Disaster's Aid

I scratch at the chipped wood of my computer table. A piece flies off and hits the bottom of my grey chair. I stretch and feel the chair lean back and align to my back.

Probably ergonomically designed. Unlike this table.

Today's been rather slow after 11, and since I usually take my lunch at 1 I have another hour to go.

Not that I don't have stuff to do, I just finished it. Jess's been busy arranging the logistics for a new order and will only need me "later."

So in the meantime I've started making a presentation on Ergonomics and Safety to present, if I ever get the chance. Jess told me that my presentation would probably be a great initiative and that I should finish it and have it ready for her to edit when I have free time.

I add in the final transitions into my PowerPoint and embed a YouTube video about sitting comfortably at your workstation. I also throw in a picture of an ergonomic table. Hopefully they'll be inspired to replace some old furniture. They've started with the chairs and tables in the executive offices and some meeting rooms. So that's a start.

I stretch my arms and stand up. The large marble foyer in front of me gleams and I hear taps across the polished stone. I turn.

"Hey Sara, do you mind staying at your desk for lunch?"

"What's up Jess?"

"So we have someone from the furniture company bringing in a shipment of tables and I really need you to sign for it and get the movers to take them to the meeting rooms on the fifth floor."

"Sure Jess."

"Thanks Sara. Also, don't worry I got us a new set of tables too. Twinsies!" I grin at Jess and she laughs.

"Okay, I'll be heading out with Yousef for lunch."

"Um, okay."

"See you later Sara, and if you get hungry I have some granola bars in that drawer."

I finish off my presentation and email Jess the slides.

I roll over to her desk on my chair and pull out a chocolate granola bar. Masha Allah these chairs are fantastic.

I swivel myself back to my desk and spin around.

"Excuse me, Ma'am?" A melodic British accent gains my attention.

"Yes?" I say as I turn slowly to stare at the paper he has on the reception counter.

I feel my face flush. I drop the granola bar on my desk.

"Can you sign this?" He says. I can hear the smile in his voice.

I pretend to glance up at him, but just stare at the suit jacket and platinum cuff links peaking out of his sleeve. Fan. C.

I sign the paper and focus on the loops of the A's in my name.

"I doubt that anyone has ever told you this, but you look gorgeous when you're nervous."

Was this guy for real? I turn my gaze up towards him. Feeling the laser heating behind my eyes.

"You know what-" I gasp.

With his elbows leaning on the table and his fists bunched and resting under his chin Tariq is staring at me with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Don't you like my accent Madame?"

I stand and jump into his arms. He lifts me over the counter and settles me on the ground.

I start to laugh.

"You are such a flirt!" He looks into my accusing eyes and shrugs. His grin outlining a faint dimple in his cheek.

"Only with you." He kisses my forehead.

Only with me.

I poke the dimple.

"I never really noticed this before." I say looking up at him.

"What?"

"It's a dimple Tariq, that means your mother-in- law loves you."

"Hmm, well actually according to cultural superstition I think it means my mother-in-law loves me more than her child."

I scoff. Mama loves me.

"Hey Mama's boy, why didn't you tell me you were coming?"

"Surprise! I'm here." Tariq pulls his hand to my shoulder and spins me around once.

"Hey!"

"Good thing I came right now, some other man might've seen my wife looking too cute."

"Oh really? And what gave you the idea of pretending to be British anyways?"

Tariq shrugs.

"Just excited to see you."

"Are Mama and Abou home too?"

"Oh Sara how I wish! They are planning the wedding to the last minute. When I told them we were moving to Canada they changed their whole colour scheme and blamed me for not telling them sooner. They even made me choose your wedding suit, which I was going to do. But then they made me choose all of your other thirty five suits too."

"Thirty five? For one day?" My breathing gets faint.

"No Sharu, just as a gift from my family to you."

"Oh, thank you." I put my hand to my heart.

"Problem not." Tariq bobbles his head from side to side in an Asian head nod.

"Oh gosh, I married a fob." I lean my head against Tariq's shoulder and he laughs.

"Ahem. Ahem. Cough. Cough." Jess shrills from beside us.

I pull myself out of Tariq's arms and rush to my seat.

"Whoa, calm down girl."

I giggle nervously and Tariq adjusts his jacket. I guess we both didn't realize how public this space was.

"Hello, I'm here to deliver the new tables." Tariq states. His cheeks are lightly pink.

"Oh...the tables? Just the tables then?" Yousef says standing beside Jess.

"Yeah, he brought the tables, wait Tariq, why did you bring the tables?" I glance at Tariq.

"Don't you know what your husband does for a living? I'm the owner of PK Furniture."

My lips form an O.

Jess laughs and Yousef looks around the empty foyer.

I'll just be quiet now.

Tariq pulls out his ringing phone.

"Yeah, I got the signature James, just come in and get the logistics. No, no, by all means. Thank you as well. Okay Bye."

Tariq drops the Blackberry 10 into his sleek suit jacket pocket.

"Alright the tables should be coming in. And if you don't mind I'll be taking Sara for lunch."

"Uh, okay." Yousef looks speechless for once in his life and Jess nudges him.

"I'll see you later Sara." Jess skips to her desk and waves to Yousef.

"Bye Yousef, bye Jess!" I call.

Tariq strides around my desk and pulls me past the foyer to outside. He opens the door of a black Lincoln MKT and starts the car. I pull my seat belt on.

"Good idea, I just got the Eco-Boost." Tariq grins and speeds towards the highway.

Wait. When did he get his licence?

Oh Allah, this guy drives fast.

I watch the cement streets cruise by and my thoughts sway across the high rise buildings and swish past the waves as we cross the bridge and swarm around my heart as I smile at my over-dramatic husband.

I guess that's why it's called Soul Mates.