I give her a slight nod in return, “See you later then.” With our brief encounter done, she walks pass me into the main office and I rush pass her and turn the corner, walking into another room with only eight cubicles and a separate room at the back. It’s silent of voices with only the sound of fingers rapidly moving across keyboards. When I walk into my cubicle, I hang up my blazer on a small hook and drop right into my chair. I close my eyes for a moment to relax before I start another long, boring day behind a desk.
“You almost made it. Just almost.”
“Not just yet, Eliza. I just got in. It’s too early to try and roast each other.”
“Technically, you’re fifteen minutes late, so it’s actually well within permitted roasting hours.”
I open my eyes halfway and look up at the top of my cubicle. With just the top of her head peeking out so I can see her eyes my co-worker and friend, Eliza Stone, gives me a long stare with her light brown-colored eyes.
Eliza’s been working for the company for the last ten years or so. She’s practically a celebrity around the office, being known as the “Foreign Ice Queen” for her quick witted remarks and icy cold stares at people she isn’t too fond of. She’s always getting complimented for her perfectly tan skin that shines in the sunlight, her long and free-flowing black hair, and a body that seems to be the definition of a sinner. Throw in her British accent and she’s a power house of flirting when she wants to. However, as I’m looking at her, I notice something’s a bit different about her looks.
“You’re not wearing glasses anymore. Got laser eye surgery?”
“Nope. Got prescription contacts shipped to my place yesterday. Figured I’d give them a whirl for a while.”
“Good. We only need one person wearing glasses around here, and it’s gonna be me.”
Eliza’s eyes narrow, her signature sign of beginning an interrogation, “You sayin’ I don’t look good in frames, love?”
“All I’m saying is if anybody around is the one true wearer of glasses, it’s me,” I answer with a shrug.
Eliza keeps her stare on me for a little bit longer, then retreats back into her cubicle, “Fine. You can have the title. Besides, glasses look better on you than they do me.”
I crack my knuckles and slide my chair closer to my desk to start working when I reply back, “Your words, not mine.”
“Speaking of words, did you ever get the email about that new tenant over in Rose’s building?”
“The one with all of the tattoos and the dog? Didn’t he try to file a lawsuit against the landlord for the building not being ‘pet friendly? I read the contract and it obviously says a rule with pets, but not completely banning them.”
With the talk about the new tenant and his dog, my daily, boring work day officially begins.
* * * * *
The warm glow from the sun adds a nice, relaxing touch to our afternoon lunch break. People in suits, dresses, and professional business attire are rushing around us trying to get their lunch before they have to head back into their office. There’s this new health craze going around that’s suppose help people lose weight by either eating less, or eating only certain foods that boost your metabolism. The way Eliza and I eat, it’s obvious we don’t care about that stuff.