We too often take things for granted. All of us do. A seemingly insignificant event, at first glance, turns out to be life changing. That was exactly what Beth Turner was about to experience. She was in line at the coffee shop. It was seven A.M., and she was on her way to work. The line, longer than normal for a Wednesday, was moving slow. Beth was patiently occupying her time looking at the woman in front of her.
What Beth was deciding was if the girl was as interesting as she appeared? Maybe even one of the, so called, cool people? She certainly seemed fashionable compared to Beth. She was wearing a waist length black leather jacket and black jeans. Tight black jeans. Jeans meant to be worn by just this sort of girl. Arrow straight black hair past her shoulders. She was taller than Beth's five-six. Her legs longer. Her figure. Her figure was captivating, Beth, realizing that she was staring, forced herself to look away.
When she looked again, the line had moved ahead. The girl was reaching into her back pocket. When her fingers reappeared, she held some folded bills in her hand. At the same time, a twenty fell free, and dropped to the floor. Beth knelt and picked it up.
Hesitantly, she tapped the girl on her shoulder. Only then did she realize that the girl was busy placing her drink order. Even so, she turned her head, looking back at Beth. Unfortunately, Beth just stood there. Her mouth was partially open. She was looking into the greenest eyes of a most beautiful face.
"Yes?" the girl asked.
Beth just held the money, her hand slightly extended.
Not noticing that, the girl turned back to the waitress behind the counter. Beth watched her shrug her shoulders. She finished giving her order. When Beth found the nerve to tap her shoulder again, it caused the girl to turn completely around.
"Is there something you want?" She asked. She didn't say it in a rude way.
"You drop." Beth said. She pushed her hand forward showing her the money. "You dropped this."
The girl's expression softened. Her hand went instinctively to her back pocket. "Really?"
"Yes." Beth said. She pushed her hand forward. The girl took the money.
"Thank you." She said. "That's very sweet." Then she smiled at Beth. "What are you having? I would like to get it for you."
Beth was growing nervous as she often did. She was trying to concentrate on what the girl was saying, but all she could do was look at her. "I. Sorry, I forgot. I need to." Beth turned and hurried away through the crowd, and out the door. She was all the way to the corner before she finally calmed down.
She hated that she had such difficulty talking to people. Especially girls. Especially beautiful girls.
Once in the office, at her desk, the events at the coffee shop began to fade. She was working on her boss's schedule for the day. She was the assistant to Margaret Werner, owner of Werner Management. A small but successful firm representing and managing the careers for Actors and models in the Phoenix area. And that lay at the core of Beth's being uncomfortable around beautiful girls as there was no shortage of them passing through the office on a daily basis.
Beth was arranging Margaret's schedule and stacking each current or prospective client folder in order. She opened the next folder. "Oh, crap." She whispered. The headshot photo, always required to be on the inside cover, was of the girl at the coffeeshop. "I'm screwed." She added. "Totally."
One of Beth's responsibilities was to meet each client when they arrived, offer refreshments, and show them to Margaret's office at the appropriate time. Beth looked at the girl's resume. Tess Howard. Twenty-four. Five-ten. One hundred-twenty pounds. She closed the folder. "So screwed." She stood and went to Margaret's office carrying the folders for the day's meetings. Tess's was the third of the day, her appointment was at eleven o'clock.
Beth gradually let the thoughts of the girl dissolve among the many things she needed to do. At ten-fifty, her phone rang, the front desk. "Beth, there is a Tess Howard here to see Ms. Werner."
Beth's paranoia returned. Slowly, she stood, ran her hands over the front of her skirt and headed to the lobby. Tess was easy to spot. Setting there, still in her black outfit in an all-white reception area. She was sitting on a sofa, one knee bent, one leg straight out. Beth now noticed the girl was wearing black western boots as well. She was fanning through a fashion magazine.
"Ms." Beth swallowed. "Ms. Howard."
Tess looked up from the magazine. She smiled. "Hey, I know you." She grinned. "My lucky twenty." She stood up.
Beth grinned. "Well." She shrugged. "If you are ready." Beth said. "Ms. Werner can see you now."
Those green eyes were starting to distract Beth again. "I'll follow you." She actually winked at Beth.
Beth introduced Tess to Margaret and quickly backed out of the office, closing the door.
