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☁︎--𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐮𝐠𝐬
The sun beat down on her skin, burning through the polyester low neck fitted shirt,paired with the black plated skirt that fell just about mid thigh, exposing her long legs that stretch to the white tennis shoes she adorns on her feet.
She knew this to be suitable golfing wear according to Google,for she definitely made use of her technical resources before even thinking about her physical ones,and she saw lots of outfits resembling hers,and near likely displays on Pinterest.
Then why was she seemingly so overdressed?
As if the universe is mocking her,her colleague from work,Jamal Crawford walks right through the entrance,clad in normal dark washed jeans and a white polo shirt that one would wear on a quick grocery trip.
She knew they were ordered not to stand out,to blend in,but she unfortunately fell to the category of quite eye-catching today.
She blows a heavy sigh of irritation through her lips, leaving them in a deflated pout.Seated in the receptionist area with some of the others that arrived with her,she seems as if she belongs with the actual guests here to play golf,instead of the employees tasked to boost the use of Kim Delicacy products.
Quite evident,with how she's been mistaken twice to be a golf goer,an waiter at her side ready to escort her before she had to embarrassingly informed them that she was merely here with Kim Delicacies.
Martha sinks down next to her,back from the quick hunt of finding a loo before they would be assembled in a dining court for breakfast,now holding on to a piece of pamphlet.
"What's that?" Zia can't help but curiously ask.
"Something about golf carts..." She shows it in Zia's direction,having her glimpse at the white shiny figurine of a vehicle,with soft looking caramel interior that screams of luxury.
"Damn,must be a sweet ride." She sighs, definitely not looking forward to taking on the estate by foot in this scorching hot weather.
"For real..." Another sigh comes from next to her,and a laugh escapes her at Leonardo's lax expression.
Leonardo Marcello,from the borders of Italy,Kamazia can't remember how to pronounce his home village correct,but she remembers that he'd been staying abroad in new York for the past few years,working at one Kim Delicacy factory as a Manager until he entered for the position at head quarters.
He'd always had a knack for Designing.
Albeit she was glad to have her two fellow intern's with her today,even if she'd begged them to just let her finish this by herself,they'd insisted even harder to come with,even if only for moral support.
A week into their new jobs, they'd dragged her along after work to a new bar opening,which left her to the embarrassing prospect of the social anxiety she undergoed when in new places,people,and that she would at least need a couple of drinks if she didn't want to turn into a panicky mess.
She didn't,courtesy of Martha coming to her rescue with six tequila shots.
She made them both promise though, drunkenly that is,to never mention a word of her crucial anxiety again.Just as she made them promise that they would only enjoy themselves today,and let her serve her punishment out alone.
In the least,they were granted a free entry to one of the countries most elite golfing estates,a dire opportunity of sharpening up the golfing skill that they most probably didn't even have,which would leave her, alone,to pity herself in peace while starting up conversations with the actual golf goers that would be feasting on their products today.
She was to hand in all her observational information by Monday,that is,if she didn't want to be demoted to helper of the janitor.
"Don't end up doing anything stupid,please." She whispers to them when all the geusts start moving to the eating quarters, finally separating herself from them so that they could go take their assigned seats and Kamazia hers.
Somehow,someway,she ended in the middle of a bunch of posh ladies, friendly ones in the least,the blond with dark grey eyes seeming to take a particular liking to her as she immediately starts a conversation.
"So,what is your archetype?" She asks,nudging her shoulder when Kamzia goes for a triangular shaped dish that seemed to exist out of olives and tuna,two of the things that seemed most familiar and most edible at first glance.
When Kamazia only startes up at her in confusion,she briefly rememberes some of her research on golf coursing,and remembers that she classified herself in the fun only category,but maybe she should've classed into the first timers court instead.
"Oh,just here for some fun,it's my first time actually,just a treat...you know?" She smiles in which she hopes is not a grimace instead,but that seems to spark of the conversation all around the table,and she finds everyone telling her about their golfing journey,some having taken it as a sport while still in school,maybe playing for their varsity.
Their was only one other Fun only,the woman that had asked her what her archetype was,who also confessed in a whisper to her ear that she only knew of the term because she'd overused Safari on the studies of golfing courses.
Because just like Kamazia,she hadn't wanted to look stupid. They both laughed at that.
__
It's past three already,and Kamazia has completely forgotten that she was actually here for work, although she's gathered a whole lot of information on their clients likings and dislikings of their products,courtesy of how much people the ladies she dined with at breakfast seemed to know,not minding one bit to introduce their newly made friend to everyone.
She found out they were all married to frequenting golf goers,their husbands a group of gentlemen that called themselves golfing bro's,all having met in varsity when they were on different teams.
They seemingly were also of the richer if the quadrants,the Australian woman that had gushed to Kamazia of her failing classes in University because she was so fascinated with golf,or rather her then crush,the black businesses man that now stares at her adoringly while she laughs.
It's how Kamazia finds herself to gather even more info,and from the most frequent and huge buyers,and they seem none the wiser until another golf goer enters the relaxation area.
As soon as his loafers step onto the carpet laid softly at the entrance,every last head swivels his way,Kamazia's being one of the last as she was busy talking to an elderly Indian couple,the old uncle having her giggle besottedly at his funny tales,well,until his eyes flick to the entry way of the area where her boss has just entered,that is.
Her boss,clad in a black polo shirt that stretches across his muscled front,tailoring to a slutty waist and beige trousers that fit snuggly to his hips and lead down to loose pants.
He lifts his glasses off of his face,eyes searching,before settling on her.
