Paparazzi

Daphne was a predator in Prada, bathed in the latest Brittney Spears scent. She leaves behind a trail of destruction and a sweet smell, so sweet that after a while, it’s not so sweet at all – it makes you want to hurl a bit. Position wise, Daphne and I were equal. We practically sat at the bottom of the FLASH food chain, a step above the nameless attendants who cleaned up after closing and security personnel. We weren’t so low that other ‘higher ups’ didn’t stop by to chat – but usually it was the odd guy or two who wanted to catch a drink after work, and never any other secretary types. Despite this, we were what clients first saw when they entered FLASH, and in Hollywood, first appearances matter. Daphne told me that they only hired the best faces for front desk, and I didn’t know whether to feel flattered or outraged. Still, even though we had identical positions and salaries, she thought she was better because she’d worked for FLASH two years prior. She would never actually say it to my face, but that was the general gist of the reason why she disliked me. She also didn’t like me because of the… well, ‘unorthodox’ way I’d been hired. Matt Salmon, head editor at FLASH had personally offered me a job, which I took on the spot. When I’d rocked up for my first day, expecting to be friends with the slinky brunette smiling behind the desk, I was sorely disappointed. She was actually nice for a couple moments – which leads me to believe that she does, infact, have a heart, but that was before I told her how I landed my job, and she went absolutely livid. Afterwards, she made it her goal to annoy me in any way possible.

Come to think of it, maybe she’d been drenching herself in perfume just to annoy me?

I laughed to myself as I thought about that, crinkling my nose at the burning effect it had on my nostrils. Daphne was muttering to herself, which was not unusual after a round of verbal boxing with me – and that was probably why guys hesitated to ask her out, since it made her seem a little on the psychotic side; I’d heard some girls in the bathroom calling her the ‘front desk bitch’ or FDB for short one time, and I didn’t waste time introducing it to my vocabulary. She’d opened a can of whoopass when I arrived half an hour late, but business was usually slow around nine in the morning, on account of everyone else being stuck in traffic, or still sleeping in. Just as we were prepping our desks for the day’s work, Matt Salmon breezed on into the building, a customary large caramel latte glued to his hand.

“Morning, Posh!” His rushed entrance slowed as he hesitated to remember Daphne’s name. I could feel her tensing beside me as the silence passed, and Matt was tittering about with possibilities running loose within his balding head. ‘Daphne’, I mouthed, with wide eyes, and he’d cheerfully said, “Good morning Stephanie!” before resuming his rush to get to his office upstairs.

Daphne was scowling at the front door for quite some time. Even though she thought I was her mortal enemy, I still wanted to say something to comfort her. Partly because I hated silence, and partly because I thought it would make her snap out of her creepy-scowling trance.

“Ugh, I hate it when people call me Posh,” I said with complete disgust, even though I only really mildly tolerated it. My hippy parents had named me Posie, yet the nickname ‘Posh’ had stuck to me the minute Matt proposed it – and it spread around the office like wildfire. Suddenly I was ‘Posh’, the new girl down at the front desk, and most who greeted me did it for the sake of calling me ‘Posh’. They thought it was so cool. I’d learnt to answer to that name now, and the only person who called me Posie was Tyler (and that was only when he was being serious – which is a rare occasion).

Daphne didn’t move a muscle, though her hazel eyes seemed to bug out a little at the sound of my voice. I sighed when I took another glance at her frozen body, shuffling around papers to distract myself from how much she was creeping me out. I expected her to explode, keeping my ears open for a soft ticking noise coming from within her, but after the phone rang, she threw herself completely into her work and never once turned to me to utter a word. After that, people began zipping in and out of the building, the influx only slowing down once all the offices had filled, leaving clients and visitors the only other entrants to the building.

One such entrant made my heart skip a beat when he stepped through the sliding doors to cross the lobby. He smiled crookedly as he made a beeline toward my end of the reception desk, and I returned his smile with just as much brightness, if not more. “Heading upstairs?” I ask him, with my hand already on the phone to inform the ‘higher ups’. Nate shakes his head, and some of his sandy blonde hair falls in front of his face. It wasn’t fair, the way I’d pick up on the smallest of his details, and my heart would suddenly begin to rumba, as if I were reliving a high school crush all over again.

I am a grown woman, I tell myself sternly, despite the fact that my knees were beginning to quiver. I just wanted to carelessly throw myself onto him.

His blue-green eyes are still smiling when he speaks to me, and when I finally quell my raging hormones, I tune in just in time to hear him say “I came to take you out for your lunch break.”

I risked a glance at Daphne. She seemed to be ignoring me, but I knew full well she was listening – and she didn’t like what she was hearing. On occasion, I was known to take up the odd offer of an after work drink when I first came to town. When Nate, a publicist from upstairs, asked me out for more than a drink, I’d been reluctant to admit to anyone at work that we were seeing each other. Although it wasn’t really official, everyone knew, and the only person who seemed to mind was Daphne. Since I had to work with her all day, I decided it was best that Nate and I kept it low-key, especially infront of her.

“Well, sure, if that’s okay with Daphne.” We both looked at her, Nate looking expectant, and me expecting her to say no. Since we couldn’t leave the desk completely unattended, only one of us could take their lunchbreak at a time. It wasn’t my turn to go first today, but she’d only come back from a smoke break ten minutes ago, and I had to take her calls while she was gone as well as my own. I’d been hoping I could pull against that to get her to return a favour.

