Mixed Signals

Waking Up

I woke up with a pounding headache and my phone buzzing in my ear.

Fuck. Hangover. Again.

I stretched tiredly, fumbling for my cell and sitting up. As I checked the time, my covers fell off and I noticed I was nude. Yet the other side of the bed was empty. Fuck. Another girl. You've got to be bloody kidding me.

I sighed deeply, wrapping a sheet around my waist and padding as quietly as possible to the bathroom just by my bed. I slid on some clean clothes and checked my reflection. Bleary light blue eyes, ringed with dark circles stared back at me, a bit of facial hair roughening the outline of my jaw. I turned on the faucet, cupping my hands under the cold water and splashing it on my face.

It didn't help with waking me up.

Barefoot, I exited the bathroon and checked my phone. Multiple texts from different unknown numbers sat in my inbox. The most recent was the one that had woken me.

Had a great time last night;) let's do it again sometime... xx Renee

I sat on the edge of my bed and ran a hand through my hair. Well, at least she wasn't clingy.

For some reason, my flat felt incredibly lonely then, like I was missing something. It-- I, was empty. Pushing the feeling aside, I stood and left my room. I made it to the kitchen, preparing my breakfast to upbeat alternative music.

When I finished eating, I went back into my room and dressed in my usual business attire-- two piece, light grey suit, crisp white button up, top two buttons undone, polished black shoes and no tie. I grabbed my phone, wallet and briefcase and exited the flat into the complex's spacious hall.

Silence enveloped me and I walked the length of the hall to the elevator. As it shut, I heard a shout from outside to hold it and stopped the doors.

A girl, probably early twenties with mussed, dark red hair, and stunningly bright blue eyes smiled at me graciously. I nodded back politely, slyly surveying her as she got on. She was short, nearly a foot shorter than me, with generous curves, and porcelain skin. Her hair was short, as if she'd been growing out a pixie. She was wrapped in an olive green sweater, dark jeans, and black boots. She had a purse slung across her torso and a large to-go mug in her hand.

"Thank you," she spoke with an American accent, which made me do a mental double take.

"Of course," I nodded again. After a few seconds, the silence got a little uncomfortable. "I don't think I've seen you around before. Did you just move in?"

She nodded, smiling with prominent cheekbones and a small gap in her front teeth. "Yeah, my best friend and I just moved here from America. Obviously. You could probably tell from the, uh," she trailed off, making an expression as if she were trying to say, Wow, I'm an idiot.

"Yeah, yeah," I smiled at her warmly. "I'm Ian." I held out my hand.

"Gemma," she shook it.

"So have you got a job, Gemma? Or are you going to Uni or whatnot?"

"Got a job, actually," she seemed surprised at that fact.

"Really? Where at?"

"Um, I'm pretty sure it's called Elliott and Sons? Elliott and Co. or something?" The name of my company came from her lips.

"Elliott and Co." I replied, grinning. "I work there too."

"Small world," she chuckled cutely.

"Since we're heading the same direction, do you want to get some coffee or something?" I asked as the doors dinged and opened.

We exited, and she gestured to the mug in her hand. "Well, I already have this, and I don't want to be late on my first day," she looked pensive. "But, I mean, I guess could eat something."

"Fantastic," I smiled brightly. "There's a great place just down the street, if you don't mind walking?"

"Of course not," she smiled back at me, and I felt, for once comforted by a stranger's smile.