Only You I Love: Storyteller Cosmetics, #4

Only You I Love

Chapter One

Sun streamed through the bedroom window, heating up Danielle's face until she turned over in her sleep to avoid it. On the night stand, a clock radio blared out the morning news, giving the weather and traffic report before switching to a throbbing Latin hip hop beat. Only once the electro drums were pounding did Danielle's eyes open.

Holy crap.

She knew immediately that she was late, it wasn't hard to tell from the brightness of the Miami sun coming in through the shades. Her eyes were crusty. What the hell time had she gone to bed last night? Caught up in a video game, fueled by soda and chips, she vaguely remembered seeing it was long past two before deciding to finish her mission and then sleep. And now look what had happened.

She jumped out of bed, ran for the shower, and was in and out in precisely thirty seconds, enough time to soap, shampoo and rinse. She put on a spray of deodorant and ran her fingers roughly through her short, dark hair, pushing it back off her face. Running back into her bedroom, she pulled on a t-shirt, then rummaged around the mess on the floor looking for her jeans. Boy jeans, they were always boy jeans. Her figure was straight up and down, and boy jeans were the only ones that didn't fall down, plus they were baggy and comfortable, just the way she liked them.

Keys and wallet from the dresser, a can of energy drink from the fridge, an untoasted Pop-Tart from the cupboard and she was out. From waking up to slamming the door of her apartment had taken a grand total of six minutes. Not bad. But then, she'd had plenty of practice.

Her sneakers slapped the pavement as she tried to run and chow down on her Pop-Tart at the same time. She darted across the street, almost getting hit in the process, and turned the corner. She couldn't be late for work, not again. The last time that had happened someone had called in a ticket from the executive floor and she hadn't been at her desk to receive it. That had gotten her a pretty mean reprimand from HR, something that she didn't want to be repeated.

As she neared the Storyteller Cosmetics building, she slowed up, eating her last few mouthfuls of breakfast more calmly. She'd make it now, she still had a couple of minutes. As she chewed and walked slowly towards the doors, she saw other employees streaming in from the parking lot and the bus stop down the street. Sleek lined suits, high heels, hair teased and curled, lips glossy and painted.

Not for the first time did Danielle think of the irony of someone like her working somewhere like this. A cosmetics company. Jeez. Her mom had almost had a heart attack when she'd told her, joy flooding over the phone as she thought maybe at last her little tomboy was growing up.

She kicked the curb as she walked up to cut through the corner of the parking lot. Make up and girly stuff had never held much interest for her. It wasn't that she was against them or anything, she guessed that everything had its place. It was just that she never seemed to have time to deal with any of that stuff. Take this morning, for example, she'd have definitely been late if she'd had to fuss around with mascara and what not. There was always something better to do, some interesting piece of coding, a new game to play, a board game night with her friends, a few more snatched minutes of sleep. Besides, she'd have no idea what the hell she was doing with mascara anyway.

The big glass doors into the foyer were heavy, and she pushed hard, feeling the flood of air conditioning from inside. She liked working at Storyteller, makeup or no makeup. The place had a relaxed atmosphere, the people were nice, the work was interesting enough, and certainly paid well enough. She had friends here, and, contrary to her expectations when she'd hesitantly taken the job, no one had ever tried to persuade her to put on lipstick.

She took the stairs, rubber sneakers squeaking slightly on the glass. Miami had been her top choice. After the long cold winters growing up in Minnesota, all she'd wanted after graduation was to get some sunshine, and she hadn't really cared too much where. As it turned out, a ticket to Miami had been cheaper than one to California or Hawaii, so that's where she'd ended up going, hiking her duffel bag up onto her shoulder and stepping onto the plane. She'd been confident that her IT degree would get her a job pretty much anywhere, and it had. The most important thing for her was just to be damn warm for a change.

Rounding the corner of the stairs, she started up the next flight. Unlike in many buildings, the IT guys weren't relegated to the darkness of the basement. Sure, they had some servers down there, in the dark, more easily kept cool, but the actual IT offices were on the third floor, with big picture windows and plenty of light. Yet another reason she loved working at Storyteller.

She'd made friends in Miami easily enough. She'd found that wherever she went, there were always people like her. Geeky people, she thought, grinning to herself. In middle school, even in high school, she'd hated been called a geek. Hated it because she knew it was true, but also because she knew that the word signalled a lack of acceptance, meant that something was wrong with her, at least in the eyes of her classmates. But she was determined to reclaim the word, to be proud of her video game, board game, coding, and programming geekiness. She had to admit though, it was easier to be comfortable with herself now that she had like minded friends. A lot easier.

As she got to the third floor she paused for a second, as she always did, to look up at the atrium above the stairway, appreciate the sparkling glass and the yellow sunshine. And then she saw the final reason that she liked working at Storyteller. On one of the mezzanine landings, she caught a quick glance of elegantly styled blonde hair and a glimpse of tight jeans, and felt her insides flip over a little. She had no idea of his name, just that he was working in the perfume department. He'd been around for a couple of months now, and was just about as perfect as a man could be. Not that she had a hope with someone like that, but she was used to that kind of thing now. It was enough to get a look at him every now and again.

Crap. All that hurrying would be for nothing if she didn't actually walk into her office on time. She jogged down the hall, turning the door handle right on time.

Yo, Dan, come take a look at this.

Hold up a second.

She dropped her messenger bag next to her cluttered desk, then headed over to Joe's desk to check out the weekly usage stats that he wanted to show her. The rest of her morning disappeared into a pleasurable flood of numbers.

