Heart of Fire

A Case of the Mondays: Part 4

I had the creeping suspicion that something significant had just happened.  OK, well, not a suspicion. I knew that something significant had just happened.  Did I have time to ruminate over it?

No.  No, I did not.  I was now… I glanced at my watch… 32 minutes late to work.  Late enough that it would be noticed. I sighed, and physically shook off the feeling of impending doom from my shoulders with a little shimmy.  I noticed a construction worker in a bright orange vest giving me the side-eye from the corner.  

“Well where were YOU earlier, when freaky things were happening?!”   I demanded, venting out some frustration.

“Hun, if you’re involved in the freaky things, I’m there,” the construction worker hollered after me.  I smirked a little in response to the cat calling.

Damn. I really needed to get laid.

_____________________________________________________________

I walked into the looming tower of my office building and hastily hit the button for the 15th floor.  I worked for a small consulting firm which rented out the 15th and 16th floor of a 60 story skyscraper.  Glamorous on the outside, normal 1980’s style offices on the inside.  

I wasn’t too bothered; I was only here three days a week.  What I was bothered about, however, was the fact that two freaky electrical events had happened to me today and I was about to get in an elevator.  

I eyed the bronze doors suspiciously, glancing from their slow welcoming elegance to the shoddy beige fire door of the stairwell.

Well, I’m already late, I thought, sighing, and pushed open the heavy door.

Fifteen floors is no small feat.  Sure, you may climb 15 floors on your stair machine at the gym, or maybe you run bleachers like a psychopath early Saturday mornings.  However, fifteen floors in business clothes - and a still sopping wet blouse, I might add, does not result in a glowing, well rested look for one’s arrival into the office.

No, climbing fifteen floors results in more of a “does she have hives or is she just flushed” skin tone. 

I stood panting, supporting myself with my right hand on my right knee at the top of the stairwell.  I glanced around, hoping that nobody would notice my lack of punctuality, not to mention my altogether lack of preparedness for this day.  Unfortunately, Rhea, the HBIC, spotted me.  

Rhea hired me into our firm - Business Hero (what a lame name).  At the time, I had thought that she was merely an executive assistant.  Boy, was I wrong. Sure, Rhea was the assistant to the company president, but frankly, I had been working part time at Business Hero for a year now and I had yet to lay eyes on our elusive president.  Rhea seemed to relay his orders from… wherever he was. She always manages to do so while looking fabulous.  She has long, soft wavy auburn hair, which today was half back. She wore a flowing cream colored faux-wrap top and a hunter green pencil skirt, with nude stilettos.  Rhea always seemed to have gentle but stern words and a soft smile.

Still, for some reason, she scared the s**t out of me.  

“Good morning, Roxanna,”  Rhea greeted me, one eyebrow raised.  She delicately put her pen in her mouth, and looked at me from head to toe.  “Did you run into some trouble this morning?”

“Um, er, yes, sorry Rhea, I just had a mis-” I began, searching for an excuse that wasn’t I think I am being followed by an X-man.  Rhea put her hand out, clearly not interested in hearing what I had to say.  I swallowed and looked down at my soiled blouse. “I was just going to grab my cardigan to cover this up…”

“Please see that you do,”  Rhea stated, giving me a soft smile accompanied by cold, dead eyes.  

I scurried over to my cubicle, grabbed my brown over sized cardigan, and hugged myself like it was a comfort blanket.  I sighed and stared at my dark computer screen for a minute, collecting my thoughts.  

Was something going on?  Was there some weird construction project in the city causing electrical sparks everywhere?  Or was there a storm?  

What about the scalding hot coffee incident?  

I peeked inside of my cardigan and ran a finger over the smooth skin at the top of my cleavage.  There wasn’t a mark there. The skin wasn’t even any more tender to the touch than usual.

“Thinking of me?” quipped a familiar voice.  It was the Handsome Hunk from the street earlier.  What was he doing here? Did he follow me?

“I was thinking how, in my heart of hearts, I regretted not smacking the jerk I ran into in the street earlier,” I said neutrally.  I opened my right palm and traced it gently with my left pointer finger, “My palm is even itching for attention.” 

“Miss, I think that everything about you is itching for attention,” the man teased.  My face soured. Was that a come-on or an insult?

“I’ll admit, sir, that I did bump into you, so you did deserve to be crabby,” I said matter-of-factly, “However, now that it would appear that you’ve stalked me here, I feel that the universe is condoning me smacking you in the face.”

"I didn't stalk you here. I am a client.  However, I'm here early.  Rhea told me to use the spare cubicle next to yours,"  drawled the douche.  The man settled into the spare office chair and whipped out a laptop.  I surreptitiously eyed him as he looked for an outlet.

I had commandeered all of his outlets already.  The only way he was getting a charge was through me - and I wasn't inclined to help him plug anything in.  

"Um, Roxanna, can you please help me out with this," the man asked, holding out a power cord.  He granted me a small half smile.  

"You'll have to plug it in yourself - hey.  How did you know my name?"  I pointed my finger at him, crossing my arms.  He tried to hand me his charger again, "I'm not touching that thing until I get some answers."  

"Oh, so you'll touch this thing if I tell you that Rhea gave me your name?" he teased, waiting to see if I would take the bait of the double entendre.

"Well, SIR, I don't know your name.  And believe it or not, it is not my job to plug in a client's laptop for them when they are perfectly capable of doing it themselves.  Shocking, I know."  I spun around in a huff.

Truth be told, I was scared to go near any plugs today.  I stared at my black computer screen again.  I was scared to even turn my computer on.  Did we have any good old fashioned papers which needed to be filed?   I wondered, rapping my fingers against my desk, putting my chin in my other hand.  I heard a few footsteps.  Good, I thought, he's leaving.  

The guy stood in front of my desk, thick thighs leaning against the edge.  My face was even-keel with his crotch.  Realizing the awkward position, the man (surprisingly) took a step back and leaned forward.

"My name is Aiden.  You have used all of the outlets, so I need you to plug my computer in.  Shocking, I know.  And I think that isn't the only thing shocking today, is it?"  he plopped his power cord onto the table.  "Plug it in."

"Excuse me?" I demanded, pushing the charger towards the edge of the desk like it was a dead rodent, "Aiden, I realize that you are a client, but I find your behavior completely inappropriate.  My function is to organize files, file invoices, and assist with writing up project summaries.  It is not my job to plug in your laptop.  You are, clearly, an adult male.  I am sure that you can manage a little bit of electricity yourself."

"Oh, Roxanna, I can manage electricity just fine," Aiden said. There was something ominous and promising in his tone of voice, "But can you?"

Suddenly, Aiden snatched my hand.  I felt a jolt.  I tried to pull my hand out of his.  As soon as there was air between us, a thin band of white spread between us.  Startled, I pulled my hand back further, and quickly.  Sparks flew, and the band of light hit my power strip.  It sparked, and then the whole office went dark.

"Well, I guess not," Aiden said smugly, grabbing my hand again, "But at least you can say you felt a spark between us!"