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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1133749-Taking-Chances
Rated: 18+ · Prose · Friendship · #1133749
I wrote this last night- I need feedback! I am not sure if the voice is right.
I was very much in over my head at this point and I tried very hard to maintain my demeanor so as not to give away too much. It would be easy once I started but the initial seconds it took for him to walk into the room and begin our conversation was terminal. My heart as always began to run a race with my mind as I thought of what to say, not really needing words they always came so easily when the conversation was between he and I. Still I struggled, the anxiety building, the anticipation, I felt it dwell from a place so deep it’s indescribable as to its origin only that it made me feel at one with everything that nature so blessed this earth with; grown living and decaying. I sighed as he neared, “Hi,” I managed easily enough, his eyes looked into mine, and I fought to keep his gaze, fearing mine would deceive me or trick me into seeing what I held for him returning in equality reflected.
“Hi,” he grinned, his teeth not as white as mine, thanks to Crest, but perfectly straight, his color sun kissed from humbleness, I found that attractive. “How’s it going?” he shifted his brown bagged leftovers from the hand nearest mine to the other. “Have you been busy out here?”
I glanced about the crowded office space, only one person there new the secret, everyone else was oblivious, however peaked their interest may have been, none of what I wanted from this made sense to me so I swore it would make no sense to anyone else, “Same as always. People calling in to make appointments, but it’s been pretty light. It seems like the whole world eats at the same time.” I gestured to his bag.
He smiled widely appreciating my observation, “That’s true.” He paused. “When do you get to eat?”
“I usually eat early because this is the time when I get a lot of my paper work done. Since I am on this new diet thing I’m not going out to a restaurant or anything.” I drop casually feeling better about myself with each pound dropped, only ten so far, and tens more to go.
He glances over my body I feel slightly faint praying to stay in the moment, “How’s that going anyway?” he looks me back in the eye.
“Very well,” I smile proudly, glancing across the room to the desk on he far side of the room, the secret keeper is there, eyes on me, smiling widely like a proud parent, I quickly look away at him again. “So what are you doing later?”
“Not much really I think I’m going to head to my brother’s and watch the game,” he replied, he always spend time with his brother they were best friends, another thing about him I found attractive. “What are you doing?”
“Actually my friends are coming over for a card game, it’s my turn to host,” I replied, thinking about how terribly wrong my precious diet would go over laughs and swooning publicly over him like I was 15 instead of 30.
“That sounds cool,” he smirks. “Do you guys gamble?” he frowns, it strikes him as silly.
“No,” I assure him, thinking how for once my friends and I not being reckless was a positive thing. “We play rumi 500.” I pause as my phone started to ring, I glanced at the clock it was nearly one. “Looks like lunch is over.”
“Yeah.” He nodded slightly placing a hand on my shoulder. “I’ll talk to ya later.”
“See ya,” I forced from my mouth as my chest tightened, with pleasure, that place inside of me doing a dance of joy equal to any celebration, I giggled, turning from the room as I picked up the phone. “Goldstein and Rabinowitz, Daniel Brown’s office, this is Erin speaking.” I went on taking the message from a woman who had lost her dog to her ex-husband in the divorce who in turn gave the dog away to a shelter, not alerting her, now the dog is no where to be found. She wished to sue for the cost of the dog plus the mental anguish of losing the dog in the divorce, and the emotional anguish of learning only days later that the dog was no longer with her ex. It was an outrageous yet sad tale yet my mind was on him. “I’ll speak with Mr. Brown and call you back if he wishes to set up an appointment.” I hung up glancing across the room to where my confidant sat, ear also to the phone, pen moving swiftly across the page. I waited until he hung up to phone him.
“Sweetie?” his effeminate voice greeted me warmly into the receiver. “have you recovered or are you still swooning?”
“Swooning still, yet feet have returned safely to this level of gravity,” I began checking Mr. Brown’s schedule for a possible spot to place the doggie divorcee. “I think I am going to have to tell him. The next time we have dinner. I wish I could just say, Jason, I really like you.” I paused. “that just sounds stupid. Even I think its ridiculous how can I expect him to think it’s a great idea?’
“Not sure Sweetie, but you know what he’s coming so look pretty, think pretty, be pretty,” he hung up.
I laughed at his usual pep talk then hung up, still looking over Mr. Brown’s schedule.
“Erin,” he spoke over my shoulder, his voice a warm cotton cloth spread over and about me like silk. “Does Dan have anytime this afternoon maybe at four? I need to consult with him.”
“On?” I glanced up at him as I turned back to the day’s page.
“Lance Roosevelt v. Taro,” he replied.
“The little old man with the medical issue?” I stated. “He said you were about to do your closing?”
“I was, but they have offered a deal,” he replied. “I’m honestly not sure what they think they’ll get out of it, but I need to talk to Dan.”
“Are they saying you can have what you originally asked for?” I asked, jotting his name in the 4 o’clock slot. “They must have proof and are with holding. Or they can tell the jury is not buying the whole malfunctioning machine bit.”
He smiled, “Yeah. I thought about that. I thought they wanted to cave and I thought it would be easy to just accept it but something doesn’t sit well with me.”
I nodded, “I’ll schedule you in. He should be back from court in an hour if he wants to meet earlier is that okay?”
He nodded, again placing his hand on my shoulder, “Thanks Erin.” He walked off.
I sighed heavily as the place he touched faded cool with the absence of his hand, then vowed to get my head back on the task at hand, answering the phone and filing paper work, plus typing, and then more paperwork. I actually didn’t have much to do. Once Jason was out of sight he was out of mind enough to function, or in actuality he was out of sight enough to be a driving force to get things accomplished in case he came around again. Then talking with him would not be that big of a distraction. I sighed, I needed mental help. I was too grown to act this way over as the punkish best friend in Sixteen Candles put it, some guy that isn’t even the thing yet. I sighed again in haling once more I exhaled and turned toward my computer screen. I jiggled the mouse to awaken the silicon beast; it hummed then up popped a photo of Audrey Hepburn staring ahead from behind dark sunglasses into the Tiffany’s window. I clicked the internet window in order to up date what I had written into Mr. Brown’s book onto his account which would alert his Blackberry which he would in turn check then confirm or e mail me a comment about how it would ruin his tee time or his dinner with the flavor of the month. I sat back waiting a moment, he confirmed both Jason and the Doggie Divorcee, then added he was stopping for coffee and announced he was bringing me back a water bottle. He could be a bit of a jerk but he was very kind to me.
My phone was ringing again, “Goldstein and Rabinowitz, Daniel Brown’s office, Erin speaking.”
“You realize he has a secretary. You realize he had no reason not to send her over to talk to you about that thing you checked Dan’s schedule for. He didn’t have to come all the way down the hall in order to tell you either. Just like he doesn’t have to stop and chat everyday after he leaves the break room.”
“He doesn’t stop here everyday. He doesn’t always.”
“He does even when he has a working lunch or lunch with a client, the man stops for even the smallest chat.”
“Miles.”
“Erin?” he responded as his other line began to ring. “He likes you.”
“Answer your phone,” I hung up. I couldn’t get my hopes up, venturing out on proverbial limbs more often then not gave me serious cases of plain, hard, cruel truth. I didn’t particularly appreciate truth when it was dressed so badly. I had four hours until I was done work. Four ours until our little dance would begin again.
© Copyright 2006 Melva Charles (tanikajohns at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1133749-Taking-Chances