Butterfly (37 page)

“My name is Susan, and I'm the assistant supervisor here in the office. If there's anything you need, just let me know.”

“Thanks.”

“Not a problem,” Susan said, walking out of the break room.

I sat twiddling my thumbs for a while when Darsha, Valerie, Lisa and Alicia walked in. They were in full gossip mode. When they saw me sitting at the table they stopped talking and looked at me.

“Do you work here?” Lisa asked.

“Yes. Today is my first day.”

“I'm Alicia. Hi.”

“Hi, Alicia,” I spoke.

Alicia was a very attractive light-skinned woman with a perfect thirty-six-twenty-four-thirty-six frame. Maybe even better! She had long golden hair that was pinned up. Her eyes were big and light brown, very welcoming. She was definitely in the wrong business.
There was some modeling agency missing a star! It was all I could do to keep from asking her to marry me on the spot. For the life of me, I could not figure out her nationality. Black, Hispanic, biracial, I couldn't pin it down.

“Hi, my name is Valerie.”

“Hi, Valerie, I'm Michael.”

Valerie was quite tall with long legs, a nice round butt, slim waist and nice pert breasts. Her hair was about shoulder-length and curled underneath. She had a nice dark-brown complexion. She was quite attractive. She was dressed in a man's suit, which looked very neat on her and business-like. She probably had men lining up to date her.

“Hey, what's up? I'm Darsha.”

“Hey, Darsha, I'm Michael.”

Darsha was about twenty-two or twenty-three years old. Judging by her attire I could tell she was an active member of the hip-hop culture. That made me wonder what kind of business would hire such a young, inexperienced person. I would find out later that she was very mature and responsible for her age, probably more than I. She was fair-skinned, slim with slender hips, strange-looking eyes, and humorous.

“Hi, I'm last, but definitely not least. I'm Lisa. How are you?”

Lisa was what we black people call high-yellow, light-skinned, with short hair, broad shoulders, and broad hips. She was gentle and soft-spoken.

“I'm fine, Lisa. I'm Michael Forrester.”

“Who's training you?” Lisa asked.

“I think Tazzy said it was someone named Cynthia.”

“Okay, good to meet you,” Lisa said. “Later, Michael.”

“Uh, later,” I said.

They cleared the break room and then Wanda and Pam walked in.

“Hey, man, you the new dude?” Wanda said, without even looking at me.

Wanda was tough-looking, with a tough voice. She had big bulging eyes, a deep voice, and a presence, which demanded respect, or she'd kick your ass. She was about five feet six inches tall, a little husky, with a delightfully friendly smile.

“Yes, I'm the new dude.”

“I'm Wanda. And that's Pam,” Wanda said, pointing at Pam.

“Wanda, I don't need you to introduce me,” Pam said. “I'm Pam, how are you?”

Pam was an attractive woman with an athletic build, dark-brown, smooth skin. Nice muscular legs. A protruding round buttock that extended from her body at least twelve inches. Her hair was cut perfectly to match the sculpture of her face.

“I'm just fine. Good to meet you.”

Pam and Wanda walked out together. I played with the salt and pepper shakers until Cynthia finally came to get me.

“Michael?” Cynthia asked, as she peeked her head through the door.

Cynthia was short, about five feet three inches tall. She was pretty, but in a homely type of way. She wore a long skirt that had to be handed down by her grandmother's grandmother. It revealed no form of human shape within its wrapping. She wore big glasses that she looked over, instead of through. But despite her outward appearance, she was warm and inviting. Upon our first introduction I had a feeling that I knew her from somewhere, but I couldn't quite place her.

“Yup, that's me.”

“Let's go, man. You got a date with a computer.”

I stood up and followed Cynthia back to my desk, passing everyone else in the office along the way. As I got closer to my desk, I saw Alicia's beautiful face. Her desk faced directly in front of mine. I smiled at the thought of having her picture-perfect view from the time I came in the door, until I clocked out to go home. Maybe my life of recent mishaps was taking a turn for the better. Once again, I reminded myself that no matter how attracted I became to any of the women in the office, I would maintain my objective and keep the project of researching first and foremost. As I sat down, I noticed there was also a vacant desk on my right. I found out later that my neighbor was out sick.

