Nanowrimo - Day 15

Tomorrow was the competition, the Freestyle Friday. But in many ways, Mike felt more nervous about seeing Jasmine again. The battle was a lock, as far as he was concerned. But how to get this woman's attention, how to get through the professionalism and what looked a lot like disdain, or at least apathy, he couldn't figure that out at all. But he definitely wanted to learn, and tomorrow was his chance. Not only to show the judges how great he was, but to show Jasmine something as well.

The next morning Alex was up before seven, making some notes and arranging some things in his iPad. Mike wished he hadn't agreed to sharing the hotel room with him, but didn't want to tell Alex how much money he had with him. Besides, to Mike, it was like having a personal assistant to keep track of all your appointments. For that reason, he didn't even mind waking early to the sound of Alex moving around and making phone calls.

After breakfast downstairs in the hotel, they headed back into the city to the BET studios. Even with morning traffic and waiting almost thirty minutes for a taxi, they got to the studio just before ten. Mike felt nervous all the way over, but not over the Freestyle Friday competition. He knew that when the time came and the music started, the words would be there for him, just like they had been before. He knew that they would just flow from someplace inside him but also somehow foreign. What made him nervous was seeing and talking to Jasmine. For that event, he wasn't so certain that the words would come very easily, if at all.

As soon as they entered the lobby of the BET studios in the CBS building, Alex told Mike to settle in and relax while he made some contacts and sorted things out. Mike was glad just to have the vantage point where he could watch people go by, especially the assistants.

After a few minutes, Jasmine came hurriedly around the corner from one set of offices to the left and passed in front of the reception area, dropping off a stack of outgoing mail in the tray and nodding to the slim woman seated behind the center of a long curved desk, doing a little catwalk turn as she did, so she wouldn't have to stop walking. Mike leaned forward, hoping she would look his way so he could get her to stop, but she kept moving straight on to the right side of the desk, towards the other set of offices there.

Before she could get out of sight, Mike jumped up out of the chair he was sitting in and pursued her. Just as she was about to cross through the threshold from the lobby into the offices, Mike caught her arm and held her back.

Surprised, Jasmine whirled around and faced him, squaring off in a way that only a couple hundred kickboxing classes at the gym could account for.

"Whoa, sorry, lady," Mike said, laughing, "I just wanted to say hello and get some luck for today's battle."

"I'm working," Jasmine snapped, "and I'm in a hurry." with that, she pulled her arm away gently, turned, and continued on in the direction she was headed before.

Mike followed her a few steps. "So no good luck for me?" he asked.

Jasmine turned around and gave him a look of disbelief. She looked at the offices left and right, as well as over her shoulder behind her. "Mike," she said, "this is not a public area."

"So you remember my name." Mike said, smiling and standing his ground.

This time, Jasmine took Mike's arm firmly and started pulling him back towards the lobby. Once they were both back in the lobby, she let him go and just stood there, looking at him, her brow knit up in curiosity and her deep, light brown eyes searching his face.

"Okay, fine," she said after a moment or two, "Good luck. You're going to need it, by the way."

"Really?" Mike smiled with confidence that filled his face and spilled out through his eyes. "This guy's that good?"

Jasmine shifted her weight from her left to her right foot, and looked over her shoulder again, giving Mike a second to notice how her hips moved when she did. "He's been on for five straight weeks already, and no one has even come close to beating him."

"Maybe you guys have just had a run of weak challengers?" Mike said, "I guarantee that run is over today." He stood up as straight as he could and cocked his head to the left, still grinning.

"You guarantee?" Jasmine smiled, just a little, barely noticeably, but enough for Mike to catch and be encouraged by it. "I think that's up to the judges, isn't it? Unless you know something that I don't. You didn't pay them off, did you?"

"I don't even know who they are yet," Mike said, widening his eyes and looking around the room in an exaggeratedly shifty manner, "but if you could slip a couple of them an envelope for me ...."

This time Jasmine chuckled a little before purposefully straightening up her face and suppressing her laughter. "I couldn't possibly. The Freestyle Friday competition is a time-honored tradition that must be protected from corruption."

Mike nodded his head, wrinkled his brow, and pursed his lips. "Yes, you're absolutely right. I don't know what I was thinking. I totally apologize." Then he raised his eyes to hers, "Besides, I've got this thing under control. I'm not only walking out of here a winner today, I'm going all seven rounds."

"I'll be shocked if you do."

Mike put on his best hurt face. "That's rough," he said, "but it just makes me want to prove it to you even more." He stepped in closer, still an appropriate distance, just noticeably closer than before, but Jasmine stood her ground. "How about this," he continued, "if I win today, and I mean a unanimous vote from all judges, you let me take you to dinner tonight."

Jasmine wrinkled up her nose in a way that Mike found both worrisome and cute. He felt like whole minutes passed before she answered.

"Okay," she said slowly, grudgingly, but with a slight smirk sneaking to her lips, "harmless enough, since you won't win."

Mike extended his hand. "So we have a deal, then."

Reluctantly, but still grinning a bit, Jasmine took his hand and shook it. She had a firm, business-like handshake, Mike noticed, but her hands were soft and smooth, her fingers long and elegantly slender, with clear manicured nails. Jasmine took one more puzzled look at Mike, even keeping her eye on him as she turned to go. Once she had walked back into the office space for a few feet, she turned suddenly.

"Do you even know any places to eat here?" she said, playfully, "I don't eat fast food, you know."

Mike smiled, "Got you interested, right?" he said, "Don't worry. I know the perfect place."

Jasmine turned again slowly and went around the corner out of Mike's view, even though he tried leaning to the side to keep watching her.

"Mike," said Alex anxiously, coming up behind him and placing his hand squarely on Mike's shoulder. "We're set. You can come back to the green room now." He paused and looked at Mike impatiently. "Shouldn't you be practicing, or writing, or thinking, or something to get ready? We have a lot riding on this."

"Yeah, no problem," Mike said, "Listen, you come to New York a lot, right? Where's a good place to take a girl for dinner?"

Alex shook his head and led Mike to the green room, where he deposited him with strict instructions to both relax and think of a great rap for the first round. Mike thought about his rap, all right, but he was thinking about his rap with Jasmine, instead of anything pertaining to his upcoming bout. He replayed the talk over and over in his mind, trying to analyze her words, her looks, her movements and body language. Was she humoring him, or worse, patronizing him? Or was she perhaps interested? If she was into him, then why was she being so cold? Even though he hadn't been with many women, the few times he had, it was never this difficult or confusing. After going over it in his head for a while, he decided to chalk it up to New York, and focus on getting his head ready for the battle.