Feet back on the pavement to the basement
On the bright side of the road
Fumbling my lines to a lazy cat
On the step outside her door
She opens up, and I'm in the Polaroid
Standing next to her
The princess and the passenger
~Secret Smile; Rascal Flatts.
It was foolish to even consider it, he thought. The taxi drew to a stop, and he wrung his hands together, staring at the long wrought iron barrier that separated him from the young woman he had met only just the other day.
It had all begun so innocently. He had been hailing a taxi on the busy city streets like he did every morning on the way from his apartment to the office. It was a luxury he could afford on his handsome salary, and although the cross town journey took only fifteen minutes by taxi the walk would have taken him at least thirty. Even he knew that he was in no fit state for that.
He, Buster Lightyear, more commonly referred to as Buzz by his colleagues and friends alike, was pretty well off otherwise. Aside from his salary, the taxis he frequently took, and his well built stature, he was what he would class – without being vain – as fairly good looking. But he was lonely, and between work and his home, he rarely had the time to even attempt to find his soulmate.
There was no thought further to this by the young man, for at that moment a taxi pulled in beside him. Buzz opened the taxi door - as he usually did every morning – and leaned in, about to speak to the driver. He merely got his head in the door when the opposite back door was flung open and a petite woman flopped down on the upholstered seat inside. He was momentarily taken aback by the deft movement.
"Excuse me but I think I hailed this taxi…." Buzz stated to the stranger sitting in what should have been his place in the backseat.
She turned and gave him a look – and to his surprise, rather than meeting an angry stare of a self involved person, he was caught in the gaze of a beseeching, vulnerable young girl.
"But I'm late for work." She wheedled.
"So am I! I'm still getting this taxi. I did flag it down, after all." He said firmly and climbed in beside her. She huffed softly, moving along the seat and pressing herself to the inside of the other door.
"I suppose we can share," her voice was small again now as she relegated herself to the only option open to her.
"Fine by me." He retorted, and once again made another attempt to talk to the driver - but she cut in over him.
"16th West Street on the corner of Maple Avenue please."
The driver, having turned around to see what the commotion was in the back of his taxi, gave a relieved curt nod and started off.
Buzz made no sound. He turned to the woman, taking her in properly. She was a redhead, smaller than he had first noticed. She had by now begun to do her makeup in a small compact she had fished from her bag.
"How did you know where my office is?" Buzz asked, curiosity getting the better of him.
"Your office?" The redhead snapped the compact shut, having finished applying a layer of blusher to her pale cheeks. "My office, more like."
"You work for Skyline too?" 'That had to be some coincidence', Buzz thought to himself.
"Don't be ridiculous. I work for Hirschhauser, across the street." She retorted.
Buzz fell silent again at her snappy tone. He loosened his tie, his shirt felt tight, and he needed to breathe. Next to him his companion rummaged in her bag once more before starting to apply a thin coat of lip-gloss. He wrung his hands, having settled his briefcase on the floor at his feet. He half watched her out of the corner of his eye as she carried on as if he wasn't even there.
He felt like he was beneath her suddenly – like she was a princess. And he was merely just a passenger. He couldn't shake the feeling – but oddly he liked it.
Buzz's feet hit the pavement now, as he climbed from the taxi. It pulled away as he scouted out the number he needed - 113A. He located it finally, a few steps away. The basement flat of the nearest large sub-divided house.
He picked his way through the wrought iron gate and down the narrow winding stone steps. He was now confronted with three things – firstly, the hanging basket with miniature cacti planted in it, which he had to duck to avoid smacking his head on as he reached the bottom of the steps. The second was the maroon coloured front door, complete with a shiny letterbox and brass knocker. The third was at a lower level – that of the orange tabby sleeping peacefully on the doorstep.
It was bright down there in the stairwell. Or maybe that was just the heat he could feel rising up his neck. There were a few beads of sweat on his forehead, and he wiped them away. He forced himself to focus on the words he needed to say.
"Hi. I don't know if you…" He stopped, as the cat on the doorstep below fidgeted in its sleep. Buzz exhaled, and tried again.
"Hello. Remember me?" He stopped again, shaking his head, as the cat flicked its tail lazily in the half light of the early evening.
"Hi there." That was better. More relaxed. "I happened to find this…umm…." He stopped once more, noticing the tabby cat giving him a look.
Buzz cleared his throat once, then once again. Why was he standing here practically having a conversation with the cat? He should just bite the bullet and get on with it - and then run as fast as humanly possible in the opposite direction.
