Sappy music played in the background as tea was sipped from her cup. She realized how ironic this was, that it was raining outside, that she was playing sad music about how she didn’t have a man as she sat there wrapped in her favorite sweats and drank the ultimate comfort--tea. It would have been ice cream had it not been completely freezing all day long. Boston had a tendency to do that, the warm ocean winds would hit the cold western moving ones and in mixing the cold and the moisture you got this bitter, bone chilling cold. It was alright by her though, she had grown up in Colorado where either the weather was sunny as all could be or it was so cold you couldn’t breathe. This was a nice change. She took a deep breath in so that she could sigh and she smelled laundry in the air. Wandering over to her window she sat in the sill and looked out at the rain, laughing at how stereotypical she could be. It would have bothered her normally-the fact that there was a boy tugging at her heart strings and she was acting just like she was supposed to, but for some reason it didn’t. She sat there and ran her fingers along the edge of her coffee mug, thinking about how the other night she had done the same thing to her wine glass.
She was wearing this gorgeous black dress at the time, modestly cut, but accentuated well and better than that—it made her feel attractive. Her blonde hair was pinned up with black sparkly pins and her earrings matched well. It was a step for her, to get all dressed up for something as small as this, it wasn’t exactly usual for her to get dressed up at all even. But she felt differently about him. That night she had bit her bottom lip seductively as she glanced down and back up, smiling at him and something he had said. She loved conversation with him, it was witty and entertaining, but on her mind was something else. He could speak on the deep parts of life, the smiles, the failures and everything that went along with them, but there was something about him, something he exuded that made her act that way. Her finger moved to her wine glass, lightly touching the rim as she toyed with her glass and took small sips, smiling as she did, making small comments and letting him talk and her comment. He seemed to be happy to talk, but he wasn’t bad at silence either. She loved that about men. She loved a man who could sit there in silence and just think, and he would. His face would glow though when he came up with an idea and then he would lean over the table and with his expressive eyes tell her everything he had just thought of.
She would smile, and she would toy with him to make it appear as if she was not only listening but participating and loved every second that passed. She did, but she felt she was pushing it to an extreme by acting like this. He was the first guy she had met since she moved to Boston that had any kind of intelligence. He was suave, and he was cute, and he had a great smile, but he seemed to be distracted by things in his life that were going on. When they first met, as usual, she felt her personality had not been broadcast as it could be. She was an intelligent girl, always had a way for analyzing and understanding people, but she didn’t like to give that impression right off the bat. She went back to talking to him, asking him questions, probing him as she listened to him say the things she wanted to hear.
The evening was spent as such, a nice bottle of wine drained after hours of conversation and finally they moved outside of the restaurant and onto the curb. His actions were two fold. Some times it would appear that he wanted nothing more than to talk to her, nothing more than to sit there and discuss. Other times though he’d get distracted, he wouldn’t finish his thoughts, or he’d just leave. It was awkward for her simply because she didn’t know how to deal with him, she wasn’t sure how to handle him or how to react. She took the approach of acting cool, so as he hailed her a cab and didn’t open the door for her and it didn’t seem like he was coming with her she waved and him and told him thank you for a great dinner. This is what hand landed her in a state of confusion. He was sweet, and caring, but it appeared that maybe it wasn’t a date. She didn’t want to sit there like a teenager and wonder if he liked her or not. She went over the usual stuff of “he paid for dinner” or “when we’re working he’ll just randomly come over to me just to show me something.” She felt it was stupid and juvenile. But then again there she was sitting in her window sill looking down 20 flights onto the city below and the water as it fell on them.
She spaced out quite easily. When she wasn’t around people she went into one of a few modes. One of those was a completely introspective person who sat there with a cup of tea and looked outside as she pursed her lips, cocked an eyebrow and thought.
