Chapter 4
My personal taxi waited for me as I expected when I exited my apartment in the morning. I climbed in to hear a personal welcome. Personally, I didn’t care for any of these pre-meditated, controlled frivolities. I preferred to have control of my own destiny, and not have another person choose my pathway in life, including taxi conversations.
Play the game. Play it better.
I was personally escorted up to the twenty-eighth floor of CAI, hand-scanned for entry and then personally escorted to my new office. I shared it with no-one, personally.
Thank heavens it was not sterile white. Instead, it was off white, with a pastel blue feature wall opposite an entire wall of floor to ceiling windows overlooking the city.
However, my drawing desk was white, the work desk white, and my high backed leather chair white.
I had only settled into my new flashy office for about ten minutes when Mr. Forsythe walked in; unannounced.
‘Mr. Burke, I trust that you are happy with your office and location.’ His voice was serious with no frills.
Play the game. Play it better.
‘Yes, thank-you sir.’ Politeness was not warranted, but it was part of the game.
‘Your designs Mr. Burke. Update me at 2pm daily, without fail, without tardiness.’
He drummed his knuckles on top of my desk and pierced my eyes with the icy coldness of his, before he turned on his heel and left the room.
Rudeness exemplified.
I looked around my little abode to find the security cameras. Maximum security meant that I was being watched at all times.
I located the cameras, all three of them. Every move, every word spoken or typed, every drawing on paper or technology, every breath—watched, recorded and analysed. The only thing untouched were my thoughts ... but for how long?
At 2pm, I descended a level to Mr. Forsythe’s office. White Girl was there. I bowed my head and smiled at her as I walked past.
‘Mr. Burke, Mr. Forsythe is waiting for you,’ she squeaked, exposing me to her blinding white teeth. I squinted as a walked past her.
I entered the open door to Mr. Forsythe’s office. The back of his red high backed chair was facing me again.
‘Mr. Burke, you are two minutes late. I despise tardiness. You and I will get on better if you lose the trait of bad time management. Project details?’
And I despise bad manners Mr Forsythe. I doubt that we will ever get along.
Play the game. Play it better.
‘I have spent a large portion of my time today revisiting my design and making notes. As you are aware, the mind reading communication device was only a creative outlet for my mind, a purely science fiction piece of work. I will need to get details on the anatomy of the brain and eye, medical procedures and also a time line, to see if I can produce what you are wanting in this field of communication. I also cannot guarantee that this idea of an eye implant for mind reading will work. Furthermore, I request a flexible time schedule, to allow me to come and go as I see fit. For instance, to visit medical universities for research, to watch eye or brain surgeries, and to visit places of creative inspiration. And ... I do not need a personal taxi, or escorting on or off the premises,’ I asserted in a polite manner.
Mr. Forsythe stared at me, his left hand supporting the weight of his bald shiny head in a pencil grip formation under his chin, as if in deep contemplation of my debriefing and request.
I maintained eye contact with him, my blue eyes to his cold callous black beady eyes, as he considered my request.
‘I shall permit all of your requests, except the personal taxi service and escorting onto and off the premises. I repeat to you again Mr. Burke, you are currently our most valuable employee, and we look after who and what we value. You may vacate my office now. 2pm again tomorrow, and daily unless I choose to change the time to suit my needs.’ His voice was void of emotion, very businesslike. He turned his sterile red high backed leather chair away from me. Rudeness personified. I turned and exited his office, fully aware of the security cameras watching my every move.
As I passed White Girl, I smiled coyly at her, and nodded quickly, acknowledging her presence.
‘Mr. Burke.’ Her large brown eyes followed me, but her face remained expressionless.
I like a good challenge. She will smile at me someday soon!
At precisely 2:45pm, I left my office, scanned my hand print and briskly headed to Café Oooh La Laaa! by foot, for the meeting with Amelia James—the owner of the bloody book.
I stopped at the entrance to the café, and took a deep breath. As I pushed the door open, and stepped through onto the wooden floor, a metal bell dingled announcing my arrival. I stopped walking as the door closed behind me, and scanned the faces of the patrons.
What on Earth did she look like?
E-mails didn’t give a clue about appearance. At least over the phone you could form a possible image of someone by the sound of their voice.
Was she young, or old perhaps?
I had absolutely no idea! No-one even looked up at me as I entered the café.
Maybe she wasn’t here yet?
Maybe she was running behind schedule?
Or maybe she was leading me astray because she thought that I was trying to pick her up?
I sat down at a vacant square wooden table, and tucked my bag under the chair. Before I had the chance to look up, I heard a soft worded ‘hi’, and saw her hand resting on the table.
‘Hi!’ I replied back as I looked up at her.
