Chapter7: Alan parte II

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 I turn around, and the kindest eyes in the office are looking at me, framed in a gorgeous royal blue frame. This man wears his glasses well; he could easily be a model for Ray-Ban.

My heart beats differently, without pain, and more with surprise and discomfort. He tells me: — do not tell me you are leaving.

All my silly mouth can say is; — Um.—. I promise you there are more things in my brain. However, I can verbalize them at this moment. It is impossible for me.

— Come; let us have a drink at the bar.

Huh? Me? I turn to see if someone is behind me, and that is the person he is addressing. Thank goodness he ignores my stupidity and guides me to the bar.

He asks; — what do you want?

Without thinking, I say, — Water for me.

His eyes try to hide the surprise, but I quickly change my mind. — A soda — I think that is better. Is it? I do not know. Another of my alien characteristics is that I do not drink.

He cordially responds; — right away!

He caught the bartender's attention with a demanding attitude, and I cannot deny how attractive that was to me.

— Please, a soda for the Miss and a Heineken for me—. Miss? We are doing well. At least he did not say, ma'am, it has happened to me.

He turns around, and his attention returns to me. Oh, oh! God, I should have gone faster, or better, not come at all.

The bartender puts our drinks out front. Alan looks at me expectantly. I look away. I always do it when someone looks me straight in the eye. It intimidates me.

He realizes that I am not starting this conversation because all I do is look at my glass. Therefore, he takes the first step: — I am delighted with the progress in the company. It is challenging to achieve growth during these times.

I say a little loudly — me too.

Looking at his chest and then at my glass, God, Eliz! At least try it. In your mind, you find it easy to converse with him. Here, you are more monosyllabic than a child learning to speak is. I cannot help but think of the movie Look Who's Talking. Focus!

Like a fool, I repeat: — I am also happy with the progress.

God! Why, when I am nervous, do I repeat the same thing? I have to concentrate so that I do not do it again.

He broke the awkward silence with a statement instead of a question. — You have been with us almost since the start. I have noticed you. You are diligent and silent. You focus on your work, and your world is on that desk.

Despite my best efforts, my anxiety sometimes prevents me from fully comprehending what they ask me. I hear them but struggle to process their words. I can answer this — yes, eight years.

He was in college, Max was the only boss, and about four years ago, he graduated. He lived abroad for some time and recently returned to take over the family business. I am getting embarrassed by how « stalker» my thoughts sound when suddenly, I hear him continue talking.

— And what do you think of these eight years?

I answer mechanically. — Excellent, I appreciate the opportunity.

See, I am difficult to talk to. Alan is putting a lot of effort into making small talk. I know it is a courtesy. But not even for Sky can I conjure a social ounce in me. I close my eyes and am in my room, far from here.

Turning my attention to him, I open them as soon as he says; — I hope they are not exploiting you too much. — I look at him with wide eyes, to which I find his smile and a little humor in his eyes. This makes me smile. Talking to him may not be as awful as I initially thought.

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