Before Cynthia and I could get started on our training session, Tazzy called a meeting and we all gathered in the center of the office.

“Good morning, everybody,” Tazzy spoke.

“Good morning,” the office girls spoke in unison.

“Is Tina here yet?” Tazzy said, looking around for her.

“Not yet,” voices scattered.

“Well, it's going to be a quick meeting. I'll get the small things out of the way. Can everyone please stay away from the thermostat? I've been noticing the temperature is much lower than where I set it. Secondly, when you go into the bathroom, please, please clean up after yourselves. I cannot stress that enough, especially when Mother Nature is calling. No one wants to walk into a bathroom and be greeted with someone else's tampon or what have you. So please, clean up after yourselves, okay? Now, back to business, we really have to stay focused and stay on task. We have to get our volume of claims down. So please, if you must talk, keep it to a minimum and try not to disturb your neighbor. That's it. Any questions?”

“Can you speak up? I can barely hear you,” Pam said.

“You need to quit, Pam. You know you can hear that girl,” Valerie said, whispering so that Tazzy couldn't hear.

“I said please keep talking to a minimum. Clean up behind yourself. Stay away from the thermostat. And let's try to work on getting our claims down. Did you get it that time, Pam?” Tazzy said, raising her voice.

“Some of it,” Pam mumbled, rolling her eyes.

“I'm sure your neighbor will let you in on whatever you missed.”

The girls in the office were beginning to disperse when Tazzy stopped them. “Oh, I almost forgot. I'd like to welcome our newest employee, Michael Forrester,” Tazzy said, pointing at me. “Please do your best to make Michael feel as comfortable as possible. Have a nice day, people!”

I waved to the girls to acknowledge Tazzy's announcement, then we went back to our desks. Cynthia and I sat down together at my desk to begin my training. As she started to speak, that irrepressible familiar feeling resurfaced.

“Excuse me, Cynthia,” I said. “Do I know you from somewhere?”

“I don't think so,” Cynthia said with a smile.

“You seem so familiar to me. What's your full name?”

“Cynthia B. Childs.”

“What does the ‘B' stand for?”

“It stands for ‘B' as in B-quiet.”

“Are you ashamed of your name?”

“I'm not ashamed. I just don't know want anybody to know what it is.” Cynthia laughed. “It is coun-tree.”

“You look so familiar to me.”

“Everybody tells me I have that kind of face.”

“Yeah, maybe that's it!”

Cynthia trained me for that first week and I kept my conversations confined to her ears only. On Wednesday she gave me a list of telephone numbers of the women in the office. Strangely, the list consisted of both work and personal contact numbers. She told me both numbers were listed because during the winter hours they would call each other to make sure each of them made it to their cars safely. Although Upskon was a huge building that employed over five hundred people, the security was a joke. It was common knowledge that security seemed to show up after someone was robbed, stabbed or raped.

The following week, Wanda, Pam, Lisa and I were sitting in the break room for lunch and a conversation sprang up on the radio about men being intimidated by successful women. I sat and listened as they ranted their opinions.

“That's the problem with men nowadays. Every time a woman makes more money than them, they can't take it!” Wanda shouted.

“I know,” Pam agreed. “It's hard for me to get a date because I have my own car, my own house, and my own money. Men don't know how to deal with a woman like me.”

As I tried to ignore them, I thought to myself,
perhaps men don't want to deal with a woman like you, not because you have a car, a house, or your own money. Maybe, just maybe, it's because you have a rotten-ass attitude that a man can't stand to be around...

A
LSO BY
S
YLVESTER
S
TEPHENS

The Nature of a Man

The Nature of a Woman

The Office Girls

Our Time Has Come

Strebor Books P.O.

Box 6505

Largo, MD 20792

http://www.streborbooks.com
www.SimonandSchuster.com

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

© 2013 by Sylvester Stephens

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means whatsoever. For information address Strebor Books, P.O. Box 6505, Largo, MD 20792.

ISBN 978-1-59309-447-8

ISBN 978-1-4516-8647-0 (ebook)

LCCN 2012933945

First Strebor Books trade paperback edition January 2013

Cover design:
www.mariondesigns.com

Cover photograph: © Keith Saunders/Marion Designs

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