Charlotte stepped off the streetcar and onto the curb Friday morning. She inhaled deeply as she stood on the sidewalk. It was just the start of the day yet the air was already warm. The streetcar's air-conditioning had been on the blink and the few windows that had been cracked open had made a negligible difference to the stuffiness on the crowded vehicle.
Inside or outside, air-conditioning or no, it made little difference. It was a hot, humid summer wherever you went.
Charlotte pulled at her simple black skirt and the collar of her white, short-sleeved blouse attempting to free herself from the clingy feeling of the clothes on her skin. She could already feel her long, raven hair slowly going limp under the duress of the heat. She sighed. She'd have to brush the life back into it at the office. Turning, she pulled her sunglasses that had been resting on her head over her eyes and started her 15-minute morning walk from the streetcar stop to her office.
There was actually a stop just around the corner of her building, yet for the last 3 months since she started her job she always got off at a stop a few blocks away. On days like his, with the thermometer heading nowhere but up from the get go, it probably would have been wiser to just go from the streetcar into the office quickly rather than test the resolve of her hair and clothes. However, that would have gone against her routine. If nothing else, on these long summer 9-to-5 days, she had her routine.
Her office was located in the old warehouse and manufacturing area of the city. At some point, the turn of 20th century low-rise buildings, with their solid, old-style brick designs, were converted into offices and studios. There were only a few exclusive shops and restaurants around. So the sidewalks were rarely ever over-crowded and bustling like other downtown areas which is what Charlotte preferred. Also, a brisk walk was a good, healthy way to start the day and invigorate the body.
Yeah, right. She was only doing this for her health. Charlotte smirked.
As she rounded a corner, a teasing smile pulled at the edges of her red lips. There was a barely noticeable quickening of her pace as she came upon the towering glass windows of the BMW car dealership. Her steps just as suddenly slowed then halted on the sidewalk as she turned and peered intently through the window and into the showroom like a kid staring into a candy shop. There it was. Her car. Her baby. All of them.
"Good morning, my pretties," she cooed.
Sleek and sexy lines. Strong and confident colours. Their outer pristine beauty was only surpassed by the beguiling power that Charlotte knew had been deftly engineered under the hoods of these fine machines. She leaned forward slightly, her nose almost touching the glass, eyes transfixed and thoughts lost as she envisioned herself behind the wheel of each one of her dream cars.
"Dream" was right, of course. No way she'd be able to afford one of them at the moment. Well, if she gave up buying some clothes and ordered nothing but water whenever she went out for lunch or dinner, maybe then she could afford the bi-weekly payments and insurance. The moment she drove it onto the driveway at home, however, her parents would have come out and, whether it was a BMW or a KIA, immediately upped the "parental support payments" or "rent" she had been giving them since the day she graduated from college and found a job.
The car was simply unattainable from where she stood. She couldn't even bring herself to go in and ask for a test drive. Though to the untrained eye Charlotte may have appeared to be the ideal customer for such high-end cars --young, attractive, professionally attired, Asian-- she figured the sharks in the showroom would smell her receptionist's scent the moment she walked through the door. At least standing outside it was a bit easier to put on airs that she was a successful, viable customer. She didn't need to be condescended to by the middle-aged, snobby, pushy car salesmen.
Moreover, she couldn't bring herself to face the one decidedly attractive sales associate she looked forward to eagerly catching a glimpse of each day...almost as much as the cars. Noticeably younger than his colleagues, he sported dark brown hair, wavy on top but not slicked, matched by thick brows over invitingly, warm eyes -- Charlotte always saw him from afar so she couldn't quite tell the colour. He had a rich, tanned complexion. His fine suits were cut stylishly around a tall handsome frame. His walk, his nods, his looks all came across as appealingly confident. Charlotte would watch him talk as she stood on the other side of the window and wonder what his voice sounded like and what scent he wore.
He was quite...intriguing.
Okay, so she did look forward to seeing him as much as the cars. It made for quite the sexy combination. Given a choice though, she would have left the man choking on exhaust as she peeled out in her "Beamer". He was an attractive bit of eye-coffee before a day's work. However, it was the cars that made her heart thump.
