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The sheer panic in her eyes now makes me realize how young she actually is. Before, when she was holding herself with all the confidence she could muster, I didn’t notice. But right at this moment, when she is completely flustered and trying to fix her mistake, I see her vulnerability showing in her flushed cheeks. And something deep inside me likes this look on her… more than I should. Wanting to somehow calm her and take the embarrassment away from her is a strange feeling for me.
Why am I even thinking about this woman like this?
Get over yourself and worry about her bodily fluids that are now all over you.
Dabbing my handkerchief on myself, I try to make sure whatever she was drinking doesn’t stain my Armani suit, and of course, today I chose a white shirt! Scowling down at the splatter pattern on my chest, I think it’s a lost cause right now. Although I don’t think it’s coffee because I can always smell that powerful caffeine smell from a distance. It is my weapon of choice to get through those long days. Not that it is quite the same here, being a tea-loving country, so my guess is that I’m wearing her morning cup of brewed leaves.
The voice from her phone cuts in again to make matters worse for her.
“Don’t leave me hanging here, bitch! Get that sneaky picture so I can rate him too.”
And that’s the last straw that breaks my annoyance. Part of me feels sorry for her now. Nothing is going her way today, but still, it doesn’t fix my dilemma of looking a mess. Her feelings aren’t my problem.
“Would you like me to pose with or without the tea stain I’m now wearing. Will it affect my rating?” I don’t know why, but all of a sudden, I try to soften the way I’m looking at her, but I’m not sure I’m too successful or that I’m even capable of it right now. My asshole demeanor has become my norm these days. I’m looking to extend an olive branch by trying to make some sort of joke, even though I’ve done nothing that should have me being the one offering, but something inside me wants to take the fear and panic from her eyes.
“I’m sorry, I’m… oh Lordy, I don’t… I can’t. Oh, I give up!” Slumping back into her seat, I can see the defeat she is feeling by looking like an idiot. “Today was supposed to be the start of something amazing, and so far, it has become the day from hell and nothing I do seems to be helping.” The sigh of defeat coming from her tells me there is a lot riding on this day for her.
Trying to turn my body to look at her more closely is a mission in itself, trying not to let out a groan as I almost bend myself in half. My knees come up nearly under my chin—well, not quite, but it feels like it. And I’m sure the guy in front of me is not appreciating the knees in his back or the jostling of the seat as I maneuver myself. By the glare over his shoulder, I’m spot on the money.
“That sort of defeatist attitude is not going to do anything to change things, is it.” I can hear my mother’s words come straight out my mouth. She would be proud, well, maybe of that sentence but not of any of the times I have opened my mouth to this woman before these few gentler words. “If you believe in all that rubbish about the universe and how it will put you on the right path, then that means you are right where you are supposed to be.”
What the fuck am I even saying? This is the mumbo jumbo my mum would always tell me, and I never believed a word of it. Yet here I am spouting it to a complete stranger. I sound ridiculous.
And by the look on her face, she’s thinking the exact same thing.
But instead of it calming her, I can see the exact opposite happening before my eyes.
“My attitude? What the hell do you know about my attitude? You don’t even know me.” Sitting up straighter in her seat, I can see the fire igniting inside her. She has fight in her and is not afraid to use it. A bit of a passionate spark, and I like it.
“Well, let’s fix that then, shall we? I’m Nic, pleased to meet you.” As I hold out my hand to her, she’s reluctant, but her manners won’t ignore the gesture.
“Tori,” is all I get from her as she places her little hand in mine. Yet it’s not a dainty handshake at all. She is determined to show me how strong she is, even if she isn’t feeling it herself.
“Well, Tori, what is so monumental about today? New job, promotion, interview? Or perhaps not work-related, a new man, perhaps?”
“Why do I think you are trying to be nice, yet you sound so condescending? Maybe I’m off to quit a job because my boss is a guy in his forties, dresses in fancy suits just like yours, and is an utter twat. Hmm, sound familiar? Anyway, he looks down on people all the time, and it’s time somebody told him that. But then that would just make me a woman with a bad attitude, wouldn’t it. So perhaps that’s what you meant, instead of being someone who has worked so hard to better herself and is trying hard to ignore every boulder that keeps getting in her way.” She huffs, sitting up taller and looking straight in front of her to avoid eye contact with me.
“Right then, so the universe has done you wrong this morning. So, look out world, here you come. That’s certainly going to make an impression wherever you are off to today.” I get the impression she isn’t in the mood to talk to me. I shouldn’t have bitten back, but she is infuriating, and all I can think of is, God help the man, whoever he may be, whose balls she is out to rip off today.
She might be young, but man, she means business.
“Absolutely, I’m out to make an impression today. It’s the start of something big and moving on from something that needs to be left behind.” Her body language tells me there is a story there, and not one she is happy about.
“I sense it has to do with a man?”
“Why does it always have to have something to do with a man? Seriously!” she snaps, rolling her eyes at me like I’m an alien.
What is it about this woman that frustrates me and turns me the fuck on all at once? Is it the fire in her eyes? The fact she is willing to take me on or the fact she has no idea who I am or what I’m worth? Not that I think she would give a flying fuck anyway.
All things that are appealing in my eyes, but not that it makes any difference. I have about another ten minutes in her presence and then she is gone forever. Just as it should be.
“It doesn’t, but tell me I’m wrong here. Maybe not a boyfriend, but there sure as shit is some guy who has pissed you off.” She might be full of snark, but her body language tells me more than the words coming out her mouth.
“Fine.” Even her huffing is sexy. “An ex-boss who took more than he should have from me.” Her voice gets a little softer, and my body reacts with a rage I have no right to be feeling.
I’m almost not game to ask, but I need to know.
“Did he hurt you?” It came out gruffer than it should’ve. I don’t know this girl from a bar of soap and already I want to kill her ex-boss with my bare hands if she answers yes.