Her cornflower blue eyes sank into mine as she smiled at me. Her wavy mid-length brown hair framed her heart shaped faced perfectly, and my heart accelerated.
‘Amelia?’ I asked raising my eyebrows.
She nodded briefly.
‘Please sit. Would you like to join me for a tea or coffee?’ I asked, suddenly unsure of myself, and way out of character for me. I don’t do books, and I don’t do girls, or boys, for that matter!
‘Yes please, tea,’ she replied as she sat down.
Her voice sang to my soul and took my breath away. I had not expected such a reaction to her, to any girl in fact. I smiled coyly at her, and nodded before I rose from the table to place our order.
I returned to the table the long way through the cafe. I needed to watch her, to assess her character. She didn’t give much away. She sat with her back straight, and her hands clasped in front of as if she was in deep thought. She appeared gentle in spirit, and peaceful, her face giving out a positive vibe.
But what was she thinking right now? I needed to know.
I sat down opposite her and looked into her eyes briefly, and smiled before averting my eyes to the table. She made me feel so self-conscious.
Damn.
‘Thanks for meeting me to change hands with the book Eli,’ she said softly.
‘Glad to get it off my hands Amelia. It arrived in some mysterious circumstances that I still do not understand. And … I don’t do books. I’m not a book type of guy.’
She smiled at me and then looked at the table, stealing her beautiful blue eyes away from me.
Had I said something wrong?
What was she thinking? I wish I knew.
Girls are so hard to read—a closed book sometimes, so to speak.
Our cups of tea arrived then, with a teapot. Amelia took the liberty of pouring out the tea into our fancy white tea cups.
‘What is it that you do Eli?’ she asked, not looking at me until she finished pouring the tea.
I took a deep breath.
‘Oh you know, research, design, create, design, research. Nothing too exciting really.’
‘Really? Your eyes tell me a different story Eli,’ she stated in a curious voice.
I blinked at her and looked down and sipped my tea.
‘And what is it that you do Amelia?’
Tell me exactly what you do.
‘Research, design, create, design, research. Nothing too exciting really,’ she r
eplied, smiling at me.
She was playing games. Maybe she knew my motto.
‘What field are you in for your research?’ I asked inquisitively.
She shook her head. ‘I can’t say … and you?’
‘Same,’ I replied, looking deeply into her beautiful eyes, wishing at that moment that I could read into her mind.
‘Did you know Eli, that digitally, you don’t exist?’ she said matter of factly.
I placed my tea cup down before I spilt it, and stared at her, shocked.
‘I googled your name, searched data banks and profiles, and you don’t exist.’
I narrowed my eyes at her. Why on Earth would she be collecting data on me? Is there something wrong with her?
‘I like to keep a low profile,’ I replied trying to hide my complete and utter shock.
Mmm, interesting. CAI has eradicated my life details on digital data banks. What is their plan for me?
I looked away from Amelia to my left, and caught sight of a man staring at Amelia. He had short dark hair with side burns, dark eyes and a day old growth of facial hair. His chiselled face sat perfectly with his perfect nose. Uncannily, he looked very similar to me.
‘Is that your boyfriend over to your right, dark hair, dark eyes, staring at you?’ I asked, watching as Amelia followed my directions. Her eyes stopped searching when she had found the guy I was talking about.
She turned back to me and smiled, showing her dimples, lighting up her face, lighting up my heart, taking my breath away at the same time.
I looked away and inhaled sharply. Like books, I don’t do girls. They are way too complicated, unpredictable.
Her big blue eyes found mine when I looked back at her. She was still smiling as I sipped my tea.
‘No Eli. He’s not my type,’ she whispered, leaning in closer, enough so that I could smell her sweet perfume.
My heart sank a little. If he is not her type, then I am not her type. End of story.
Why was I hoping anyway? I don’t do girls.
I reached down and grabbed the stupid book out of my black leather bag and placed it carefully onto the wooden table, leaving my hand partly over the cover, and watched Amelia’s expression. I wanted to see her immediate reaction to the condition of her bloody book, after I had tossed it into the fire to burn.
Her eyes widened as they settled on the book, and her mouth opened in disbelief, letting out a small sigh. Nervousness engulfed my entire body as I wanted to sing my apologies to her for damaging her book.
As she reached for it, her hand lightly brushed against mine before she dragged the book towards herself, leaving a warm tingling path in its wake.
A small tear fell from her eye. She brushed it away quickly with the back of her hand.
I wanted to do that for her.
I wanted to touch her.
I wanted to apologise to her a thousand times over.
‘Eli…’ She choked back emotion.