A half-hour later, the meeting ended and the two came out of Margaret's office. Beth watched as Margaret accompanied Tess to the front reception area where the two said their good-byes. On her return, Margaret stopped at Beth's desk, returning the folder for filing. "I expect Ms. Howard will be our newest client." She nodded. "I think this one is going places." She added.
Margaret turned. "Oh, and she told me that she met you at the coffeeshop this morning." Margaret smiled. "She seemed very impressed with you." Walking away, she added. "Well done."
At eight that evening as Beth was curled on the couch watching something so trivial that she didn't even know the name of the program. Her cell phone started vibrating on the coffee table. She checked the screen. She didn't recognize the number, but it appeared to be a local one. She answered.
"Hello?" She said.
"I still owe you a coffee." The voice said. It was soft, almost sultry.
"Excuse me?" Beth replied.
"Really?" The voice said. "How many people can possibly owe you a cup of coffee?"
"M. Ms. Howard?" Beth hesitated. "How? My number." Beth was growing uncomfortable.
"I asked Margaret." Tess said.
"But. But you. We don't. Ms. Howard." Beth, unable to complete an entire sentence, finally stopped trying. She waited.
"I think maybe you should call me Tess." Tess said. "I think we should meet for that cup of coffee."
"But, Ms. Ha..." Beth started.
"Tess." Tess said again, a little more insistent.
"I don't think we." Beth was trying to offer an explanation. She was not saying how terrified Tess was making her, but anyone listening could tell.
"I think we should." Tess said. She waited, but Beth was silent. "The Breckenridge." She whispered it. "Room 1228."
"I. When?" Beth was confused.
"Beth?" Tess said. "Beth?" She repeated.
"Yes?" Beth said.
"Your coffee is getting cold." The call disconnected.
Beth sat there, her phone in her hand, the screen blank. Her mind, however, was anything but. It was racing. This girl, a model, was calling her. Wanting her to come to her room. Could she do that? Should she do that?
"Oh God." Beth whispered. This girl was a client. Tess Howard was a client and wanted to meet her. What would Margaret think? What might she say? So, as Beth usually did when it came to important decisions about her personal life, she fretted, worried, and debated it in her head. Then she went to bed and had an expectedly sleepless night.
When the Friday morning sun appeared in her bedroom window, it found Beth already awake. She pulled herself from her sleep deprived bed and managed to shower, dress, and get herself downtown.
As she passed the coffee shop, she did not dare stop. What if Tess was there, waiting for her. She might be angry that she hadn't gone to her room last night. When she reached for the front door to her office building, all Beth could imagine was Tess sitting, once again, in the lobby. In her black jacket and black boots and, this time, not smiling.
The lobby was empty. Beth exhaled the breath she had been holding in. As she entered her own small space, there on an otherwise cleared desk, was a coffee cup, with a cap on. She sat down. Looked at it, then she reached for it. Her fingers felt warmth. It had not been there very long. Beth looked around.
On the side of the cup, along the rim, was the clear outline of lips, in red lipstick. Below that was the number 1228. Tess's room number.
That's when Margaret appeared in her doorway. "Are you okay?" She asked.
"Um, yeah. Yes. Of course." Beth offered.
"You sure?" Margaret added. "You look, worried."
"No." Beth said. "I'm fine."
"Alright." Margaret said. "Oh, by the way." She added. "Tess Howard was in earlier. She returned our contract, signed." Margaret smiled. "And, she asked about you."
"Me?" Beth tried to sound surprised.
"Yes. Actually, she said she might call you later. It's her first weekend in Phoenix. She was hoping you might me available to show her around."
"Well." Beth started.
"The things we do for our clients, right?" Margaret disappeared into her own office.
Beth's phone rang at four o'clock. It was the front desk. "Beth, an envelope was delivered for you, when you have time."
Beth went to the front desk to pick it up. The girl was on the phone with another client, but she pointed to an envelope laying on the counter. Beth went back to her office before she opened it. Inside, a card, blank, except for the same number, 1228.
At six that evening, Beth finally built up the nerve to call the hotel where Tess was staying. She listened to the ringing and was almost hoping that no one answered. The voice that finally spoke was not Tess's but that of the desk clerk. "I am sorry, Ms. Howard does not answer." He informed. "Would you care to leave a message?"
"Yes." Beth said. "Please tell her that Beth called." Beth added. "She has my number."
At eight o'clock, Beth's phone rang. "Hello?" Beth said.