Lunch came fast. I worked until three to twelve. I didn't change into heels. I locked my computer, waved at Juan and went into the reception.
Why had I agreed to this?
I pushed the button and waited.
The one right before me came to a halt, announced by the little pling, and the doors opened. I stepped into the elevator and pressed the button for the top floor. The door closed slowly.
Would Alexander be silent for an hour? Or would it be in and then out? I wouldn't mind some conversation. Like Sunday morning. That had been nice.
The ride up took a few seconds.
I exited the elevator as the receptionist stood.
A woman, probably around fifty, not that she appeared to be, but if she had to be the same age as my mom, then she would have to be.
She stormed passed me, went into the elevator and ponded at the button, and the doors closed after her.
I looked at the receptionist who looked at speechless as I felt.
"Do you have an appointment with Mr. Greene?" she asked.
I nodded.
"You know the way," she said and looked at the closed elevator door. "Not that I can tell how mad he is. I heard him shout. From here."
I felt like I was as white as a ghost. No, I didn't fear him, but if you reached the point of yelling? There weren't far to my small sandwich place.
Which reminded me that I wanted to show Elliott some Asian food I'd found, and which wasn't bathed in oil.
I knocked on the door to Alexander's office.
There came a deep grunting sound which I assumed meant 'come in'. I pushed the door open.
Alexander was typing on his keyboard, fast. And he wasn't looking away from the screen.
Okay.
I stepped into the office and shut the door behind me. The thought about entering an office like this? It felt as if I was being validated. That was probably why I'd considered my outfit that morning?
On his otherwise immaculate desk was two paper bags with a brand I didn't recognize.
I went to his desk and sat down opposite from him.
He didn't way a word. If he was in the middle of something important Then, two minutes? Yeah, otherwise I'd leave. Mostly because it was disrespectful. If he would just tell me he'd be two minutes.
I looked out the windows behind him.
It looked as if there would be rain later. Downpour was maybe more fitting.
Alexander stood, went to the mini fridge and grabbed two waters. He came back, put one water before me and the sat down opposite me.
I looked at him. "Hi," I said.
He grabbed the two bags and gazed into them before handing me one of them.
"Are we supposed to sit in silence?" I asked.
His eyes were in the shadows created by his brows.
"Okay," I said quietly and opened the bag. I pulled out a sandwich that almost looked too good to be enjoyed in complete silence. "I am taking night classes tonight," I said. Silence had been too big a part of my life, and I wouldn't waste more time on it. Especially not if it wasn't a comfortable silence. Comfortable silences were god, awkward ones? I hated them. And it was guaranteed I had some sort of talking I could use to fill the void.
He looked at me. Just looked at me, without saying anything.
"Do you know the lady? She dashed for the elevator as if someone was chasing her." I said.
Alexander broke eye contact and unwrapped his own sandwich. He took a piece of lettuce and looked at it. "She's not important," he said and looked at me.
"So you can say something today," I remarked.
He put the lettuce back on the paper and folded his hands on the table. "If you want a lot of empty talk and fucking conversations, then leave." He said.
"You invited," I said. "I wasn't aware that involved sitting in deep silence."
"Leave," he said.
I remained seated. Maybe I was only provoking. I wasn't entirely sure.
Alexander stood, wrapped my food back in the paper, put it in the bag, along with the water, gripped my arm and had me standing. Without word he dragged me to the door.
"Leave," he said and pushed me into the hall. He didn't shove me hard, just hard enough for me to get into the hallway. The door was slammed behind me.
I jumped. He was definitely mad, then why even push him?
I took a deep breath and wanted to see if there was anyone. It was deserted. I didn't feel like, to be honest, to go back to the office right now.
I went to the reception, rode the elevator down to the reception and went to Washington Square Park, sat down and ate there.
If he just wanted to be pissed, then he could be pissed on his own. I wouldn't be there with him, that's for sure.
Why was he even mad?
I agreed, I didn't know him at all, but that didn't mean it wasn't weird to be that pissed. If he'd just asked me to leave because he wasn't in a particular good mood? I could handle it. But this? That he just kicked me out?
I went back to the office after half an hour, got back to work and left half an hour early.
I grabbed a quick dinner home before leaving to attend the classes.
Elliott sat down in front of me and looked back. "We're stall game for tomorrow?"
I nodded. "I've handpicked the place."
He smiled. "You look at little beat?"
"I was supposed to eat lunch with a friend, but he was pissed, so I got kicked out," And add to that that Alexander had sent an email that afternoon where he cancelled the vernissage. It was with the excuse that it had been canceled due to illness but still. The timing wasn't quite right to be honest.
"Kicked out?" Elliott said.
I nodded. "To his defense, he was having a really shitty day, but kicking me out?"
Elliott smiled. "Candace would like to invite you do dinner Sunday night? If you can?"
"I think so," I said. "But let me double check before we meet up tomorrow?"
He nodded and turned his attention to the professor who'd just entered the room.
Maybe I'd hoped to get more words out of Alexander? Maybe I was just dying to know more about him? His rejection felt like a bullet to the chest. I wanted to know him! And where did that even come from?! I wasn't attracted to him, it didn't feel that way at least. But he was like an enigma. I wanted to solve him, not that I believed I could, but something in me wanted to try. Or maybe I wanted him to solve me? Were we even supposed to be solved?
Should we even talk when conversations seemed like an impossibility?