Driven

Charlotte stepped off the streetcar and onto the curb Friday morning. She inhaled deeply as she stood on the sidewalk. It was just the start of the day, yet the air was already warm. The streetcar’s air-conditioning had been on the blink and the few windows that had been cracked open had made a negligible difference to the stuffiness on the crowded vehicle.

Inside or outside, air-conditioning or no, it made little difference. It was a hot, humid summer wherever you went.

Charlotte pulled at her simple black skirt and the collar of her grey, blouse attempting to free herself from the clingy feeling of the clothes on her skin. She could already feel her long, raven hair slowly going limp under the duress of the heat. She sighed. She’d have to brush the life back into it at the office. Turning, she put on her sunglasses and started her 15-minute morning walk from the streetcar stop to her office.

There was actually a stop just around the corner of her building, yet ever since she started her job, she always got off at a stop a few blocks away. On days like this, with the thermometer heading only upwards, it probably would have been wiser to just go from the streetcar into the office quickly rather than test the resolve of her hair and clothes. However, that would have gone against her routine. If nothing else, on these long summer 9-to-5 days, she had her routine.

Her office was located in the old warehouse and manufacturing area of the city. At some point, the turn of 20th century low-rise buildings –with their solid, old-style brick designs– were converted into offices and studios. There were only a few exclusive shops and restaurants around. So the sidewalks were rarely ever over-crowded and bustling like other downtown areas which is what Charlotte preferred. Also, a brisk walk was a good, healthy way to start the day and invigorate the body.

Yeah, right. She was only doing this for her health. Charlotte smirked.

As she rounded a corner, a smile teased at the edges of her lips. There was the slightest quickening of her pace as she came upon the towering glass windows of the BMW car dealership. Her steps slowed to a halt on the sidewalk as she turned and peered intently through the window and into the showroom like a kid staring into a candy shop. There it was. Her car. Her baby. All of them.

“Good morning, my babies,” she cooed.

Sleek and sexy lines. Strong and confident colours. Their outer pristine beauty was only surpassed by the beguiling power that Charlotte knew had been engineered under the hoods of these exquisite machines. She leaned forward slightly, her nose almost touching the glass, eyes transfixed and thoughts lost as she envisioned herself behind the wheel of each one of her dream cars.

“Dream” was right, of course. No way she’d be able to afford one of them at the moment. Well, if she gave up buying clothes and ate one meal a day, maybe then she could afford the bi-weekly payments and insurance.

The car was simply unattainable from where she stood. She couldn’t even bring herself to go in and ask for a test drive. Though to the untrained eye Charlotte may have appeared to be the ideal customer for such high-end cars –young, attractive, professionally attired, Asian. But she figured the sharks in the showroom would smell her receptionist’s scent the moment she walked through the door. At least standing outside it was a bit easier to put on airs that she was a successful, viable customer. She didn’t need to be condescended to by the middle-aged, snobby, pushy car salesmen.

Moreover, she couldn’t bring herself to face the one decidedly attractive sales associate she looked forward to catching a glimpse of each day, almost as much as the cars.

Noticeably younger than his colleagues, he sported dark brown hair, wavy on top but not slicked, matched by thick brows over invitingly, warm eyes — Charlotte always saw him from afar so she couldn’t quite tell the colour. He had a rich, tanned complexion. His fine suits were cut stylishly around a tall handsome frame. His walk, his nods, his looks all came across as appealingly confident. Charlotte would watch him talk as she stood on the other side of the window and wonder what his voice sounded like and what scent he wore.

He was quite…intriguing.

Okay, so she did look forward to seeing him as much as the cars. It made for quite the sexy combination. Given a choice though, she would have left the man choking on exhaust as she peeled out in her “Beamer”. He was an attractive bit of eye-coffee before a day’s work. However, it was the cars that made her heart thump.

“Where is he anyway?” Charlotte muttered softly as she bobbed her head, looking through the glass. He was often there early, before the dealership opened. The morning light reflected off the window and, without thinking, she cupped her hands around her eyes like side-blinds and leaned in closer.

Tap, tap, tap.

The young woman gasped at the sound by her ear and skipped back from the window. All poise was lost to her as she clutched her bag close to her beating heart and her mouth hung ajar. Her head jerked swiftly as she haphazardly adjusted her focus on the source of the tapping.