Running out of tea she bounced up off of her perch and set the cup on the counter, leaning on it and looked over at her drafting table with the half finished model on it. She sighed as she looked at it, tilted her head, and looked at it again. She walked over to her table and picked up a dowel rod, twisting it in her hand she tapped it on her desk and looked at her drawings, glancing to the top corner of one of them. There she saw something scrawled. Moving to the corner she leaned over and read it upside down, “Mark (538)-456-5835.” She hadn’t remembered him writing his number on her paper, though it was possible that she had been working when he had come up to talk to her so as she drafted he talked.
He was nice when it came to that, she had just moved there about 3 months previous, to a nice lofted apartment in the middle of Boston about 3 blocks from the building where she worked. Mark worked there as well, only he had been with the company for more than a year and was soon to be guaranteed a full position as an architect with them. Their relationship had been tepid at first, more push and shove than anything. When they first met it was a simple introduction on her first day where someone was showing her around. She started to work as hard as she could and at one point he started to notice her work, though he would simply walk over and comment on it, telling her where her line weights were off and what part of what wasn’t working for the perspective and how to change it. She was frustrated that she was being reprimanded for some of her best work, especially when she looked around at her colleagues and their stuff was far below the quality of hers. She started to simply roll her eyes every time he came around, but things changed as one day he pointed to the corner of a building with arches and made one single comment, “nice.” She looked up at him with shock, and meekly said ‘thank you’ back. She started to doubt his act at that moment, whether or not he really was a hard ass. All she knew was that he received a lot of attention in the office and that people respected him.
Soon after that she was invited out one night after a night of late drafting for quite a few people. She agreed and put on her jacket and her scarf and followed behind the group which was slightly lead by him. He spoke little that night, as did she, only he acted, she would simply sit back and watch. In the company of these new people she had a drink or two, but didn’t go overboard, just had some fun. Eventually the bar called for last call and she looked over in the corner to find that Mark had found himself in the corner and wasn’t looking so great. She walked over with a worried look on her face and sat next to him, asking him if he was alright. He looked up at her with a funny look in his face as he grasped her hand lightly, looking at her face that held so much concern. “I’m not as hard as I look,” he mumbled out. She found at this point that he was a little inebriated, and in fact when she coerced him to stand up she found out that he had problems with that. He kept talking and by the time she had him by the exit she realized that everyone in their party had left. She stood him up against a wall outside and looked him in the eye, “Mark, I need you to help me here, where do you live?” He blinked once, then once again as he stared at her. She rolled her eyes as she grabbed his arm and started to talk to him, convincing him to follow her. Luckily they were about 4 blocks from her apartment so she pulled him along the entire way, not risking the movement of a taxi ride as he already looked sick.
Getting him up to her apartment she sat him down on a chair in the front room and went to the bathroom to get a washcloth to wipe off his face. By the time she got back he had fallen asleep in the chair and she held his arm and started to call his name as his eyes opened, focused, and then his face started to turn sour. Grabbing his hand she pulled him to the bathroom, placing him above the toilet as she pulled his leather jacket and his suit jacket off of him, waiting until he had calmed down a little and had leaned against the bathroom wall to undo his tie the rest of the way and a few of the buttons on his shirt. Convincing him to stay on the floor she went to the kitchen and got a glass of water and came back to hand it to him, finding him asleep on the toilet. Brushing his cheek with her hand she woke him up and started talking to him. Later that night he had gotten sick again but by about 6, when the sun was rising, she had managed to get him onto her couch with a blanket and a pillow and a trash can next to him. She fell asleep across the chair next to the couch as she watched him sleep, making sure he wasn’t too fitful and didn’t throw too much of a fuss. She fell asleep just as she looked out the window at the sun coming up over the Boston skyline.
She woke at about 10 as the sun beamed into her apartment, and her back urged her to turn over. Sighing she looked over at the couch to see the blanket folded and the pillow stacked on top of it. She stood up and looked around for him, calling his name as she looked for any kind of sign of life. He had left obviously, and she climbed into the shower to wash off the night before.