As he raised his hand to knock, the door moved. For a moment he thought he was having a hallucination. Or maybe a stroke. Or perhaps some kind of weird door moving seizure.
But it was none of the previous options. The door had just been opened and there she was. All his previous rehearsed words died in his throat. He was momentarily aware of the ginger cat stretching just out of his immediate eye line.
"Oh! Hello." She used one of the words he had been scrambling to locate in the recess of his brain. "I thought I heard someone out here." She smiled prettily at him, and he was lost.
"Hello." He faltered for another second before repeating her choice of word back to her. There was another silence momentarily, before she noticed something.
"Is that…?" she pointed to the item he had forgotten he was holding. The entire reason he was there at all. Well, that was his excuse anyway.
"Yes," He murmured, holding it out to her.
She smiled slightly, extending her hand also to take it from him. Whether it was on purpose or accidental - he couldn't tell for sure - their fingers brushed. He glanced up for a half second and their eyes locked. She met his gaze, their touch only hindered by the object they passed between them.
She was still doing her make up, he noticed. The car jerked to a stop as they reached their destination and her bag slipped off the seat besides her, the contents flying everywhere.
"Oh, leaping lizards!" She drawled, leaning forwards to retrieve the spilled items. Buzz watched her for a moment as she fiddled, grabbing piece after piece and stuffing them back into the large tote she carried.
"Here, let me get this," he offered, not waiting for a response and paying the impatient taxi driver with a generous wad of notes.
"We're here?!" She had only just noticed; her voice betrayed her. In the next moment she opened the door and it shut as she pushed it closed from outside. Another second passed before she reopened the door and stuck her head back in.
"Thank you," she exclaimed breathlessly to Buzz, before the door shut once more, and then she was off across the street and into the tower block opposite.
He'd noticed it only as he was about to climb out. His hand had landed on the slim, leather bound book, and he picked it up, giving it a cursive glance. It certainly wasn't his; it must be hers, he deduced, as he tucked it into his pocket. He would have to see about returning it to her somehow.
At the mere thought, his heart leapt in his chest and he all but stopped himself from punching the air. He had spent a few minutes with a beautiful young woman he didn't even know the name of. It must be lack of coffee talking. He had to get to the office and have a mug of it, pronto.
Preferably double strength.
"You dropped it in the taxi." He uttered, his shyness compounding him enough to keep the sentence simple.
"Thank you." The words tripped lightly off her tongue, as they had done on the last moment of their first meeting. "I would have been lost without this."
"Your address was in the back." He pointed out.
She nodded.
"And your diary was in the front."
She nodded again.
"I thought you might not want to miss that important appointment tomorrow."
Her brow furrowed. "Appointment?"
"Yeah. Well…I should be going. But it was nice to see you…again." He turned, rather against his will, and started up the stone stairs to street level once more, leaving her to stare after him.
At his desk, Buzz plonked himself down in his swivel chair, placed the coffee mug on the coaster next to the keyboard, and fired up the computer. He carefully took off his suit jacket and put it over the back of his chair. From the inside pocket he fished the leather bound book, laying it on the surface in front of him as he sat down.
He drummed his fingers on the desk a few times, debating what to do. Look for an address? Scan her appointments? Fish through for juicy details?
He decided to look for the address at last, as tempting as the other two options were. He clicked open the press stud fastening on the book and opened it. Inside, he found three sections – one was a notepad with scribblings that he chose to ignore for the moment, the second was a diary with all kinds of appointments, and the third was the address section.
Quickly, he thumbed to the address section, and to his joy, found exactly what he was looking for.
She didn't have the faintest what he had been on about, so while she was still standing at the door, and he was in her immediate view, she decided to look for a clue.
Flicking open the little black organiser, she searched for the page relevant to that week, and scanned for the next days appointments. Her eyes landed on the relevant section, and unfamiliar handwriting forced her eyes to read further.
"Dinner with Buzz. 7.30pm. Will pick you up. No taxi required."
A little smile spread over her features as she looked up towards the top of the steps, but he was already gone.
Buzz kept walking, one foot in front of the other. He allowed a little smile to prick the corners of his mouth. He had a potential date the following night with Jessica Pride. He'd read her name in the contact details section of the little leather bound book, together with her address.
With some kind of trepidation, he hoped he'd see her again tomorrow morning as well on the way to work. He needed to find out where she wanted to go to dinner, after all.