl with a checklist of her ‘perfect guy’, a checklist that no guy could ever hope to live up to. “How long and unattainable is your checklist?”

“Don’t roll your eyes before I even start. What I want is quite easily attainable.”

“Fine,” I scoffed, “do go on.”

“Okay, mutual attraction, trust, open communication, respect. We have to have fun together, and the sex has to be good because let’s face it, if the sex sucks one or both parties are going to look for that elsewhere. See, not long or outlandish I don’t think.”

I thought about her list a bit, could there really be a girl out there that didn’t have crazy expectations? Maybe my problem really was all the models I’ve been dating. “Can I ask a few follow-up questions?” I asked because we were caught up in traffic and I was genuinely interested.

She laughed and it brought a smile to my face as its melody reached my ears. “Shoot.”

“Do you expect the guy to always pay for dates?”

“God, no. It is nice for the first one, but after that we can split it or switch off who pays.”

“Need extravagant gifts for no reason?”

“What? No, I don’t need gifts ever, not even on birthdays or anniversaries. A dandelion picked from a random patch of grass is fine by me.”

“Insist we go on public outings and then call attention to yourself in hopes that the paparazzi find us and put us on the front page?”

“Ew, I like my privacy thank you. I much prefer quiet nights in to having to look all presentable anyway.”

“Make me put the dog outside because you don’t like her shedding on you?”

She put her hand lightly on my knee and I saw the sad and comforting look on her face, “What kinds of women have you been dating?”

I shook my head in wonder, “Apparently not the right ones.”