"Where is he anyway?" Charlotte muttered softly as she bobbed her head, looking through the glass. He was often there early, before the dealership opened. The morning light reflected off the window and, without thinking, she cupped her hands around her eyes like side-blinds and leaned in closer.
Tap, tap, tap.
The young woman gasped at the sound by her ear and recoiled from the window. All poise was lost to her as she clutched her bag close to her beating heart and her mouth hung ajar. Her head jerked swiftly as she haphazardly adjusted her focus on the source of the tapping.
Standing casually on the other side of the glass, one hand in his pants pocket, the other still held up close to where he had rapped his knuckles against the window, the man she had been searching for just moments before stood watching her. Now she wished it had been anyone else but him. He leaned in close to the window, his face becoming clear through the reflection, looked down towards her and stretched his lips into a sharp smile. It was undeniably attractive, subtly seductive...and it struck the woman like a brutal punch in the gut.
His dark brows pinched together a little and his smile angled into a more curious grin. Charlotte thought maybe he nodded towards her...or maybe beckoned her with a tilt of his chin...but she didn't wait to be certain. With a snapping-pivot, she strode away from the window, away from the dealership, with a swift step. Along the way, she stared towards the pavement but she only saw his face. She tried to convince herself that her sunglasses had muted her look of surprise. She told herself that the burning feeling she felt in her cheeks and around her neck as they flushed red was from the heat.
"His eyes...they're blue."
Suddenly, Charlotte couldn't even think about the cars anymore.
* * * * * * * * *
"Good-morning, Generation Techs Security Systems, this is Charlotte speaking. How may I direct your call? Certainly. Please hold." The receptionist tapped a few buttons on her "switchboard" then said, "Mr.Kwan? I have Mr.Donnelly at Big Boxes Storage on the line for you. Yes. Just a moment. Hello Mr.Donnelly, I've connected you with Mr.Kwan. You're welcome."
Charlotte pushed another button then leaned back in her chair and sighed a little. It had been three months she had been working at the office yet she still wasn't entirely comfortable. Whenever the phone rang or someone came through the office doors, her spine and neck would stiffen a touch. It probably had something to do with the fact that she never really wanted to be a receptionist. Yet she couldn't really complain about how easily she got it. Her boss, Mr.Kwan, was her uncle. Like her, practically everyone else at the start up I.T. Securities company was either related or friends of family.
Charlotte had studied I.T. and Business in college so she thought maybe this receptionist gig was a temporary job where she could learn the ropes of her field. Her middling grades in school were telling, though. She had never been clear as to where her career path would take her. As the second daughter and youngest of four, the pressure to find a profession was not as weighty as it had been for her brothers and even her older sister.
Even the notion of just finding a rich, successful guy and marrying him was never broached that often at the dinner table. There were a lot of young guys at the office but she didn't really have many options for starting a relationship there nor did she need to fend off advances of co-workers. Many of them were her cousins, maybe 2 or 3 times removed but still cousins, nonetheless. Several of other staff were well-entrenched in relationships with high school or college sweethearts.
As for the remainder: Charlotte was pretty sure she intimidated them. She was attractive, slim, and unusually tall. In heels, she stood over most of the men in the office. Combining her physical presence with her somewhat distant, dark eyes, and cool, detached voice, she knew she came across as unapproachable. She didn't do it deliberately. For some, the attitude of a jaded youth is hard to shake.
She had her share of boyfriends in school. She and they took turns taking one another in and then systematically spitting each other out with increasing ease and nonchalant rapidity. The interest in going to dance clubs and bars waned in her graduating year of college and never returned, replaced by daily workouts at the gym. She hung out with girlfriends shopping or watching movies, but even they were quickly finding partners or worse, actually figuring out what they wanted to do with their lives and focusing all their energy in attaining those goals.
Her goals, at the moment, consisted of attaining a gleaming, 4-tonne, fresh off the line, customized mass of metal, fiberglass, electronics and leather sculpted by Germans into a slick bullet on wheels.
"Hey Charlotte?" A man in chocolate brown short-sleeves and shorts appeared seemingly out of nowhere standing in front of the reception desk.
For the second time that morning, the young woman was caught in a bit of a stupor. It only took her a moment to compose herself though, this time.