***

Dan, you gotta get some lunch, man. Can't have you starving.

She looked up from her double monitors and saw Joe sucking on a big cup full of soda and grinned before noticing the time. Yeah, it was long past lunch, she'd been distracted. That seemed to happen to her a lot.

Okay, okay. I'll go out now. Anyone else want anything from the sub place? she asked the room in general.

After collecting a few soda orders, she grabbed her bag and left the office, running down the stairs, anxious to be out in the sun if only for a few minutes. She walked down the street, feeling the pleasant tingle of warmth on her skin and smelling the ocean so close by, glad for the zillionth time that she lived in Miami and wondering whether to go for a Cuban or a meatball sub. The store was close by, just on the corner, and was the IT guys' regular hang out for lunch, so much so that she was greeted by name when she pushed the door open.

Hey, Juan, she said, smiling at the owner's young son.

All of fifteen, she didn't think that he was old enough to be working, but no one seemed to mind too much, and the kid made a mean sandwich. She placed her order and got the sodas she needed from the fridge. Juan bagged them up for her to make them easier to carry. As an afterthought she got a couple of bags of chips. They were always handy to have in her desk drawer, since at least once a week or so she lost track of time and ended up staying in the office until late. Sandwich ready, she paid her bill and made to leave.

She was just turning to the door when it opened, surprising her and hitting the bag of sodas that she held with a loud clanking noise.

Jeez, watch out! she said.

Oh, man, I'm sorry. You okay?

And then, she was looking at him. Green eyes, she noted absently. The guy from perfume. She stuttered for a moment before settling on nodding rather than actually answering his question. He smelled like citrus, a light, breezy scent. She could see the light shining on the fine down of his cheeks.

Cool, sorry about that, he said, and stepped past her, leaving her foot propping the door open.

He went over to put his order in, and for a second or two Danielle just stood there, watching his back, before realising that she looked like an idiot and was letting all the air conditioning out. She stepped outside and let the door swing closed again.

She walked slowly back to the Storyteller offices, thinking. She felt like an idiot, struck dumb by him, not even able to say the word yes. But it was the first time she'd heard his voice and it was so deep and clear that she'd been shocked by it. And now he thought she was some shy kid who couldn't even speak. Great. Not like she'd be in with a chance, but still, it would have been nice to make a good first impression.

He was probably gay anyway, she told herself. Carefully styled hair like that and working in the perfume department, how could he not be? She kicked at a pebble on the pavement. Even if he weren't, he'd be drowning in girls. Probably had a different number for every night of the week. She sighed, and turned into the Storyteller parking lot, swinging the bag of sodas thoughtlessly. Just her luck.

She'd never been lucky with guys. Never. Either she fell for someone completely inappropriate and out of her league like perfume guy, or had to deal with letting down some programming nerd that had got the wrong idea. Being in IT meant that there was no shortage of men around, but none of them ever seemed to strike her fancy. She, on the other hand, was pure fantasy material for some of the guys in her college classes. A girl that not only liked computers, but that liked gaming and fantasy novels, too. But she never knew how to deal properly with letting someone down. She hated hurting people's feelings.

Soda's up, she announced, as she walked into the office.

She put the bag of sodas on an empty desk by the door, then took her chips and sandwich over to her own desk. She yawned as she unwrapped her sub. Okay, no gaming tonight, she promised herself. She was going to curl up in bed with a book and get a great night's sleep and get up early, hell, maybe even fit in a jog by the beach before work tomorrow.

She took a big bite of her late lunch, careful not to drip dressing onto her keyboard, as she turned her attention back to the code she was working on. And then she was lost in the simple logic of it all, and barely even tasted her sandwich.

***

The office was quiet the next time Danielle looked up. The sky outside the windows was a deep, velvety blue, and she knew that it was late. Not the midnight kind of late, but late enough. She stretched out the kinks in her back and looked at her screen. She guessed she'd reached a good stopping point. It was seven now. She knew damn well that if she started to work again it would be midnight before she knew it, so she decided to finish up in the morning. Might as well head home, maybe even stop off at the grocery store and fill up the fridge with something other than energy drinks. And she'd eaten the last Pop-Tart that morning, she remembered.

She closed down her monitor and picked up her messenger bag, slinging it over her back before walking out, making sure that the office door was locked behind her. As she walked past the elevator she heard it ding and figured, what the hell. She'd taken the stairs enough today. So she pressed the button and stepped inside, and as the doors slid closed, she smelled a familiar scent. Lemony. Citrus. Light. Seriously? Were the Gods just playing tricks on her? Perfume guy had been in here, she knew it. She inhaled his scent, wondering what it was called.

When she stepped out into the foyer she deliberately took her time, wandering slowly towards the front doors, not wanting to risk bumping into him again. She'd made enough of an idiot of herself for one day, she thought, and didn't want another chance meeting.

The evening was warm, and she'd always liked the night, so she made a right out of the front door instead of the left that would have taken her straight home. She wanted to walk along the beach for a while, and while the route was longer, she decided that she deserved it. The sand crumbled beneath her sneakers, she heard the roaring of the ocean, and watched the last few beach goers pack up their stuff.

One of the reasons that she'd chosen her apartment building was that it was so close to the beach that she could walk to work along the edge of the sand if she chose to. Well, that and it had been cheap. She enjoyed her salty walk along the beach and was sad when she needed to turn off onto a side street.