will come to call it, and three people sitting around Daniels desk, none of them Daniel
Enter at collected canter, halt at X, immobility, salute. That's better.
I grab all my courage, reapply a mist of Gucci Guilty, and keeping my Prada's on I move, still tasting the delicious wine from the night before, that can't be good. I walk over and before I can introduce myself I am thrust a large steaming cup of the darkest tea, a wonderful sight I can tell you, by a small happy man who blind-sided me, it's usually a dangerous thing to do especially if I have a hoof-pick in my hand, but not this morning. I glance lovingly at the warm cup in my fingers, with wild mustangs galloping painted on the outside, a nice touch I think, I’m hard to impress but this does the trick. "This is your cup Tharie, I hope I got your tea right builders professional brew? I'm Newton, Daniels assistant, and yours now too I suppose." a little Italian looking man, young, very young, late teens I’d judge. Makes a bloody good cuppa though.
"Thank you very much Newton." I give him my friendliest smile, but of course it could look like any of the many versions of my smile, I may have just accidentally given him my defensive warning smile...as I worry Newton sends me a beaming one back, nope, got it right this time.
"Let me know if there’s anything you need, I’ll be getting your IT set up today, so after you've settled I’ll come and ask what you'd like." A very happy competent young chap I think, yes, working here is going to be like a breath of fresh air. I take a large thankful swig of hot brown brew, that isn't in a waxed compostable paper cup, that tastes vaguely of teabag, and that I haven't had to fetch myself, feeling instantly sated.
A young woman moves from Daniels desk toward me, I’m happy to note none of these strangers sit in Daniels chair, I’m not sure why that pleases me, minds are funny. There I go thinking things again, headphones, usually I’d have my headphones on by now and stop all the over thinking, I’d just be immersed in denim and heavy metal, the music silences my voices, allows me to concentrate.
Proceed in collected trot, track right.
She’s a confident stride, clearly intending to make an impression on me, I wonder why? Petite and curvy, I recognise her from the bar talking to Pete. Stephanie was it? She has a small, round face with thick lips and slim nose, stunning. The woman approaches, dyed red dark hair, long dead straight, reaches out to shake my hand and in doing so shakes me out of my thoughts. "Hi, I’m Steffi, I’m Daniels design&development manager for the RANDom menswear range, you won't see me much I’m just here for the launch, and to say hi to you, we only heard you were coming Friday." Her look burns into mine like she's ferreting about in my head to find out what’s in there Daniel could possibly want. Whilst you’re in there, I almost ask, perhaps you can find the missing part on that Blake poem I’ve been desperately trying to remember since getting in Stan’s car this morning?
She doesn’t like me one bit, I can sense it, or possibly she doesn't read Blake? She turns to grab paperwork from the desk, clenching her fists as she does, she's readjusting her mask to conceal her dislike for me the white knuckles a tell, and returns with a smile, even my fake smile is more convincing than that!
Note to self, practice the smile.
She has a vaguely Spanish look to her, hazelnut brown eyes, a curvy but slim figure, wearing very expensive clothes with perfectly shaped recently manicured nails, painted in the new Nude Chanel shade. I have that one, I’m now thinking I’ll give it to Mum, get the Tom Ford on instead, that'll show her. I decide to bring the conversation back to me.
"But I only met Daniel Thursday, how could you...." know?
"He told us you wouldn’t say no,” her false laugh is like a scoff, resentment? “Well, I guess he judged you correctly, here you are!" She isn't being antagonistic, just matter of fact, it is a manifestation of this man always getting what he wants. Had he had her I wondered?
"I guess he knows me better that I thought." I answer wistfully, not totally happy with being someone’s