There was something beguiling about him. Tall, handsome, well groomed; you know he ticked the usual boxes so that's why I was so attracted to him as soon as he strutted across the third floor on that otherwise grim Monday morning. Well, I say 'strutted' but there was nothing boastful about him. In fact, his self-assurance took me by surprise when I soon found out that he's a mute.
I'm a shy girl. Always have been, probably always will be. I can't help but yearn for a kindred spirit and, when every so often a quiet, mild mannered guy approaches my work station, I find myself blushing like I always have done. There's something about a man of few words, a man who keeps himself to himself and just gets on with his life in a calm and confident way.
Yes okay, I admit that before the day was over I had allowed myself to fall in love with him. I can't say I was surprised when I was given instructions to show Martin around. My boss seemed to think that my soft and gentle personality was just the sort of calming approach that would help somebody settle in around here. Well, maybe. That and I did know how to sign.
"Gemma, this is Martin. (Just how soulful those eyes seemed at first glance.) He'll be helping us out around here, mostly down in the basement with all the old boxes, but he'll surface every now and then to help you girls out."
Winking and nudging me playfully.
"Just let me know if he causes too much distraction."
The wholesome smile that spread across Martin's face was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. Was he looking straight at me? I wasn't sure but for a split second I felt like the only woman in the world.
"N-nice to-to meet you." I barely managed to disguise my stammer as I offered him my hand. His grip was firm and manly. I grinned shyly before forcing myself to relax. "Follow me". He barely glanced at my lips before signing 'okay'.
The basement really did need a good old sorting out. I later found out that Martin was just the man for the job. Unafraid of dirty toil he was very grateful for the job. Fiercely independent, he resented anyone drawing attention to his disability and he was soon proving just how special he really was. It was so dark down there and the half light was hardly illuminating the confined spaces. Without really knowing it I found myself talking in barely more than a whisper as I attempted a light-hearted tone.
"You'll certainly have your work cut out down here. As you can see, it's all very dark and mysterious."
Was I flirting? I hesitated as he beckoned me to come closer, his eyes looking straight at me. This was happening way too quickly. As I began to look visibly nervous, I suddenly realised how poor the visibility was and almost leapt up to him to sign underneath the dusty lantern.
As I looked up into his dark chocolaty eyes I was struck by how intensely he was studying my features. I was wearing my thin brown hair in a pony tail that day as it had been very humid recently. My blouse was clinging to me already, a bead of sweat was working its way down my cleavage and I could feel that familiar discomfort underneath my skirt as my thighs rubbed together. I didn't feel particularly attractive in that instant but he just stared at me and ever so slowly the warmest smile emerged across his kindly face. It was as if he knew just what I was thinking, as if he was reassuring me that there was nothing to be afraid of. Perhaps this was just me. After all, it was his first day. But he was so calm and collected. Without irony I was genuinely lost for words in his presence. I mouthed that I was going back upstairs and if he needed any help, just to let me know. I felt flustered and foolish as I signed goodbye. He remained smiling and signed thank you before turning round to get to work.
Our tea breaks weren't coordinated and I felt a pang of regret as I saw him walk past me and my friends in the canteen while I was having my lunch. He was on his own but he didn't look lonely. Was it intentional that he sat at the far end of the room but within eyeshot of me? My friends started talking about him and asked whether I should introduce them. I saw him reading, looking quite studious and I uttered something like 'let's give it a few days until he gets used to the place'. Now, this may seem rude to you but I could read the apprehension on my friends' faces as they contemplated what could be a rather awkward conversation through an interpreter. I suppose it was my call to decline but they seemed to understand all the same. Just how much I wonder, as I spent that long hour trying to catch his eye in the most subtle way I could. He looked so beautiful yet so engrossed in his book. His dark brown hair was tufty but not quite wild. His black t-shirt was displaying much dusty evidence of a man at work, his arms folded handsomely on his lap, his muscles on show but not intimidating. His legs were partially crossed and acted as a book rest, from which his trademark intense glare barely moved. Beguiling. If only he knew what I was thinking...
As long as that lunch hour was, the rest of the day followed suit. I couldn't help myself from glancing at the stairs leading down to the basement whenever I was sure that no-one was looking. Towards the end of the day I was almost caught when I looked up to find my boss looking straight at me.
