Lost (3 page)

Peter
 

   That’s what Peter’s note said with a phone number at the bottom.  And I'm not going to lie,
what the hell
bounced around my head instantly.  Share a journal together? 
Seriously?

  After reading the weird note, sadly, the beautiful picture was forgotten, and the calligraphy turned into scribble before my eyes.  I was totally out of my element with the strange man known only as Peter.
  All I wanted to do in that moment was call Terry and ask why he gave me the strange look when Peter handed me the notebook.  I wanted to know if Peter had done this before with another employee, and I wanted to know what the hell he was up to.  I really didn't understand Peter's intentions, so I needed help from Terry understanding Peter because I was totally confused and that was a feeling that made me very uncomfortable.
  At one point though I almost started laughing when I grabbed a pen from my purse, flipped the page, entered the time and date and wrote:
Peter- You are a freak show!!!
  I remember thinking Peter was acting like those creepy guys in a few novels I had read.  Stalkers and possessive assholes, and strangely about the women who find it sweet and amazing when they are loved so hard. 

  In real life when a man acts like a possessive asshole, or like a stalker, we run- and maybe even get a restraining order while we're at it.  Those men scared the hell out of me because they were not normal, nor easily understood.  They were not men I understood how to love so I could easily leave when I realized they were not in my plans.  And that was how I felt about Peter. 

  From the giddy, butterfly feeling I had looking at my name and the beautiful charcoal drawing he had made of me, to an absolute inability to understand his intentions moments later from his weird note; I was shocked and weirded out. 

  The notebook suddenly held all the fascination of a game of Russian roulette for me.  So I decided after that intense moment to put Peter out of my mind, and I decided to focus on the coming days and on the new forever career that was waiting for me.
 

CHAPTER 4

  On Monday morning I arrived at my new job early, and though I was excited to be there, I kept it together.  I showed total restraint and professionalism, though admittedly I was nervous as hell and feeling a little overwhelmed.  However, once I was lead to my new office by the receptionist, I calmed down significantly. 

  Sitting in my new chair, placing a photo of me and Steven taken at my college graduation on my desk felt right as my only possession.  There was nothing else of my personal belongings or personal life that I intended to share with my new co-workers until I was settled in, because as far as anyone at work would be concerned I had no personal life, and that's the way I wanted it.
  After brief introductions by the main receptionist to the rest of the office staff I was lead to an impromptu meeting with the current office manager, Carole, who was leaving for our sister store out of town.  I was briefed on what she did, which was way more than I anticipated, and I was given a slight overview of my job description.  Signing authority and essentially office carte blanche was decided after a 3 month probation period, which made perfect sense to me.  Plus, until I fully understood my role within the company I didn't want the added responsibility of signing authority.
 

   My day began smoothly, but by mid-morning I was completely overwhelmed and understandably scared to death of my new job.  It seemed like Carole could just knock out everything asked of her, make decisions on the fly, and calmly make decisions yes or no to our fellow employees.  It was daunting to watch, but I kept my notes handy, scribbling any explanation given with my own side notes for later investigating.
  Finally, after perhaps the longest morning of my life, Carole asked me at 11:55 what I was doing for lunch, to which I calmly replied, “A liquid lunch, for sure,” which made her laugh at me. 
  When we parted for lunch, I sank into my own office chair with an exhale.  I remember sitting there thinking anyone who starts a new career within a new company who says they took to it immediately was a liar.  No one could possibly grasp all there was to know within the 2 weeks I had to spend with Carole shadow training.
  After lunch Carole and I went over payroll together which was good because the following Monday was the day payroll was submitted, so I was able to watch, study, and learn the payroll system that was used by Halton Facilities with her as practise.  I was glad to see this before I was totally overwhelmed with information because other than a generic handbook there was no other program like it on the Internet to study.
  Finally, at 4:30 I was told I could leave if I wanted to.  Carole explained the office hours were 8:30 to 5, but with the option to take only a half hour lunch each day, or on any specific day if we wanted or needed so we could leave a half hour early. 

  Carole explained it was a company policy which most used in the summer when children were out of school, or playing sports, so the parents could leave early.  It was a cool policy which was popular by everyone, even the childless employees.  I was then told I had to monitor it however because it was based on an honor system and a few employees liked to 'forget' they took their full hour lunch when they tried to slip out at 4:30.
  At the very end of my first day Carole gave me a little pep talk, and explained I was handling all the information well, and she believed I would be fine.  She reminded me that she was only a phone call away if I needed her once she left and I thanked her endlessly for everything.

  Parting for the day, I finally walked from her office to my own as she yelled down the hall, “Enjoy your liquid
dinner,
” to my embarrassment and humor. 
 

  When Carole and I were through as I walked back to my temporary office, the receptionist stopped me suddenly by yelling, “These are for you, but I don't know who they're from,” as she handed me a beautiful vase and bouquet of my favorite roses. 

  I was surprised and assumed Steven or my parents sent them as a good luck gesture, yet as soon as I looked at the card's envelope I knew why the receptionist, whose name I couldn't remember at that moment, added the second statement.  Clearly, the envelope had been opened multiple times, which pissed me right off.  Looking at her, I realized she was going to be a shit-disturber so I had to work my magic on her quickly to get her in line before she rolled over me when Carole left.
  Taking my flowers from her without acknowledging her in the slightest, I entered my office, dumped my notes on my desk, plopped into my chair and took a deep breath of my beautiful blue roses- my favorites. 

  Smiling, I tore open the envelope but was again surprised by Peter.
 
