Fourth 1000 (ish)

[Dear reader: If you want to start at the beginning, read the First 1000 (ish), or read this 1000 (ish) on its own.]

Amy startled when Cindy’s voice paged through to her phone. “Your interview is here!” she sing-songed.

“Thanks, I’ll be right down,” Amy answered, grabbing an unnecessary note pad and pen, a busy-work prop for her hands. She headed to what served as their “lobby.” Cindy’s desk sat just inside the door to the left, with customer service’s bull pen behind her. Inside the door to the right were the two visitor chairs. Amy rounded the corner into the lobby briskly, having galloped down the stairs in an effort to shake off her tipsy feeling. As soon as she was in sight Gabriel stood up and stepped toward her. “You must be Amy.”

Before the smooth rumble of his voice hit her ears like an aftershock a jolt went through her. He was the kind of good looking she determinedly numbed out on years ago. She mentally shoved aside what felt, annoyingly, like excitement. He was maybe 6’ 1”, athletic shoulders, head back, chest slightly forward, posture of confidence. He had thick sandy hair, left a little long all around, giving him a casual air. He smiled and one of his nice white front teeth showed a chip on the bottom inside, making a small triangle. She wondered how he chipped it. In a moment Amy took in his pressed shirt carefully tucked in to his trim waistband. No tie, and where the collar was unbuttoned she could see that he had chest hair. He held out a square hand that looked capable of carpentry, mechanical repair, and giving a good squeeze. Amy connected with her next inhale and snapped back to professional mode. Her handshake was firm and she looked him in the eye evenly.

“And you’re Gabriel. Follow me.” Her voice came out husky and deep.

She turned down the hall leading him to a conference room. Amy became acutely aware of her hips moving with each step. Her old boyfriend’s admiring refrain entered her mind, an intimate joke about her walk. He would say softly “back and forth, back and forth,” Her already-good posture ticked up another notch and she kept her pace steady. They entered the conference room with its large wooden table. Mounted covers of The Coastal peppered the walls. She placed her note pad and pen down in front of her. As he lowered himself into a nondescript wooden-framed padded chair and shifted to sit back the chair tilted sharply. He lurched forward, splaying out his arms and legs to regain his balance, his reaction swift.

A very unprofessional giggle erupted from her. “I’m so sorry. That’s the trick chair, it happens to all of us,” she wanted to put him at ease.

“Now I know,” he smiled back.

An understanding sprung up and Amy realized they both knew the interview was a formality. She saw in his eyes that he also meant he knew a lot of things. Things that he wanted to tell her and show her. She felt caressed by his smile, her mind’s eye flashing a movie montage of “they met cute” with him almost falling over in his chair and her. The movie cut before she did anything.

Amy experienced a second kind of black out for the next hour. There, but also not there, she knew they talked about the company. The job. Gabriel’s background. Talk became personal, the note pad and pen never touched. He loved rock climbing. She loved music. Gabriel mentioned his girlfriend. Not married, but two kids. His youngest boy only 10 months old. Amy felt a flutter in her stomach when he mentioned his family. When he asked about hers, she said she was single and didn’t elaborate.

“Look, we both know Zeb wants to hire you, so the only thing left is when do you want to dive in?” She rushed her question, fleeing the love-life discussion.

“Tomorrow? Let’s get started.” He stood, then she stood.

Amy toured him through their modest building. Built in a warehouse zone, it was a squared-off, newish place. She felt pride as she walked him through the various departments, circulation, editorial, advertising, each with one or two staff. They cared about their work. They felt like a family. She loved that about The Coastal. Gabriel charmed and warmed up everyone he met. In between departments they kept up their chatter. The whole tour lasted less than 15 minutes. The time walking, standing and watching him brought her back to earth. Jarred back into her work self as the tour circled back to the conference room she said, “That’s it. You said you’d be here at 9 tomorrow. There will be an orientation, and I’m sure Zeb will want a lot of your time.” She took a step toward him, to start escorting him down the hall. He stood still, the space between them became closer than social-courtesy width.

“I can find my way from here. It was a pleasure. Thanks for your time today,” he reached out and touched her arm. “See you tomorrow.”

She watched him jaunt down the hall, his head slightly lifted, strides smooth, arms swinging and back rippling back and forth, back and forth.

Alone in the hall she smiled broadly before her face went slack, one word ringing in her mind. Trouble.

The LB gathered close in a line, watching. As their physical distance grew, the fireworks between the Child and the Man didn’t completely dissipate, but lingered around both Children. The LAL was also there, for a meeting of Contract. LAL always there, but the LB felt the heightened energy.

“Look,” said the Guardian. The Second and the Others, now in the form of Pyramus and Thisbe saw the ripples and showers of sparkling tingle fan around the Child. They all knew it was too early to see which way this would go.

The Second expressed, though it was known, “It’s the Contract. Rare that two will have discernment and willingness coincide.”

“Now is all of the potential,” noted the Guardian, looking pointedly at the Others, who morphed now into a triangle and sphere. They moved close to Amy, plucking and massaging the tiny thoughts swirling around her head. The Child felt and knew something happened between her and the Man. Thinking was slow, needing to catch up to the rest, but at least they could work to ease the confusion. Their efforts valiant but only somewhat effective. Only when she slept again would they be able to get close. Soon enough.