That Monday at work she had gotten in early to find that he had gotten in earlier. She sat at her drafting desk and unrolled some drawings and got her supplies out, very careful not to make eye contact with him, all the way across the room. At one point she heard him say something that she thought was directed at her, she replied, “pardon?” He didn’t look up from his drawing or change his face at all, “thanks.” She kept looking at him, waiting for eye contact as she found that she would receive none she told him, “no problem,” and went back to drawing.
That had been two weeks ago, now he had become a little more receptive to her work, even enough to tell her that there were some aspects she did better than anyone in the office. That’s what the model was for, he needed a model done, but there wasn’t enough time to take it to the model shop and while he claimed he just ‘had too much to do’ to build a model, she had seen his manual work before, and while his drawings were clear and crisp, his models weren’t.
She looked back at her own draft and drew in a small line, paused, and then looked back out the stormy window, laughing at her current mood, thinking herself to be a silly girl. It then dawned on her that she had no idea how they had ended up going out to dinner together. She remembered it had been a late night, and he had moved over by her desk with a drawing of his as they talked over the music, but he never worked, just watched her work. She didn’t want to stop for fear that he’d leave, but they had talked for hours about life and about good restaurants and he had mentioned one in particular. Being new to the area he suggested that he take her out there and discover the joys of good food. They had picked a night, it wasn’t really clear whether he had or they had decided. All she knew was that they ended up there. She had gotten there on time, he came a little late. The dinner ensued and they spoke, he spoke more, but she was interested, it wasn’t just her listening.
She put a small dot of glue on a piece of wood in her hand and placed it against her model, holding it in as she leaned on her table. She paused and thought, looked over the model a few times and as she tested the piece she had her fingers on she let go and sauntered over to the couch. Sitting down in the very center of the very white and very fluffy couch, she placed her hands in between her knees as she stared forward at the black screen of the TV. She looked around her apartment, everything very clean and minimalist and in its place. She was bored, not in the sense that she had nothing to do, but more that her head was completely distracting herself from everything she had to get done.
She stood up and walked up to the CD player that was next to the TV. Turning on some music she switched the song to a sad one, not completely depressing, but enough to make her walk slowly and want to go walking for hours on end with a warm drink in her hand. She went and looked back out one of her windows, looking back at the work she had to get done. Sighing she smiled and moved back to the table, sitting down to draft.
She hadn’t gone to bed much before 4 that night, but she got her model built for him, and she got all of her drawings drafted too. She lugged them into the office as she sat her stuff down exactly at 8 o’clock. She sat down for a second before she picked up the rather large model and carried it over to his desk, lightly setting it down. It had taken her days, but the model was complete, it had oak trimming, and the wood floors, and she had gotten the right colored boards for the side, cut the metal by hand and had smoothed everything over. He wasn’t there yet, he was due in soon she was sure, but he wasn’t there. She grabbed a sticky note for the desk next to her and started to scribble, “hey, got it done last night, if there’s any problems you know where I am.”
She put her jacket on her desk and got her purse, heading down to the bottom floor of the building to go to the bakery. She got there and got her usual morning coffee and croissant, she waited in line until the little old lady behind the counter called, “next.” She smiled to see the young girl’s face, “good morning Dana, the usual?” Dana shook her head yes and smiled as she got out her money. When the coffee and her croissant had been placed on the top of the counter she leaned over, handed her money over and smiled, whispering, “keep the change,” as she winked and walked away. The lady smiled and waved, wishing her a nice day.
