~~Young~~

Chapter Four

   And something about this guy was off.

   She flipped the page in her notebook and began scribbling down details. He was tallish, maybe about six feet and lean. He was clean cut as any other businessman would be, but he was almost too stereotypical. Black suit, white shirt, she couldn’t see his tie- or shoes for that matter- but she could see cufflinks, onyx cufflinks. Black leather briefcase, his black hair seemed a little long but it was neat, though that was becoming the norm even amongst his type. He didn’t seem too old either, no veiny hands and his skin seemed pretty…fresh, tanish, a little darker then hers. He just might be at the top end of her generation, the ones making the long hair acceptable in the office.

   “Why not the computer?” the man asked out of nowhere, his eyes still on the door.

   Sera jumped at his voice, scrawling across the page in her notebook, “I’m sorry?” she asked his back.

   She bit her lip, the Sera everyone saw wouldn’t have apologized for not hearing him, she would have bit off a ‘what did you say?’ if not just completely ignored him. But he didn’t even know her so what would it matter right?  

   “I asked why aren’t you using the computer for your work,” he continued to speak to the door and not her, “it’d be easier then handwriting it out no?”

   “I…uh…I like writing better then typing,” she admitted, having no other answer for that most random of questions.

   And she supposed he liked that answer because he turned around, throwing her a killer smile that made those blue eyes absolutely light up, “hey, me too. Just because they make some fancy new machine to do the work for you doesn’t make it better, right?”

   Sera could only blink incoherently at him for a few moments. He was very…attractive from this side, “um…right.”

   He gave her a nod and then went back to scanning the room, now looking over the items behind Sera and on the wall above her, “personally I think everyone is too dependent on machines these days. They don’t have any concept of a real days work is.”

   She frowned at that.                                                                

   “And you would?” she said without hiding any of the skepticism in her voice.

   Because it was hard to believe a man the likes of this guy with his loafers and red silk tie- she could see them both now- had done so much as his own laundry.

   But he met her frown head on, albeit more playful then serious, “you cannot judge another person by looks alone Ms…”

   “Turner, Sera Turner.”

   “Well Ms. Turner,” there was that smile again, curling up just the one side of his mouth this time as he looked her over, “I would imagine you wouldn’t want someone to do the same about you now would you?”

   She shrugged and dropped her eyes back to her notebook; he didn’t need to know that’s exactly what she hoped for.

   “Who cares? If someone doesn’t like me then that’s their problem not mine,” she mumbled as she went back to her work.

   Though honestly what she was writing down was most likely incoherent babble just to make it look like she was busy. Not that he could see, she had tilted her notebook against the lip of the desk when he turned around. If he was really the investigator then she certainly didn’t need him seeing what was really on the page.