Dear Sophie,
  I hope you have a wonderful first day.
  You've been on my mind since I met you.
  Peter
  545-3188
   Rereading the note, I had those weird butterflies in my stomach again and a stupid smile on my face as I passed through mental exhaustion straight into excitement.  Peter and his roses became an instant distraction from the monumental hill I had to climb in my new position.
  So after exhaling all my tension, I left 5 minutes later with my notes, purse and huge bouquet of blue roses, saying a generic goodbye to my co-workers without making eye contact with what's her name, the private note reader.
 

  Once I arrived home, I kicked off my snow covered heels on the mat, collapsed onto my couch and finally exhaled.  I was exhausted but exhilarated.  I loved all the responsibility my job required, but it was daunting to think in 2 weeks I would be alone with it all. 
  I also thought about Peter and knew I had to thank him for the beautiful flowers, but I was nervous.  Peter had shown entirely too much interest in me from just a quick 10 minute meeting in a store.  I was a little turned off by his attention, yet admittedly, also intrigued by it. 

  Actually, if I was being totally honest, I couldn't stop thinking about him at the time, because the flowers seemed to have cemented his place in my mind.  Even when I tried to think about everything I had learned earlier at work, my mind would frequently wander back to thoughts of Peter.
  Eventually, I even found myself trying to remember exactly what Peter looked like.  I tried to piece him together before I made the call because I wanted to be totally prepared when we spoke so I maintained the upper hand.
  I remembered he had blue eyes and brown hair, and he was tall, but not overly so.  He had an average body, but that was questionable because of the heavy winter coat he wore.  I thought he had clear skin, and nice full lips, and though he seemed totally generic in his looks, I remember he was somewhat compelling nonetheless.  I remember he was someone you would never say was hot, but he was someone you felt very attracted to regardless. 

  I thought he could even be my type, if I had a type, which I didn't.  Many conversations with girlfriends revolved around this very topic of my 'type', because there was no pattern to it.  I had loved the athletic gorgeous high school fantasy for all girls, the slacker grungy attractive University guy, and the established slightly heavy older man. 

  I liked heavy so I was dainty, and I liked smaller so we were similar.  However different they may have seemed on the surface, I had loved them all equally though.  Actually, I think I just loved the man I loved, not his physical attributes, and I'm fairly sure that's an honest assessment, not just the politically correct one most woman would say whether true or not.  If I loved them I loved them, no matter what they looked like, until it was time to move on.
  So after my dinner and shower, I finally settled in beside my blue roses and dialed Peter's number. 

  Waiting, I prepared for a grateful but aloof thank you, mixed with a warning to avoid more from him.  I didn't want anything to happen, whatever that could possibly be because I had a new life and a new career starting, and my career needed to be my focus in life at the time.
  “Hello?”
  “Hi, Peter.  This is-”
  “Sophie...” He breathed heavily leaving my name just hanging there between us.
  “Um, thank you for the beautiful roses, they were a very kind gesture for my first day at work.  I really appreciate it.  Thank you.”
  “Are you hanging up already?” He asked to my confusion.
  “Yes, I have a big day tomorrow, and I need to read my notes from today.  But I wanted to thank you first before it became too late.  So thank you,” I spoke quickly trying to hang up, but he continued anyway.  

  “Did you like the color?”
  “Yes, actually.  Blue roses are my favorite, though a little difficult to find.”
  “Not when you know where to look.  They're my favorite, too.  Have you been to Bedouins on Cedar?  They always have blue roses.  And obviously they deliver.”
  “Um, no I haven't, but I'll make sure to check it out.  Thank you again, but I really have to go now and get back to my work.”
  “You have to go?  Or you want to go?” He asked simply.
  Exhaling into the phone, I was annoyed by his straightforwardness, but decided on honesty. 

  “Well, both actually.  I
do
have to look over my notes because this job is important to me, and I don't know you so I would like to go now.  But again, thank you.” 
  “Maybe one day I'll be important to you,” he said so calmly I was immediately confused by him.  Thinking quick about a kind response, I tried to appease him as best as I could.
  “Yes, maybe you will be.  I should go though. Good bye Peter.”
  But again he spoke like he was oblivious to the fact that I was trying to be nice while hanging up quickly.  “Have dinner with me on Friday night to tell me all about your first week.”

  “I can't.  I have plans,” I lied.
  “Then Saturday.”
  “I have to work.”
  “Really?  Where?”
  “I waitress one day on the weekend.”
  “When do you relax?” He asked with a serious tone I was unused to.
  “I don't know.  Whenever I'm not working, I guess.”
  “When do you have fun?”
  “When I do,” I stated a little more than annoyed.
  “Where do you live?” He asked changing the subject quickly.
  “I'm sorry?”
  “Where do you live?  I think you said you were close to the health food store.  Didn't you?”
  “No, I didn't.”
  “Oh, well...
do
you live close to the store?”
  “No,” I lied again.
  “Okay.  Well, I'll see you on Sunday at noon.  Are you working then?”
  “Yes,” I lied again as I realized dealing with Peter was suddenly making me a pathological liar.
  “Well, you just told me you work
one
day on the weekend, which is Saturday, so Sunday you're free.  I'll meet you at noon on Sunday at Murphy's in the village.  Have a great week, Sophie,” he said cheerfully as he hung up on me.
  And I remember
what the fuck-
ing my way to the kitchen for some chips.  Staring at the cordless phone in my hand waiting to call him back when I cooled down, I thought he was insane and annoying and pushy and just totally
what the hell? 
I also didn't think he would listen to me if I called back to tell him I couldn't meet him on Sunday, so I decided to ignore him completely instead.  I decided to ignore him
and
stand him up on Sunday because honestly I didn't feel attracted to his behavior, but rather irritated and annoyed by it. 
  Men didn't order me around and men didn't demand things from me. I always led my own life, and I had never let a man bully me or force me into doing anything I didn’t want to do, so I wasn’t starting with him.