Kapitel 7: Chapter 7 Dominic
When I walked into the office on that Monday morning, I was surprised to see her already settled at her desk. Her coat, a striking piece that spoke volumes about her taste, lay casually draped over the chair behind her. Yet, despite her presence, the office was conspicuously devoid of activity. I stole a quick glance at my watch, feeling a wave of confusion wash over me, it was barely seven-thirty. I began to scan the room, curiosity gnawing at me, trying to piece together her whereabouts in the surprisingly quiet space. Just as I was about to take another step inside, I heard her clear her throat softly from behind, an innocent sound that sent a shiver down my spine.
I pivoted to greet her, a simple "good morning" hovering on my lips, but the words faltered as they collided with the sight before me. She sported yet another vintage-inspired blouse, the kind that seemed to belong to a different era entirely. The delicate lace trim at her throat and wrists added an air of elegance, while the soft mossy green of the fabric complemented her complexion beautifully. Her skirt fell perfectly, modest in design yet, on her, it held an allure that was undeniably captivating. It fit her so impeccably molding to her hips and thighs with a precision that made it look as though it had been custom-tailored just for her.
Her hair was styled elegantly, swept up and away from her face, accentuating her features in a way that made my heart race. For a fleeting moment, an irresistible vision crossed my mind of fingers tangled in her hair, of drawing her closer as I kissed her, lost in a moment where nothing else mattered. I felt the pressure of that desire welling up inside me, the urgency to step away from that magnetic pull, and so I instinctively stepped back, shaking my head slightly to clear my thoughts.
My gaze dropped to her shoes, a conscious effort to distract myself, and when I finally met her eyes again, I found her expression clouded with mild confusion. "Managed to keep your shoes on this time," I remarked, my voice sharper than I intended, clipped as if to sever the connection that threatened to form between us.
She responded with a smile, one that seemed to light up the room and effortlessly veil my original intent behind it. Instantly, however, I regretted my flippant words. I had no desire to cultivate any kind of relationship with her, no inside jokes or shared moments meant to deepen our connection. To me, she was merely a means to make my day-to-day life at the office a little less complicated, a professional fixture whose role I was determined to keep strictly work-related. That was all she was meant to be.
"I'm resolute about making that bus this morning," she proclaimed, a spark igniting in her tone. "So here's the game plan : I'll grab you a coffee first, and then it's off to the Human Resource office. They've specifically requested my return by eight."
Intrigued, I probed, "And what time did you actually make it in today?"
She shrugged with an air of casual indifference. "I rolled in just around seven. Richard was gracious enough to let me in. We had quite the chat on Friday as I was heading out. He's a thoroughly delightful gentleman."
With a swift turn on her heel, she strolled away, her movement almost provoking a groan from me. The sight of her skirt, bold with a daring slit, draped perfectly across her form, was undeniably distracting. I shook off the lingering thoughts as I entered my office and hung up my coat, settling into my desk chair, attempting to regain my focus.
Just as I started to orient myself, Ms. Fairchild breezed into my office, clutching a steaming cup of coffee that wafted an intoxicating aroma. She set it down delicately before sinking into the same chair she'd occupied last Friday, pulling out her notebook with a poised anticipation. With her pen poised, she looked at me, a hint of mischief sparkling in her eyes. "So, my esteemed colleague, what shall I call you?" she asked, her expression an intriguing mix of curiosity and playfulness.
Raising an eyebrow, I replied with a dry wit, "Well, I'd wager my name is a solid starting point."
"Are we leaning towards formalities, or do you favor a more casual approach?" she pursued, undeterred.
"Let's keep it professional," I replied, a grin creeping across my face. "Business it is, then."
"Suit yourself, Mr. Dominic," she said, adopting her newfound mantle with charm. "I have my morning all mapped out, but is there anything specific weighing on your mind?"
I leaned forward slightly, pushing the aesthetically crafted coffee toward her with a teasing smile. "It's quite a beautiful cup of coffee, Ms. Fairchild, but I prefer mine black, no milk, no sugar, and definitely no artistic foam recreations."
She hesitated, her expression momentarily deflated as if I had crushed her dreams. "I suspected as much, but I hoped you'd recognize the artistry involved. Allow me to savor this one, and I'll craft you a proper black coffee in no time." She paused, a flicker of mischief returning to her demeanor. "And should you ever want to dazzle a client with some caffeine artistry, just give me a shout."
A chuckle escaped my lips unexpectedly. "I'll keep your offer close to my heart," I replied, painfully aware of the charm she exuded when she let her smile free. "Generally, it's my charm that tends to sway clients, but I'll be sure to consider your skills."
Our eyes locked, and I found her gaze captivating. Her dark, warm eyes framed by long, natural lashes seemed to draw me in. Today, she wore minimal makeup, and something about the understated look only amplified her allure.
With a resigned sigh, I remarked, "However, I must confess, I'm still rather lacking in my coffee situation."
"Oh, goodness! Right, I completely forgot," she said, vibrating with enthusiasm, springing from her chair and dashing out of the room.
I shook my head in amusement at her energy and, driven by curiosity, took a sip of the foamy coffee lingering on my desk. To my surprise, it was quite delightful a rich creaminess melded with a flavor I couldn't quite pinpoint. It pleasantly contradicted the bitterness I'd come to expect from coffee, offering up a surprisingly enjoyable experience.
Just as I was lost in my thoughts, my phone buzzed on the desk, snapping me back to reality. I glanced down at the screen, scrolling through the incoming messages. One message leapt out my mother, insisting on a meeting. Quickly bypassing it, I wasn't keen on diving into that familial storm just now. The rest of the messages could wait, I assured myself.
Moments later, Fairchild returned, once again treating my senses to the aroma of fresh coffee. She set another steaming cup down before me, her eyes wide with astonishment as she noticed my earlier overwhelming lapse. "You actually drank the first one!" she exclaimed, genuine shock lighting her features.
I looked down in surprise, realizing it was true, I had polished off the entire cup. "What can I say? I needed caffeine and didn't want to waste time pondering it," I replied, a shrug accompanying my casual dismissal.
Her eagerness sparkled as she leaned forward, eyes brimming with bright anticipation. "And what was your verdict?" she inquired, her expression hanging on my response.
"It was most passable," I said with a deliberate air of nonchalance as I lifted the fresh cup. I took a moment, crafting an exaggeratedly thoughtful pause, then continued, "Much improved, Ms. Fairchild. Now, if you wouldn't mind taking a seat again. I need to formulate my expectations clearly."
With a begrudging hint of reluctance, she returned to her chair, disappointment flickering across her features like a passing cloud, but she dutifully opened her notebook, her readiness for the meeting reemerging. "I'm prepared whenever you are," she affirmed, her focus sharpening as we shifted toward the tasks before us.
Wöchentlicher Energiestatus
-- Power-
Rangliste 
-- Power-
Stein