CHAPTER TWO
Monday morning at work I was approached by my rotund boss, Clarice. She had gray hair, with streaks of brown, and she coiled it into a bun so tight that it pulled some of the wrinkles out of her face. She wore “professional” clothes straight from the 50's, which is when I think she started working here. A shapeless gray skirt that hit her mid calf, with a basic white blouse tucked inside it and as the topper - June Cleaver pearls. She tended to look at my slacks, lacy camisoles and fitted jackets with her lips twisted in a small scowl, like she thought I looked inappropriate. I rebelled in my own small way by almost always wearing my hair loose and bouncy and leaving my jackets unbuttoned, so just a hint of my sublime cleavage showed.
"Emma.”
I smiled warmly at her vapid face.
“Good Morning, Clarice.”
As I smiled, I wondered if my boyfriend wouldn’t mind draining her. If only just enough to keep her home for a few days, so I could try my hand at being Mr. Peterson’s assistant. Being his assistant brought along the more prestigious assignments and of course, the yearly trip to Belize. Being his assistant’s assistant…did not.
She harrumphed at me and handed me a half-foot stack of papers. “I need these copied and collated in triplicate by lunchtime.”
On second thought, I didn’t want her vile blood swimming around his system.
I kept up my fake smile. “Sure thing, Clarice.” Anything for the sea hag. Eventually she had to retire, I kept repeating to myself.
She turned to leave then, almost as an afterthought, turned her thick neck and said, “Gate Magazine sent flowers for you. They’re in the break room.”
My smile became real. “Oh, thank you.”
She turned to face me. “If you’re going over there to work for that Adams man, you should put in your notice.”
“I’m not going anywhere. Thank you, Clarice.” I kept up my smile until she left my cubicle.
My friend Tracey popped her head over the short wall separating our “offices”. She was blonde and beautiful and spunky as could be. Clarice couldn’t stand her, but didn’t have to talk to her much, since she was the assistant for Mr. Sampson’s assistant. Tracey had started working here a week after me, and since we shared a thin wall in our cubicle hell, we’d become fast friends.
"Hey, Emma, Teren send you flowers again? He’s such a good man.” She looked over my desk to Clarice’s office, which was right outside of Mr. Peterson’s office. “The witch had them sent to the break room instead of leaving them on your desk. I think she’s hoping someone tosses them.” She shook her head of blonde hair. “I’m surprised she didn’t toss them herself.”
I smiled as I set the papers Clarice had handed me down on my desk. Teren worked at Gate Magazine, a regional monthly magazine specialising in San Francisco life - places to go, places to eat, events in the area, local news, and stuff like that. He wrote articles for the life and style section which, now I actually found a little humourous. I let Clarice think he was trying to woo me away for a job so she wouldn’t complain about my personal life intruding on my work life. She was irritating that way.
I sighed contently as I answered her. “He’s the best, Trace.” I left out that he was slightly more than just a man. “We finally had our night.” I winked to indicate what I meant.
Her blue eyes widened at me. “All right, bout time.” Her pixyish face relaxed into an ‘isn’t he sweet look’. “Oh, and he sent you flowers afterwards. Ugh, if you don’t marry that man, I will.”
I laughed as I wondered what Tracey would think about him, if she knew as much as I now did. I nodded my head towards the break room. “I better go retrieve my flowers.”
She ducked her head back down as I made my way down the hall to the communal room used for coffee and food breaks. A few men that I passed subtly checked out my chest as I walked by, and for a moment, I wondered if I was setting womanhood back by showing off my “rack”. Or maybe I was showing empowerment - I am woman, hear me roar. Sometimes it was a fine line to walk. I pushed the odd thought away as I reached the room and stared at my arrangement of calla lilies. He did have good taste.
I reached inside for the card and pulled out the small envelope from a local shop. Inside, he had written, “Thank you for a surprising weekend”. On the bottom he’d drawn a smiley face with fangs. I chuckled at his sense of humour and shook my head – his weekend couldn’t have been anywhere near as surprising as mine. I tucked the card into my pocket and grabbing the vase, headed back to my desk. I placed them right on the edge, where Clarice would see them every time she walked by.
Monday nights was kick-boxing at the gym, so after work, Tracey and I headed over there and sweated out our cubicle frustrations by envisioning our bosses as we kicked and punched the air. The music laden class was being subbed tonight by an extremely hot guy named Ben. The usual instructor was a peppy girl named Lita, who made the class amusing with her anecdotal comments, as well as difficult.
Hot Ben didn’t do much for me (my guy was hot and supernatural) but Tracey found his highlighted hair, bulging biceps and chiseled, model-like features distracting. Eventually, he had to come over and help her position her feet correctly for a side kick. As he adjusted her hip, Tracey looked over at me and winked really fast. I rolled my eyes at her as he walked away from us.
They were chatting after class as I waved goodbye, Tracey putting a hand on his shoulder and laughing at something he was saying. I was pretty sure that he’d have her number by the time I got to the dressing room. I showered at the gym (and politely averted my eyes from the flock of eighty year old women who no longer cared who saw them buck naked) and changed into date clothes.
After drying and re-styling my hair, I re-did my makeup and grabbed my gym bag. Slipping into my car, a cute little yellow VW Bug, I headed over to Teren’s house for a late dinner. He met me in his half circle driveway and opened my door. Must have heard me coming. I’d have to remember that his hearing was probably not just good but…enhanced, and I’d have to be careful what I muttered around him, or within a block radius of him. Who knows how enhanced he was.
“Hello,” he said, with a sweet smile and an even sweeter kiss.
“Hello to you too,” I replied, slipping my arms around his neck. “I loved my flowers.”
“Good. I was wondering about that.” He grabbed my hand and we started walking to his house. He lived in a modern looking two-story home, with panoramic views of the Pacific. Unlike my home, which was firmly sandwiched in-between my neighbours, his home was respectively spaced from the houses surrounding it. It was a very nice spread.
I squeezed his fingers as we walked up his steps. “Tracey’s going to marry you, if I don’t.”