“Whatever,” She flicked her hand carelessly, “just don’t be late coming back.”

“We won’t,” Nate answered, giving her one of his movie-star smiles. If he wasn’t already a publicist, I would say he would need one himself – he looked like he should be the one gracing FLASH’s gossip columns. Nate was tall and blonde and had a wicked smile that would melt any functioning woman’s heart. He’d lived in Hollywood for five years, and before that he’d lived in Sydney for quite a while. Although he was pure American, his phrasing was a little off, and there was just a hint of otherness to his usual pronunciation.

I picked up my bag from under the desk, and slipped my feet back into my shoes (try wearing black platform pumps for a whole week, and you’ll know why I’d rather keep barefoot underneath the desk) before I went to join Nate. His car was parked out by the front, and pretty soon we were zooming off down the street. He took a moment to slip on a pair of aviators, and fiddle with the radio station, when we’d come to a complete stop at a red light. He turned to look at me.

“And how are we doing today, beautiful?” He inquired, and I all but gushed about my day so far. Nate was a good listener, and no matter how monotonous my job was, I always looked forward to telling him about my day even though I probably bored his ears off.

“Is it your day off?” I ask, once I’d finished ranting about the FDB. He always laughed when I called her that.

“Not exactly,” he said, and the car was coming to a stop. He parked and hopped out to run over to my side of the car and open my door. “I’ve got a late start,” He explained, “I only have to show my face for a couple hours at an event...”

I’d straightened myself up, and smiled up at him to find that his eyes were looking at me appreciatively, and his voice had dropped off completely. I was all too pleased at the effect my outfit had on him, it took me a while to put together – and I admit, it was one of the reasons why I was late, but the look he was giving me made up for the earful Daphne had given me earlier on. I was happy to know that attraction was a two-way thing between us.

“I am so very tempted to just ditch it and...” He trailed off, as we made our way to the deli cafe a couple stores down.

“To?” I ask, very demurely. I felt tall in my pumps, and when I’d looked up at him again, I had barely reached his chin.

But, we were interrupted by the sharp, impatient noise that came from the woman standing behind the deli counter. Nate smiled at her, and instantly, she melted. That was his effect, I had come to learn – and tolerate, since so many women found him so irresistible. I had to keep reminding myself that he was as good as mine, even though we hadn’t made anything official. A couple of exclusive dates, and a lunch date, had to make up for something, right?

“Anyway,” he continued, when we’d had our food and had settled onto a table to dine alfresco. “I came by, because I had to tell you something...”

My heart fluttered, thudded, died, then kicked back into life at an alarming pace. So very few words had managed to pull me through so many reactions. What did he want to say? It didn’t seem at all important, or urgent, because he had paused to take a bite out of his sandwich, and was taking his sweet time with chewing. Ugh.

So many thoughts were popping up and slamming into each other. Maybe he wanted to make ‘us’ official? I mean, he’d stayed the night a couple times, but we found it awkward with having Tyler under the same roof. And we’d been doing a lot more staying in, than going out, which only means we’re moving further into a proper relationship. I just hope he wouldn’t say anything else. My heart died again.

No.

I was sending myself into an unnecessary panic. I wasn’t exactly the best at hiding my emotions, either. Nate was watching me with a question in his eyes, and I slid my own down to my bottle of peach tea, unscrewed the cap and wet my drying mouth.

“You’re being... strange,” He pointed out, “What’s on your mind?”

“A lot,” I admit, smiling a weak smile. His eyes lingered on me, but when I made no effort to elaborate, he shrugged and leaned back into his chair. “What were you going to tell me, again?”

Nate began to open his mouth, and instead of hearing him speak, I hear the shrill beeping of my cellphone. He shut his mouth in an instant, and gestured for me to answer it. Scowling, I snap open the phone, seeing that it’s Daphne who’s called. My scowl only seeps into my voice.

“Yes?”

“Posie,” Daphne said. I could hear the strain in her voice that indicated she was as much irritated calling me, as I was having to answer her phone in a completely important situation. “You have to get yourself down here-“

I glanced at my wristwatch and sighed impatiently, “look, Daphne. We get a twenty five minute break, and I’ve only been gone ten minutes. If you’re going to ask me to come back early, you’re out of your wits.”

For a while, Daphne didn’t speak. I kept expecting her to slam the phone down, but she remained on the line. All I could hear was her deep breathing, like she was trying to calm herself. “Mr Salmon,” She began, in a thin voice, which was on the verge of cracking into a higher pitch of hysteria, “called down to ask if you could visit his office soon.”

Then she slammed the phone down.

I let out a frustrated breath and glanced back at Nate. “I’m sorry, but I have to get back. Matt Salmon called me up to his office.”

Nate’s eyebrows knitted together, “Matt? What would he want with you?”

Some would find his last comment offensive, but I knew he didn’t mean it to be that way in the slightest. He knew how the office worked, and he knew that Matt Salmon extending an invitation to his office to a front desk receptionist was not a common thing. The only involvement I had with him was with his clients, who I would buzz on up to his office. That was as far as it went, for me.

“I have no idea,” I bit the inside of my cheek as we picked up our stuff to get back into the car. I didn’t even break the wax paper on my sandwich. I would have to eat later, at the desk when I would come back from Matt Salmon’s office.

“I guess you should go find out, then.”