The phone rang, as it sometimes did, at 8:30 on a Monday morning. "Hi Nicki, this is Liz at he agency. Are you available today? One of our clients has been let down and they really need someone with keyboard skills to start at 9:30 this morning. In about an hour."
"Um..." My mind was racing. An hour. Shower, dress, coffee. "Where are they based?"
"That's the thing." Said Liz. "They're just around the corner from you."
She gave me the address. I knew the place. "Sure--No problem. I can be there in an hour. Who do I ask for?"
"Larry." Liz replied. "Larry Higgs."
I
jumped in the shower. I love a hot shower in the morning. I don't
understand how anyone could want a cold shower. But when the water is
so hot it makes you tingle, when you come out blushing and the mirror
has steamed up, I love it. I wrapped myself in a towel and dried my
hair, then I picked out something to wear. Over the past year, I had
realised that getting asked back to a job happened much more regularly
when I was careful what I wore. "Hmmm. I said to myself, "What would
Larry like?"
I decided on a short, tight
skirt, and a sleeveless silk blouse; stockings and high heels. Lipstick
blood red, and dark eye shadow (just a tickle of gold blush on my
cheeks--but then that's just me).
By ten past
nine I was walking towards the office, but had not managed breakfast. I
popped into the local coffee shop, to grab a cup which I could drink on
the way--it was half way between my flat and the office.
I
was standing in line behind this well dressed man--maybe late forties
or early fifties. Sports jacket and chinos, well kept grey hair. I
couldn't help myself, but did notice that he wasn't wearing a wedding
ring. When he got to the front of the queue the barista asked him who
the drink was for. "Larry." He replied.
"Huh." I thought. "Coincidence."
Well,
the queue kept on growing and the baristas were working as fast as they
could, but, as it happened, Larry and my drinks came up at about the
same time. He was adding sugar to his, and I was just trying to get the
lid on mine. Maybe it was because I was in a hurry, maybe it was
because I was distracted by his distinguished looks, but the disaster
happened. When I tried to push the lid on my cup it slipped over and
spilled--splashing my blouse. Before I even thought, I growled,
"Fuck." Then tried mopping myself up. The barista came to help and
Larry did too. A couple of spots had hit his shirt, but that was as
nothing to the state of my blouse. "Damn, damn, Damn." I said. "I am
so sorry."
"Don't worry about it." Said Larry.
I gave him a big smile for that.
"This kind of thing happens when I am in too much of a hurry."
"I know what you mean." He said, this time with a smile--he was looking me up and down.
I smiled back and bit my lower-lip--men seem to love that. Makes me seem all innocent.
"You
see," I continued, "I am supposed to be starting a new job. I'm hardly
going to impress my boss if I turn up looking like this."
"I am sure she'll be very understanding."
"Err. He, actually."
"Well, he'll certainly be understanding then."
I leaned forward a little and whispered, "I am actually wondering if it's you. You see, his name is Larry Higgs."
His
smile turned into a grin. "This is your lucky day. You just spilled
coffee on your new boss's shirt. You're the girl that Liz sent from the
agency?"
I nodded, and smiled, "Yup. Sorry. Do I still have a job?"
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