My heart was heavy. ‘I … I’m sorry Amelia. I did tell you that I was going to feed it to the fire, and, I did give you a time limit, that you never adhered to—’ My voice trailed off in apology.
‘No Eli. It is in far better condition than when I lost it. Did you clean it up, reattach pages, polish the leather cover?’ she asked, full of wonder.
My mind was in a whirl as my heart started to beat rapidly. Better condition than when she lost it? It was in perfect condition when I set my eyes upon it beside my bed that morning.
‘You think?’ I questioned her, trying to hide the confusion on my face.
‘Yes, oh yes! And the writing is so clear now. I hope you didn’t read it!’ She looked up at me and blushed.
I stared at her face momentarily, and then I looked at the stupid book as she flicked through the pages. There was no writing in the book! Not a mark visible to the naked eye.
I was at a loss for words. Either Amelia is a fruit loop, or I have something terribly wrong with my vision.
Damn, I wished that I could read her mind. What was going on here?
I clasped my hands in front of my mouth and ran my finger over my bottom lip as I watched her while she went back and forth through the pages of the book, like a small child opening a long awaited birthday gift.
Finally, she closed the cover, and looked up at me. Her smile lit up the entire café, shining brightly into my heart and my soul. I was glad that I had my hands in front of my mouth, I didn’t want her to see the deep and sharp intake of breath that I took.
‘Thank-you Eli. You don’t know what this book means to me,’ she whispered, and a tear rolled down her cheek.
I reached over and wiped it away with my thumb, staring deeply into her beautiful eyes. Her skin was warm and soft, and I wanted to place my lips onto hers and kiss her tenderly.
But I don’t do girls I reminded myself as I took in a deep slow breath to control my urges.
It’s purely a primal urge for the survival of the human species I told myself.
‘I am glad that you wanted it back Amelia, and that it has found its rightful owner. I feel a ton of weight lifted off my shoulders now that it is in your hands,’ I answered softly to her, in response to her emotions.
I looked down at her hand on the book, and then to the table, and closed my eyes briefly, before I looked up into her eyes again.
‘I must go now. Things to do. Places to go. I wish you happy reading and happy memories with your book.’
I bent down to grab my leather bag.
‘But … but don’t you want to know what is in this book?’ Amelia asked, placing her hand over mine on the table.
I looked at her perfectly shaped hand and fingers draped over mine, and felt their warmth and magnetism reaching into my being.
Then I looked up into her face. She was waiting in anticipation of my answer.
Hope, that’s what it was.
She was hoping that I would stay a little longer to hear about her bloody book.
I raised my eyebrows and took a deep breath, trying to finding the right words before I spoke.
‘Thank-you, but no. I have no right to any of the information that you have in your book. I don’t know you, you don’t know me—heck—you couldn’t even locate any information about me over the net. Remember, I don’t exist,’ I said, trying to fob her off.
I wanted to stay for an eternity and look at her beautiful face and listen to her soul connecting voice. I wanted to take her in my arms and kiss her passionately, and make her mine forever—mentally, emotionally, physically as one.
She stared into my eyes for a moment before she looked down at the book in her hands. Disappointment was written all over her face and my heart pained for her.
‘Oh,’ she said softly as she slouched in her seat.
I wanted to say tell me all about it. We have a lifetime together because you are mine. But that was not the truth, and it never would be.
‘I’m sorry ...’ I muttered sincerely, and grabbed my bag and stood up, looking down at her saddened face.
She looked up at me before standing in front of me.
‘The least I can do is give you a thank-you hug Eli.’
She stepped towards me and wrapped her arms around my shoulders. In politeness I wrapped my arms around her back and held her gently.
She felt so deliciously good with her body pressed against mine. I closed my eyes and lowered my head down closer to her neck and into her apple scented hair, feeling my entire body come alive.
‘Thank-you,’ she whispered breathlessly into my ear. She released me from her hug, and stepped back from me. I looked into her eyes and smiled coyly at her.
‘You are welcome,’ I said gently before I turned to leave the café, the door bell announcing my departure.
~*~*~*~*~*~
Thank-you to my husband,
for your forever patience as I repeatedly enter
the world of creativity in writing, and the arts.
I love you and adore you. x
/>
~AB~
~ Many beautiful things
Cannot be seen or touched
They are felt within the heart.
What you have done for me
Is one of them ~
Thank-you to my three beautiful children who have always
listened to my crazy stories with a gentle and patient heart.
~ I remember perfectly the day that you were born,
when my heart overflowed with deep, endless,
unconditional love for you.
I will love you forever and a day. x
~AB~
~ And thank-you to my Creator,
For always carrying me through the storm.
Your Grace is sufficient for me ~
Forever Yours.
~AB~
Mortal Desire Page 22
