I’ve been told I have a provocative smile, one that could get me anything I ask for. I’ve looked in the mirror many times and see nothing special. Recently I’ve had my teeth bleached by my D.D.S., at a cost of $750 semoleons but so far, I haven’t caught one fish, much less the handsome, young, rich man for whom I want to set my net.
Yes, there is one I’d cast my line for but have had no opportunity. His name is Alan or Allen. He’s only been at Frankfort, Gleason and McCabe a few weeks and seems to have already shown an interest in Casey. Whether he invited her to lunch last Friday or they just happened to be leaving at the same time, I don’t know, but I keep my eyes open and see them return together.
Allen now has his name on the glass panel of his door, Allen Kirk. Several times a day he passes my desk to gather case histories from secretaries like I am, or to go to the men’s room. I know he has a coffee thermos on his desk like the big shots have. If I want a cup, I take a break and go to the employees lounge.
My new pearly whites and provocative smile are not working any magical spell. Each morning I get a nod and another when he leaves. I’m considering blacking out my two top front teeth with a Milky Way Wrapper like we kids did years ago. Allen would surely notice my smile then. Halloween is ten months away so I table that silly idea.
Yesterday I accidentally (on purpose) let my expensive pink Waterman’s fountain pen fall off my desk just as he walks towards me. Does he stop and pick it up? No. It rolls under my desk before he notices. I am down on my hands and knees, tush in the air, my hand probing the space behind my trash can until I retrieve it. Then I see him and his brown shined loafers standing behind my chair. With a soft and pleasant voice he asks, ‘May I help you up, Ms. Glazer? Why in the world are you crawling on the floor?’ My white teeth in a red embarrassed face could not have been attractive. ‘Sorry, Mr. Kirk. See this Waterman pen? It was a gift to me from a special person in Paris and I do cherish it. The trouble is the point is broken and it no longer writes.’ He pauses and asks, ‘Why don’t you get a new neb?’ I let my provocative smile shine, lower my eyes and fib a little. ‘The story is too long and complicated.’ Bingo! Interest happens. Birds sing, bells ring. ‘How about explaining it to me over lunch today?’ I almost faint. Like a child I ask him if he is serious. ‘Of course, I’m serious. How’s 12:30? Let’s meet at the elevator.’ ‘Thank you, I’ll be there but you do know I must be back by 1:30, don’t you? Do you want me to bring roller skates?’ Mr. Kirk has a darn nice smile himself.
Lunch goes smoothly but I foolishly select a spinach salad for my meal. Half way thru, Mr. Kirk looks oddly at me. I become very self conscious. He smiles broadly, more broadly than I can, leans across the table, dips the corner of his white napkin into my glass of water and tells me to show him my white teeth. In a moment he has a piece of spinach as big as a nickle that had been stuck on my tooth on his napkin. We laugh together. It is time to return to the office. I enter first. He waits a few minutes and walks right past my desk.
Allen comes out of his office at two, holding some papers to show me and tells me what I already know. ‘You didn’t tell me about Paris and your pen. How about Friday night for dinner? The invitation is only good if you promise not to order spinach.’ ‘I won’t. I don’t even like spinach. Your smile entranced me so I couldn’t think straight. You order for me Friday.'
No comments:
Post a Comment