VANISHED (#1 in the VANISHED series) #NaNoWriMo2019 ✔

o n e ✔✔

"Ariel Daniels, hm. Yes... here is your paperwork."

Arielle cringed at the man—pressed suit, upturned nose, stiff fingers. Typical bureaucrat; down to the smooth, recently shaved skin, not a nick in sight, and the sleek, almost greasy hair. The alert eyes, broad shoulders, a bit of a belly from his after-work beer dates at the local dive-bar. He opened the thin dossier containing her request, calm and composed—the opposite from her.

She swung one leg over the other, sensing the hole in the heel portion of her left stocking, and holding in a cringe at the discomfort it caused her. "It's Arielle. Ah-rielle. You know, like the way Sebastian calls the Little Mermaid in the movie?"

He smiled—one of those, right, whatever you say smirks that always got under her skin. "Arielle, yes, apologies." He deposited the flimsy document onto his wide and de-cluttered desk and steepled his fingers, peering at her like a school headmaster about to expel a repeat offender. "So... you are twenty-two?"

"Yes." Why did he sound so... disgusted? Surprised? Yes, she was young—fresh out of college, a striving woman fighting to fit into society, to make ends meet, to support herself. But did he need to be so condescending? "Is that going to affect your decision?"

Again that smile; that pitying, rude, egotistical gesture that made her skin crawl. "No, Arielle, your age has nothing to do with this. Though, I will say... twenty-two and inquiring about a loan, it's uncommon."

She blinked at him. "Uncommon?" A chill drilled up her spine as she braced herself for his judgment, his dubious questions. Would he double-check her sex, next? "And is that a problem? Does that mean no?"

He unleashed a noise resembling a mix of a snort and a scoff and dragged his still clasped hands closer to his mouth. "No, that also has nothing to do with my or the bank's decision. It's only a question to certify what you filled out here."

"Sure. Do you need to confirm my address, my license, social security number, place of employment and all that?" She inhaled a breath, steadied her thrumming heart, expelled a wave of oxygen.

Calm down, girl. Calm down.

So often she'd faced men with prejudice and who looked down on her, who criticized her choices, pinpointed her weaknesses, fought to force their opinions into her cranium. Would this man be any different?

Another deep breath and she straightened her spine and let her palms rest on her knees. "Sorry, that was... inappropriate. I'm nervous."

"First time?" He released his hands to grab a mug from his desk, sipped from it, and smacked his lips. "It's quite all right, asking for money is... disconcerting." He wanted to be reassuring, she could tell; but it didn't work, and his polite manner was melting like an ice-cube on a Florida beach. His rigidity, his faltering smiles concealing his undercover snark proved he was about to deny her.

"It is," she mumbled, certain she had a lipstick stain on her teeth, eyeliner under her eyes, clumps of hair on her shirt. She'd inspected herself before she wandered into his brightly lit and overheated office. But... with her luck, everything had fallen out of place in the moments she took to sit down and exchange quick pleasantries with him while he retrieved her file.

"Here is what... troubles me, Miss Daniels." He opened the binder, pulled out the single sheet of paper it contained, squinted at it. "Your reason for applying."

She frowned. "My... my reason for applying? What do you mean?"

"This travel expenses description... it's too vague." He peered at her for half a second, but enough to convey his arrogance, his all-knowing attitude. "What kind of travel expenses are we talking about? A plane ticket? Gas to fill your car to drive across the country? One thousand dollars... a paltry amount for a loan. Our lowest, in fact."