Fairy Tale Fail

Chapter 6 - Salmon and cream cheese

I had been obsessively planning trips for years. It was probably my only regular hobby, that wasn't watching movies or TV.
   That first trip (with my younger sister Rita) to Hong Kong did it. Something about being in the airport, and going into an unfamiliar city – that was exciting for me. Knowing that I had absolutely everything to look forward to.
   Too bad I just couldn't afford to do it that often. Like Don pointed out, I wasn't exactly a hotshot executive, and I didn't make that much. I also felt like I didn't have the time, but really, I was probably just waiting for a travel companion. Someone who would enjoy the adventure with me.
   This time I had no excuse, though, once my boss pretty much commanded me to go. So, finally, all those notes about Bangkok were put to good use. Thank God for the Internet, and everyone who ever felt the need to review every single hotel, tourist trap, and airline, because I got by purely on web research.
   Bangkok was my first truly solo trip. I didn't have any friends there (unlike in HK or Singapore), so I prepared a borderline-obsessive "survival list" that included emergency phone numbers, "please," "thank you" and "help" in Thai, and a bunch of other tips. I found myself a cheap hotel room in Pratunam, planned some DIY tours that involved getting around on the train system or hiring a tuktuk, and stashed my shopping budget in three separate wallets.
   In a way, I was glad that Don wasn't around for it. He had this quiet way of bearing with my hobbies, as if he was there merely as a means of transport and not a participant. I would have had to ask him constantly if he was game for this place, for that meal, for this mall, and I would have to hear him ask me if I really needed that bag, that pair of shoes, that belt, and so on.
   Sure, in my ideal world, my boyfriend would be with me and he'd love it, but on that trip I discovered that traveling on my own terms was fun too. I knew I wouldn't run into Don – or anyone he knew – anywhere, even if I walked all day and all night.
   Don was sort of right, by the way. I did change a bit when we got together. I didn't travel because I wanted him with me. I kept trying to think of things we could do together when it shouldn't have mattered so much.
   Ellie the Free Spirit was the girl he fell in love with, the kind of person he kept comparing Ellie the Girlfriend to, and apparently by being away from him I was restoring myself to that state.
   Eventually he was going to see me again – back in my former glory – and remember. Maybe it wouldn't take so long. Maybe I could wait.
  
***

Apparently, a year can go by just like that.
   The three months that followed the breakup were painfully slow, but then the next twelve were like a blur. A few weeks after the Bangkok trip, my older sister Gladys gave birth to little Dylan, and the next months were all about Dylan smiling, coughing, and spitting. Once my savings recovered I took another weekend trip, this time to Macau, and a few months later visited some friends in Singapore.
   And then, of course, there was that matter of starting a new job.
   From writing copy for brochures and websites, I got transferred over to a team that worked with clients. Getting new ones, making sure the existing ones were happy. I didn't go out and meet them, but I helped out the ones who did. Not exactly what I was used to, but my former boss was right; my years of working with her didn't go to waste here.
   Probably the most exciting thing about it (got to be honest) was that my new workstation was on the twenty-second floor, and right on the path of Rock Star's regular trip to the pantry to refill his coffee mug.
   Yeah, eventually a year went by and I didn't even feel it.
  
***

Rock Star – er, Lucas – remembered me as "Sandwich Girl."
   I met him, finally, when I neared my first year with my new team. Not through Charisse and her cigarette-related plots, but through Sandra, the girl we always saw him with. She worked in Client Services too, and we sometimes had lunch together when our meetings bled over past noon.  You'd think that I would have met him sooner, being on the same floor and smiling at him every day when he passed for coffee, but strangely enough that familiarity made it even harder – and more awkward – for me to suddenly introduce myself.
   Good thing Sandra did it for me. That day, after a meeting that ended at twelve-forty-five, I wandered over to her desk, my face giving her the universal expression of hunger. She held a finger up to me, the universal sign of "wait one second" and it seemed like she was arguing with someone on the phone.
   "Fuck you, Marlon, I said stop calling me at work. I swear I'm going to ask them to change my number. And don't even think of showing up here!"
   Okay, more than arguing. Sandra, in case I forgot to mention it, was a boisterous personality. Marlon was her ex-boyfriend.
   I shut my mouth and waited, distracting myself by looking at the collection of Lego people that lined her desk. Lucas walked on over to her desk as well and started to ask her if she wanted to eat.
   Sandra saw and held the same finger up toward him, still on the phone.  "No, my mother has not been getting your messages. And you know why? Because I replaced her phone. You think you're going to scare me with that? Fuck you!"
   I caught Lucas' eye and laughed silently.
   Sandra remembered that we were there and rested the phone on her shoulder. "Ellie. Lucas. You two know each other, right? Go together. I obviously can't right now."
   "Yes ma'am," Lucas mocked a butler's bow and led me out to the elevators.
   "She's so funny," I told him as soon as we were out of earshot.
   "Was that Marlon?" Lucas asked.
   "Apparently. I think I want him to come over, just to see what he looks like."
   "And be a witness to the poor guy's murder? Be careful what you wish for."
   We stopped talking as we settled into the elevator, him slightly ahead of me. He was wearing pinstriped black and purple, bold choice, yet strangely looked great on him. He combed his hair today, I noticed, but from behind saw a patch of rebel hair sticking straight up.  It took all of my willpower not to reach up and fix it, but then again it was totally him. I distracted myself by looking down, but instead I slowly traced a line with my eyes down his messy hair, his neck, and where it disappeared into his collar. He shifted a bit, and his neck moved, and the urge became to, well, bite it.
   Oh crap. Stop it, Ellie.
   When we got out on the floor of the cafeteria, he waited for the crowd to thin, and then spoke up again. "Ellie, right? That's your name?"
   "Eleanor Andrea Manuel."
   "Lucas Haresco. And thank God."
   "Huh?"
   "I thought I was going to be calling you Sandwich Girl in my head forever."
   I laughed. "I think I'm in the mood for salmon and cream cheese today."
   "You know what? Me too."

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There's an Eleanor, Andrea, Manuel family, and Haresco family from my high school. Lucas however is just a name I like.