Standing casually on the other side of the glass was the man she had been searching for just moments ago. Now she wished it had been anyone else but him. He leaned in close to the window, his face becoming clear through the reflection, looked down towards her and stretched his lips into a knowing smile. It was undeniably attractive and a subtly seductive kick to her gut.

Charlotte remained frozen.

His dark brows pinched together and his smile angled into a more curious grin. He beckoned her with a nod. Charlotte backed up quickly then pivoted on her heel and strode away from the window with a swift step, quickly leaving the dealership behind. Along the way, she stared towards the pavement but she only saw his face. She tried to convince herself that her sunglasses had muted her look of surprise. She told herself that the burning feeling she felt in her cheeks and around her neck as they flushed red was from the heat.

”His eyes…they’re blue.”

Suddenly, Charlotte couldn’t even think about the cars anymore.

* * * * * * * * *

“Good-morning, Generation Techs Security Systems. Charlotte Ho speaking. How may I direct your call? Certainly. Please hold.” The receptionist tapped a few buttons on her “switchboard” then said, “Mr.Kwan? I have Mr.Donnelly on the line for you. Yes. Just a moment. Hello Mr.Donnelly, I’ve connected you with Mr.Kwan. You’re welcome.”

Charlotte pushed another button then leaned back in her chair and sighed. She had been working at the office for three months yet she still wasn’t entirely comfortable. Whenever the phone rang or someone came through the office doors, her neck would stiffen a touch. It probably had something to do with the fact that she never really wanted to be a receptionist. Yet she couldn’t really complain about how easily she got it. Her boss, Mr.Kwan, was her uncle. Like her, practically everyone at the start up company was either related or friends of family.

Charlotte had studied I.T. and Business in college so she thought maybe this receptionist gig was a temporary job where she could learn the ropes of her field. Her middling grades in school were telling, though. She had never been clear as to where her career path would take her. As the second daughter and youngest of four, the pressure to find a profession was not as weighty as it had been for her brothers and even her older sister.

Even the notion of just finding a rich, successful guy and marrying him was never broached that often at the dinner table. There were a lot of young guys at the office but she didn’t really have many options for starting a relationship there nor did she need to fend off advances of co-workers. Many of them were her cousins. Maybe 2 or 3 times removed, but still cousins, nonetheless.

As for the remainder: Charlotte was pretty sure she intimidated them, whether or not they were already in a relationship. She was attractive, slim, and unusually tall. In heels, she stood over most of the men in the office. Combining her physical presence with her somewhat distant, dark eyes, and cool, detached voice, she knew she came across as unapproachable at times.

She had her share of boyfriends. She and they took turns taking one another in, and then systematically spitting each other out with increasing ease and nonchalant rapidity. The interest in going to dance clubs and bars waned in her graduating year of college and never returned, replaced by daily workouts at the gym. She hung out with girlfriends shopping or watching movies, but even they were quickly finding partners or worse, actually figuring out what they wanted to do with their lives and focusing all their energy in attaining those goals.

Her goals, at the moment, consisted of attaining a gleaming, 4-tonne, fresh off the line, customized mass of metal, fiberglass, electronics and leather sculpted by Germans into a slick bullet on wheels.

“Hey Charlotte?” A man in chocolate brown short-sleeves and shorts appeared seemingly out of nowhere standing in front of the reception desk.

For the second time that morning, the young woman was caught in a bit of a stupor.

She blinked and said, “Good morning, Amir. That time of day already?”

“Yup,” the delivery man nodded and placed a few small packages and envelopes on the desk.

The two of them didn’t bother with any further curt niceties. Amir held out the electronic pad and Charlotte signed it. She cringed, annoyed with how the digital display made her signature look like “Charcoal Wo”.

Both Amir and Charlotte said “thanks” and “bye”, then he was gone.

She pulled off her ear-piece and slipped her hand under her long hair and around to the back of her neck. She closed her eyes as she massaged a kink out gently.

It had been a busy morning at the office. They had been planning an open-house for the last few weeks and calls from clients and caterers had been almost non-stop. The usual peace of her reception area was constantly being interrupted by her uncle and other employees as they tried to pull everything together for the evening’s showcase. Everyone in the company could dismantle a computer and put it back together wearing blindfolds. Nobody knew where to put the cheese plates and fruit trays.

