Chapter Two
Jeremy
Her perfume lingers in the air as I walk back to my desk. It has a vanilla scent with a hint of something I can’t pinpoint.
As I walked into the office this morning, I didn’t expect to see Hannah Upton waiting for me at my desk. I couldn’t miss her wine-red hair, so I took a moment to gather myself before talking to her.
I wish her computer was actually busted or had a bigger issue, so I could spend more time with her.
I’ll never forget my first day at BHI a few months ago, when Chen, another I.T. specialist who works on the floor above, showed me around the office and introduced me as Aaron’s replacement. Amidst a sea of blondes and brunettes, she stood out with her fiery red hair, engaged in lively conversation with a friend.
I think she is without a doubt the most gorgeous person here. Her hair color pops against her tan skin, and her makeup is always subtle and not over the top. Her laughter and smile keep playing in my mind all day long.
Although I’m good at socializing, whenever I talk to Hannah, things get awkward no matter how hard I try. I can usually talk to anyone; except I am lost for words with her.
“Hey Jere, are you busy?” I look up just in time to see Sean waving at me. I go over to his desk, and it’s already a mess even though he just started work.
“Hey, what’s up?” I inquire, leaning against his desk.
Leaning back in his chair, he asks “Just wanted to know how your weekend went? How did you recover from Friday’s drinks?”
With a grimace, I remember waking up hungover on Saturday morning. I had to wake up early to teach my junior surf class despite the hangover. Sean won’t be interested so I just say “super hungover.”
“Yeah, I felt the same way. Although probably not as bad as Ash who had a tough time when the Uber left him,” he says.
Chuckling, I mention “Yeah he seems accustomed to recovering well after a night out.”
Ash is famous for getting wasted at work events and then being perfectly fine the next day.
Sean adds with a snort of derision, “Yeah, true.”
“Hey Jere,” calls a feminine voice to my left and I turn to see Taya plugging in her laptop at the desk beside Sean’s.
“Hey Taya, how’s it going?” I say.
“I’m good. How are things with you? How was your weekend?”
And here we go.
I don’t dislike Taya-she’s cool. I just frequently find myself trapped in conversations with others throughout the office. I recall the coffee on my desk that is growing cold.
I feel my work phone vibrating and pull it out of my pocket. An alert notifies me that someone at desk 709 needs help because they are locked out of their computer from entering the wrong password multiple times.
I let Sean and Taya know that I have a task to get to, pocket the phone and leave them to their work.