Could you do a something based on the pickup line, “screw me if I’m wrong, but haven’t we met before?” This just feels very Terry😂
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You took an odd job that summer.
And sometimes, an odd job you found listed online involved landing in an even odder environment, serving drinks and act as a catering server to these upper class LA types that liked to mingle with their cocktails under sunlit white banisters and balconies, attended to by an entourage of waiters uniformed like yourself, working diligently on the clock. Sometimes, an odd job also involved odd individuals. Preferably this one, the tallest and the best dressed man on the licitation fundraiser with a wisp of grey hair tied at the back everyone seemed to coo around, like so many satellites gravitate around a planet; someone who kept following you with his gaze all afternoon, a drink present on his hand when he wasn't idly twirling his Sapphire bejeweled pinkie ring finger that matched the sharpness of his gaze (Were you doing something wrong? Was your button up shirt crumpled?) --- it was usually impossible to accurately tell what color someone's eyes were from afar but in his case, they were undoubtedly and undeniably blue and scrutinizing, making the hairs stand up on the edge of your spine. You needed this gig so you didn't want to mess up anything with assumptions or the impropriety of staring back. Yet, you swore you saw him before, looming over the city. Maybe on a billboard somewhere? Possible. Everyone here was a bigshot. You brush away the thought, neglecting your discomfort and reminding yourself that this was only temporary. A quick, honest buck, and that you'll, hopefully, by next month, be working on something else entirely and you'll never see this crowd again. A graceful finger from said man gestures towards you through the crowd and you already knew what it mean. Drinks.
You approach with a polished Martini tray and make your offering.
He smiles at you and for a moment, something halts in you.
It's one of those smiles you see on commercials.
A smile everyone wants to be smiled at with.
-“Screw me if I’m wrong, but haven’t we met before?”-
Wait, what?
He speaks with a gruff, deep charming voice, full body shifting your direction and you immediately know the answer was clearly 'no'. Where would you even met him? Someone like him, specifically? Where would he meet you? Who was he, exactly? Did he mistake you for someone else? Was he messing with you? Fraternizing at work wasn't allowed even though people you attended to might occasionally be chatty so you simply shrugged with a smile of your own, face deliberately downcast as he helped himself to a glass of liquor, holding your eyes with his, something about his shoulders shrugging with delight. What was going on? Was he coming unto you? Well, creeps at work weren't a new thing and sometimes these people wanted to try the hot new waiter or waitress on the side trying to make a living, but --- no, this was something else. His eyes don't blink and yet his smile is wide. Heated. Looking through you and momentarily you have to mentally pinch yourself, coaxing yourself back with a reminder that you were surrounded by an open backyard foyer full of people and that the courtyard wasn't in fact entirely dark with you suddenly alone in it. You were here and now, mid-shift. -"Because I never forget a face."- He adds with a tone profoundly electrified with quiet conviction and you don't even know what to say next to that, lump caught in your throat when you realize just how tall he really is. An older man, for sure, but stupendously well kept. You scurry off the minute someone else calls for a Martini and you swear you feel his expression instantly shifts on its axis, going from kind to agitated, like an on and off switch, brooding towards the patron you were attending, borderline offended at the caller. Was he angry and why did you give a damn?
After the baffling day, at home, the buzzing of a text wakes you from a nap.
Your manager, commending your excellent work performance.
As singled out and remarked upon by one T.S.
'He wants you take up part time at another fundraiser he'll attend on the fourth. Your contract will be waiting for you on the desk in the morning. It is an excellent opportunity. You don't need to hand in another CV.' --- The debrief message says.
You lay there on your bed, with your phone, lost, feeling those eyes on you.
On the ceilings, on the walls, on your sheets.