Unsurprisingly, the grunt work for the evening’s social was gravitating towards her. Also unsurprisingly, as the hours…the minutes…ticked by, the sense of urgency swelled and the incessant phrase “Charlotte, can you do this, please?” was quickly replaced by, “Charlotte, I need this…now.”

Her internal phone line rang. Quickly slipping her ear-piece in place, Charlotte tapped a button. “Yes?”

“Has the delivery guy come yet?” a voice piped in on the other end.

“He just left,” Charlotte said nodding. “You’ve got a few things here.”

“This is Eddie,” the voice said.

Charlotte rolled her eyes. “I know it’s you, Eddie. I just said that you have–”

“Bring it to me when you can,” Eddie, a cousin on her mother’s side and the lead programming director for the company, broke in, “Oh before that, I want you to get the delivery guy back. We have something that has to go out ASAP.”

Now she rolled her eyes. “It doesn’t work that way. I just can’t go running–”

“So just call him, no worries,” her cousin said, “Then we want you to call the caterers again. One of the clients apparently has an allergy thing with carrots. Make sure there are no carrots on the veggie plates. We don’t want to kill a customer.”

“No we don’t want to do that,” Charlotte replied dryly.

“Also, Uncle wants you to call the building security. Remind them about people coming here after hours tonight,” Eddie continued.

“Already did that a week ago.”

“Just make sure. Bring the things to the Kennel,” he said, then hung up.

“I know,” Charlotte spoke into dead air. She rubbed her temple and sighed, “I already know what everyone else wants.”

As that thought passed through her head, she suddenly and surprisingly caught herself smiling. It was a self-mocking smile.

”And since no one’s gonna ask: What do you want?” she thought to herself.

She leaned back into her chair and stretched out. Then with a subtle yawn, she reached forward and scooped the packages from her desk. “I want a car!” she groused aloud. It usually was her mantra on days such as this. Except this morning, the cars actually took a backseat in her thoughts.

She had a clear look at him that morning. No longer standing at a distance, she had a good look at his face: his high-bridged nose, squared-off and smooth shaven chin, long-lined lips…and his blue eyes perfectly set within a dark, handsome face. The eyes were the last puzzle piece, never having had a close look at them. Now his image had become indelible…and it made her pulse run as fast as the cars she dreamed about. She didn’t even know who he was. The unexpected impulses she had toward him culminated solely from a raw, physical image of the man.

And now he was aware of her. That vestige of anonymity had been broken that morning, those eyes acknowledging her presence, that deliberate smile speaking something to her. She knew –in that brief moment she knew– those eyes of his weren’t the type to forget, and that smile…

She couldn’t face him. Just another unattainable item.

Lost in thought, Charlotte drifted along the hallway of the office and passed through a couple of doors, entering the “Kennel”. Nothing like its canine associated namesake, the nerve center of the firm was a large warehouse studio boxed by rows of windows spilling in natural light, 15-foot high ceilings with huge fans slowly spinning overhead, and exposed brick walls. The ugliness of desks and cubicles were softened by careful floor-planning and strategically placed plants and trees. It was warm and inviting, not at all the chaos one might expect from an I.T. office.

As she made her way to a back corner of the large room, Charlotte was slowed by a gauntlet of requests and questions from the employees. If it were anyone else, likely they would have ended up running away or else screaming in frustration. Yet Charlotte, going against her often cool and distant demeanour, obliged everyone. Whatever she thought of the job, whatever she thought of any of her coworkers, despite indeed sometimes feeling like she wanted to run and scream, she did what she was told. It made life simpler.

She finally arrived at Eddie’s workstation and put the items down on his desk. Her cousin with the frosted brush-cut and pinpoint black eyes gazed at his monitor.

“Do you have those things that you want to be delivered?” she asked, “I’ll go call the delivery service before I speak to the security and call the caterers.”

Eddie finished typing something, then turned and looked up at Charlotte. “Yeah, here,” he said and held out some envelopes.

Charlotte pursed her lips as she shuffled through the envelopes, making sure they were filled out correctly.

