an assistant of sorts.
I shuffled into Mr. Stark’s office, Pete and the new, interesting Eleanore following behind me. Mr. Stark looked up from the papers Miss Potts was showing him, at the sound of the door.
“Pete! Good to see you.. and Eleanore. Showing her around with Keller, I assume?” Stark says, cocking his eyebrow, curiously smiling at Pete.
“Of course, Mr. S! Nothing more, nothing less,” Pete said smiling at him and Miss Pots.
“Keller, continue Eleanore’s tour, would you? Peter, stay here. Miss Potts and I need to talk to you,” said Stark, changing his smile to a firm face that is hard to describe.
“Of course, sir!” I said nervously, looking to Eleanore to follow me.
She smiles at me and walks behind me. I heard the soft padding of her boots behind me and I smile at the comforting sound.
“So, Eleanore,” I start.
“Oh, please call me Elle. But, continue, sorry,” she said, apologetically smiling at me.
“So, Elle,” I start again, smiling at the sound of her name. “What did Stark hire you for?”
“Creative design internship,” she said picking at the binder she was holding. “Stark told me to bring a portfolio of sorts. So yeah.”
“I’m an assistant of sorts, if you couldn’t tell,” I said, my face reddening at the thought of being bossed around by someone in front of her.
“So, how do you know Peter?” I asked, not mentioning the tension I felt when they were sat in the waiting area. Her face flushed a light shade of pink.
“We’re, uhm. We’ve known each other since we were in diapers basically,” Elle said shyly.
“Oh, I see.”
I continue walking next to her, matching her pace. I lead her to her office.
“Why are we in here?” she said walking in and spinning around nervously.
“This is your office. You did know you had an office, right?” I say, slightly laughing.
“My office? Seriously? Mine,” she said nervously.
I motion towards the name card on the desk that smoothly read “ Eleanore Vincent”.
“Jesus, my head is spinning,” she said and went to sit in the chair behind the desk.
“That’s what I’ve been saying pretty much all day,” I mutter quiet enough so only I hear.
I tug on the loose strings on my sleeve and adjust my sweater. We soak in the silence for a while and just look around Elle’s new office a bit. I give her some information that she will need for her time here. She gawks at the tablet in the desk, equipped with all the art programs she could ever need, and more.
Her eyes brighten and she looks happier than I know how to describe.
“So, I said I was sort of a assistant?” I say embarrassed of what I was about to say.
“Yeah,” she said, glancing up at me, her eyes confused.
“Well, I am sort of your assistant,” I said, clearing my throat slightly so I don’t choke on all of my swallowed pride.
“Pf, I don’t need an assistant.”
“Stark thinks you do, and so, here I am,” I look at her, only to have her laugh in my face.
“You’re kidding me, right?”
“No,” I say lowering my voice.
“Oh, my Freya,” she stands up. “Keller, oh my Freya, I can’t boss you around like people do with assistants. I can’t. I hardly even like telling the waiter at a restaurant that my food is wrong or something,” she starts walking towards me.
I somehow manage to stumble even though I am standing still. I find myself on the floor, laughing at my idiocy. She picks up her pace and holds out her hand.
“Are you okay?” She said sweetly.
“Yeah,” I say, smiling up at her and taking her hand. She helps me stand up and I brush myself off with my left hand.
I hear her stifle a laugh and look down and notice that I still have a hold of her hand. I pull it away and stifle a laugh myself. She smiles and turns around. She places her hands into the pocket of her yellow hoodie , which I now see says ‘broken dreams club’ on the back. I smile at the thought of her living her dream while wearing it.
I am packing up what I need to take home to work on, when I feel a light tap on my shoulder. I turn around and see Elle standing there, smiling in her big coat.
“Hey, I was going get some coffee or hot chocolate at Housing Works and wondered if you wanted to come. I think Peter will be there, but he might be busy,” she says smirking as if she is hiding a secret.
I smile generously at her, “Oh, yeah! Are we taking your car or?”
“Pft, I don’t have a car, I usually take the subway or someone drives me,” she said kind of nervously.
“We can take my car! It’s a bit of a walk to the subway from here.”
“Oh! That sounds okay!” she smiled. I finished grabbing my things and proceeded to walk to the car park.
We arrive at the car and when Elle sees it she beams. I look at her.
“What?” I look at the slightly beat up ‘67 Impala.
“This is like my dream car,” she said absolutely fawning over it.
“It’s not that cool, it was honestly cheap but its reliable,” I laugh and lovingly pat the roof.
I unlock my door, get in and then reach over to unlock her door. She is still beaming as she opens the door and slides in. I tell her to toss her bag in the back and she does so. She lovingly runs her fingers along the dashboard and the detailing along the edge of the seat. I reached over to put it into reverse and as I do so, I feel her delicately running her fingers on the detailing. My hand lands on top of hers and I quickly pull away, both of our faces flushing. I look down and when she drags her hand off of it, I reach over and put it into reverse and we go.
The silence in the car was not awkward but, comfortable, the quiet music soared and fell. We reached Housing Works within 10 minutes and we get a decent parking spot.
I helped Elle out of the car, opening her door for her.
She grabbed her bag and got out. We walked into the small coffee shoppe. She leads me back to a small corner area, sets her bag down on the floor and hangs her coat on the backside of a chair. We then walk two 2 sections over to order our drinks. All the while talking about work and how her first day went.
Once we are handed our drinks, she leads me back to the small corner. I look around.
“What section is this supposed to be?”
“Modern poetry,” she said stretching to reach a yellow book towards the top.
The book looks battered, like someone has read it a million times. She sets it down and reached back up and grabs a similar book, but in blue. I pick up the yellow book, it reads in simple small text “Her Favourite Colour Was Yellow ” by Edgar Holmes. There was a small rose on the cover. She places the blue one down, “ For When She’s Feeling Blue” also by Edgar. The same rose was printed on the cover, this time in white.
“Edgar Holmes?” I asked questioningly.
“Uh, yeah. These books were from my grandpa to my grandmother. I never met her,” she said looking sadly down into her hot chocolate.
She stirs it slowly and goes to open the tattered books.
I see spots where wet dots have dried. I look at her understandingly. I reach my hand out for hers. I place my hand on top of her free one.
She doesn’t pull away but she also doesn’t ease into it. She looks at the pages.
“I’m afraid of growing old, knowing that I lost a love as powerful as ours, the only thing that made life meaningful” she read calmly and evenly. I see the tears starting to form in her eyes, which she quickly wipes away.
“Elle, I-” I get flustered and forget my words.
“Keller, can you take me home?” she said, still looking down.
“Yes, of course. Anything, Elle.”
We both gather our things and she places the books back on the shelf.
She gives me the address and I pull up the gps. She places her hand on the middle console resting it on mine. She blushes and pulls away. I place my hand back on the wheel and she places her hand back on the console. I turn up the music and Polygraph Eyes by Yungblud plays through the speakers. She smiles and sings along. I place my hand on top of hers on the console, she flips her hand and grips mine. I smile.
I park in front of the building.
“Do you want to come in?” she says, voice wavering. I smile nervously, and nod my head. I could see the unease in her eyes.