By the time Dana had made it back up to her desk it was about 8:15 and there were a few people there, technically work hours began at 8, though no one ever showed up except her. She had already delivered her model and she didn’t have too much else to do, so she figured she could drop off her stuff first, then get her coffee. She sat down and looked over her shoulder and out the window; she was brought back by Mark’s hands on her desk, looking at her. She had a smile as she turned around, hoping for a good reaction. “Good Morning,” she said pleasantly, taking another sip of her coffee. He paused before he spoke, there was no smile on his face, it was completely expressionless, “it’s past 8, you just got in.” She was confused, she looked up at him and pressed her eyebrows together, “but, I was here at 8, and I put the model on your desk.” She looked over and saw the model there and several other co-workers coming in and setting their stuff down, the entire office still wasn’t in. She was confused and looked up at him just as he was walking away and saying, “make sure you get here on time, I’ll remember this.”
Just then the person who worked at the desk next to her, Ian, came in and looked at her, her face completely blank and confused. He set his stuff down carefully and then leaned over on her desk, “sweetie, are you ok?” She stared ahead blankly. He commented again, “what was that all about? He’s all upset and stuff…he totally just reamed you!” Again, she sat there with no expression; finally she regained her composure and looked down, shaking it off, “it’s no big deal, not even worth it.” She went back to her work, setting out her drawing and putting on her headphones, not generally something she’d do.
Later that day one of the senior executives called her into their office and asked if the model was her work. She paused, she wasn’t sure what to say, no matter how much he had humiliated or pissed her off she didn’t want to make him look bad. She meekly looked down and whispered, “yeah.” Her boss looked out the window again, to see the model, and looked back at Dana, “it’s nice stuff.” She looked up surprised, she had been expected to be ridiculed for her practice, not praised. She was a little confused, but she managed to get out, “th-thanks.” He looked back out the window one last time and back at her as he sat down, “I’m looking for a new drafter to move up, just someone who has the skills to not only draft, and get models done, but who has the ability to deal with customers. I’m not going to lie, it’s our position in the company to watch you work, and to see who and what you are. Your social skills, even after only being here a month were amazing. I’ve had a few of the employees comment that it’s fun to have some music in the office, and when you make popcorn they come running. We’ve always had employee parties, and gone out for drinks after work, but we’ve never had a company movie night or anything, we’ve never rejoiced in staying late to draft. It makes them really happy--which is why I’d like to see if we can find a new place for you.” Dana’s jaw almost hit the ground. She looked at him, but she composed herself very quickly, “that sounds fabulous.” He picked up a paper, but didn’t read it, “keep up the good work, I’m talking with my associates about what we can do, I’d like to keep your manual skills going, but I’d also like to see you have some sort of power, because they wouldn’t look at you like they look at Mark, he’s imposing, he’s got this whole power trip going lately since the rumors have started flying around.” Her attention stayed focused on her boss, now walking around the office as he sat on his desk, “I assume you’ve heard that he’s going to be moved up, maybe not to associate, but onto something less people involved, more design. He’s got some good design ideas, and he’s focused on what he wants.” Dana nodded her head and spoke, “I noticed that in his designs, he’s got a lot of thought and detail in them, there was extra spaces in places that appeared strange, but I got to thinking and there’s a lot of purpose in them.” He nodded at her comment and ended with, “well, that’s where we see you going, and I’ll talk to you later this week, we’re having a meeting today after the group meeting.” She thanked him for that and walked out, with a smile, and went back to her desk.