“I also want you to run an errand this afternoon,” Eddie said.

“Hmm? Me?” Charlotte glanced from behind the envelopes.

“Everyone else is trying to get their shit together here before the caterers start arriving.”

“What do you want me to get?”

“Cupcakes,” Eddie replied.

“Uh…okay. Repeat, please?”

“Cupcakes…from Christine’s Bakery,” he said, “You know, a couple of blocks down off of Maitland Street.”

Charlotte dropped her arms and frowned, “I know where it is, but what’s with the cupcakes?”

“Christine’s cupcakes,” Eddie corrected, “We’re not talking Twinkies. Christine’s cupcakes. I’ve just ordered 5 dozen for tonight and they don’t deliver.”

The receptionist paused for a moment then smirked and said, “So which of our clients wants Christine’s cupcakes?”

Eddie stretched his pink lips into a broad smile. “No one. Me. I want Christine’s cupcakes.”

Charlotte shook her head. “It’s not in the budget,” she said, “Uncle Peter won’t–”

“Uncle Peter wants a dozen strawberry cream,” Eddie interrupted, grinning.

Her mouth was still open but she closed it without speaking another word. Whatever. It wasn’t her money. Except now she had to go out into the heat and pick up 60 cupcakes.

“Is that what you’re wearing for tonight?” Eddie broke into Charlotte’s thoughts.

She blinked. “What?”

His small, black eyes scanned her deliberately from head-to-toe.

“You were expecting me to change?” she asked, “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing? Everyone else here is in polo tops and slacks.”

“Yeah, but that’s the way they expect us to look…casually professional. We’re cool but capable,” he said, “But you’re supposed to be the demure and welcoming receptionist. You’ll be the first person they meet tonight.”

Charlotte frowned, thinking. Finally she spoke, “Wait. Do you mean I’m supposed to stay at my desk all night just greeting people?”

Eddie shrugged his answer.

There was a long silence between them. A defeated calm settled within Charlotte. “I’ll get the cupcakes after lunch,” she said.

She turned and walked towards the Kennel’s exit. Along the way, she noted four more requests from the staff.

* * * * * * * * *

The usual route to Christine’s Bakery would have taken her past he dealership so she took a different one. It didn’t stop her from thinking about the cars and the man behind the window all along the way. She also paid for it. The extra 10 minute walk in the stifling humidity and sweltering sun had sapped her of the very little precious energy she had left. Now carrying 3 flat tray boxes of cupcakes in her outstretched arms, there was no way she could take the detour again without passing out on the sidewalk. She doubted that the cupcakes could have lasted that long in the heat as well.

She paused as she turned the corner. She could see the dealership windows a few meters away. Maybe if she went across to the other side of the street?

“What the hell is wrong with you?” She closed her eyes and shook her head as she berated herself, “Stop being so stupid!”

She was just going to walk by the dealership and go straight back to the office. She wouldn’t even turn her head. The guy wasn’t standing by the windows all day waiting for her to pass by.

Clucking her tongue, she started ahead with confident strides of her long legs. God it was hot. Out of the corner of her eye she could see that she was passing by the windows of the showroom. Before she could even think, she had already tilted her head slightly to “just steal a look”. Her lack of resolve was disappointing. Accepting that fact, she slowed her pace to a crawl and turned her head fully to peer into the dealership.

“Whoa! Watch yourself there.”

A deep, smooth voice called out from directly in front of her. Realizing she was about to crash into somebody with her trays of cupcakes, Charlotte stumbled to a stop apologizing as she turned her head, “Oh! Sorry!”

She blinked and there he was, half a meter in front of her, the guy that she was too embarrassed to face. She looked right into his piercing blue eyes and lurched forward as if she couldn’t stop her legs from moving.

Two strong hands reached out and grabbed her by her shoulders, halting her. “Careful,” the man said to her, bracing her firmly in his hands.

Charlotte gasped and immediately stepped back awkwardly. The trays of cupcakes began to slip.

The man reached out and helped her steady the boxes.

“Sorry. Thanks. Sorry,” she repeated, unable to think of anything else to say. She pulled one hand out from underneath the trays to try to sweep the hair from her eyes and regain some composure. The cupcakes began to slip again.