She had been working for a few minutes when Mark slightly stormed over to her desk, she had completely forgotten earlier, so she greeted him with a smile as he spoke, “one of these walls is made out of the wrong material, I need this model for today, and that’s not how the design goes.” She looked at the piece he had in his hand, examined it, and then flipped it around to show the ribbed part, “there.” He looked down at the piece in his hand, considering how it would sit in the model, its unfinished face facing in. She looked up at him and tilted her head, “that’ll work, right?” He scoffed, “yeah,” and walked back to his desk. She sat there for a few seconds, considering what had just gone on, and remembering what had happened earlier. At one point, only about 5 minutes later, she got up from her desk, tossed her drafting pen behind her ear and walked up to Mark’s desk. She placed both hands on his desk, not trying to make a scene she said very clearly, “I’d like to talk to you.” He raised an eyebrow at her, “so talk.” She paused and calmed herself, “I’d rather not do this in public.” He turned around, set a drawing in a tube and then turned around, looking her in the eye, “Dana, talk.” Taking a breath in she started, “I just wanted to say that I think how you acted this morning was completely unacceptable. First of all, you’re not my boss, you don’t get paid more than me, and even more than that it’s not your responsibility to make sure I get here on time. Second of all, I did your work. Not that I should get concessions for that—but I’m doing something you were supposed to do. I don’t mind helping people out, or even doing something for someone, but DO NOT sit here and criticize my work until after you ask me. Tell me that you’re not sure if this piece fits, or ask why this is this way, I went by your drawings, it’s good, it may not be perfect, but it’s good. I don’t need your power trip about getting a better position taken out on me, I’m diligent, I know I can do this, and I work very hard. I appreciate the fact that you came to me and asked, but I do not appreciate how you put it, I don’t think that was at all reasonable.” She stood there, looking him in the eye, very steadily. Slowly he opened his mouth, with a small pause before her spoke, “alright, that’s acceptable.” She looked at him, with a little less of a stone face, “I don’t mean to be upset, it just frustrated me, that’s all, I know you’re a nice guy and you care about our needs, even if you don’t act like it.” He shook his head up and down and went back to drawing. She walked back to her desk with a certain reverie, she felt like she had accomplished something as people pretended not to have heard what they did, trying not to make eye contact.
That had made her day, she hadn’t talked to him at all that day, in the staff meeting that day there was a certain tension. It wasn’t until later that they had managed to talk to each other, his previous dominance was gone, he was becoming a much more lenient person, and had almost dropped his power trip. She liked the change she had seen in him, though he was still a sort of enemy in her mind, a hurdle she had to get over.
That had given her a whole new attitude, it’s been two weeks and she’d been completely in charge and cool, just managed her time, she was getting things done, she was going to bed at a respectable hour, she was running daily, she was getting her laundry done, she was getting up early every day just to look better. She had this general empowerment. She realized it one day when she was riding the train back from a meeting she had downtown, it was farther from her apartment than the office, and she had to be dressed up because they had asked her to present to a client. She had come into work that morning to get a little talk to from her bosses and she loved the look in Mark’s eye when he saw her running off to do a presentation as she waved and smiled. Her boss was right, though, Mark didn’t have the people skills to talk to a group and convince them. She had made it to the presentation, presented, left some drawings and the model and started to head home. She felt this feeling as she was on the train, there was an open seat, but she stood up, the seat filled, and it became apparent that the people around her knew she wanted to stand, they knew she was tough enough to stand. She had the Rolling Stones on her headphones and she had a smirk as her head bopped to the beat, enjoying the scenery they passed.
When she arrived at her stop she trotted off the train in her heels, barely looking both ways before crossing she felt daring. As she arrived at her building she saw someone sitting on the curb, it was Mark. She came up to him just as he stood and brushed his pants off, “so, how’d the meeting go?” She paused and started to talk, “it went well, they really liked the curved entry, one guy said it ‘felt like the building wanted me to come in’.” He nodded his head with his hands in his pockets and then something fabulous happened, a small smile started to come across his face. She paused and shook her head a little, to make sure she really was seeing this. She looked over at him and then realized nothing much had been said as his eyes remained focused on the ground, “hey, you wanna come up and have some coffee or something and talk about what they said?” He paused and pursed his lips a little in though, eventually replying, “yeah, sounds nice, actually.”
They spent the afternoon, until it got dark, talking about the project, and eventually she broke out the red wine and they talked, and at one point he leaned back, relaxed and smirked as he ran his finger along the glass. This was completely out of character for him, as he normally was so uptight and never seemed to let go. She went into the kitchen and leaned over the counter, looking at him, the silence being accepted for once, and not uncomfortable. She paused, “I’m hungry…”
[To be continued…]