She

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The book Michael was reading wasn't very interesting. It hadn't held his attention since she walked through the heavy glass doors to the Chicago restaurant. He ate here every day for his lunch and had never noticed her before. She'd glided through the doors and seated herself right in his line of sight, rays of glowing sunshine illuminating her entire body. Michael was taken with her beauty.

He watched her over the top of his novel, glancing at the pages every now and then to uphold charade. She brushed her fiery red hair from her face with a delicate hand and Michael caught sight of her eyes. They seemed tired but were large and full of life and love. He stared for a little longer then his previous intervals before shaking himself back to his book. Casually he cocked his head around the rest of the restaurant, but no one had seen him.

Michael crossed his legs and lent back in his chair, the metallic finish feeling cold through his shirt. The sun continued to beat down on her across the restaurant and she removed her jacket. She was wearing a casual blouse that had a little pattern around the three quarter length cuffs and black pants. Her hair was just wavy and it fell in cute piles on her shoulders. She was lost in the menu before her. Michael laid his book pages down upon the metallic surface of the table and rolled his long blue sleeves up his forearms. The restaurant had suddenly become very warm in his shaded corner.

The waiter approached him and startled him from his daydream. "Can I get you anything else Sir?" he asked in a polite manner, his pencil poised above the small notepad in his hand. Michael averted his eyes for a second to dismiss the waiter with a hand gesture and a headshake before he returned his gaze. Another waiter had approached her and his pencil busily jotted her order on the pad before him.

She smiled. Michael's breath caught at the sight, expelling from his broad chest silently. The corners of his mouth crept upwards slightly as he smiled to himself, resuming his hiding place behind his very unreadable novel. His eyes kept rolling over towards her and he wondered if anyone had noticed him not turn a page in the last ten minutes. As he did so, her drinks order arrived, a fine glass of water being placed before her. She shook her hair from her shoulders as she thanked the waiter and took a sip.

Michael watched her full, luscious lips connect with the glass and he gulped. A dry lump fell down his throat and his Adam's apple bobbed upwards slightly followed by a deep cough. She placed her glass back on the crisp white tablecloth and snapped her head towards his direction. Michael dropped his head towards his book, a rush of adrenaline surging through his body at being caught. Content that he was fine; she continued to wait for her meal, flicking through the deserts menu.

Michael's breathing increased and he was scared to look up. His cheeks flushed with pink briefly before he realised she hadn't seen him. Slowly he lifted his head, ready to turn away at the slightest revelation that she had. The waiter was placing her salad type meal in front of her as she played with a silver fork, stroking it with her nimble fingers, and thanking him with a smile. Eagerly she began to eat whilst thumbing the pages of a magazine placed next to her plate.

Again a waiter interrupted Michael's view, passing between the space between them to tend to other lunch goers. Michael's eyes fell back to the book as he flipped the page, cracked open the spine and cursed the waiter. It wouldn't take her long to eat a salad and as the waiter scuttled off to the kitchen again, Michael could see she was already finished, glossing her tantalizing mouth with a napkin. She took another long sip of her water before pushing her chair backwards and positioning her black suede jacket on her shoulders.

Michael sat forward in his chair, his dog eared book loosing its page as he pulled his thumb from its place, and he reached for his own jacket. She gathered her magazine into a shoulder bag and the waiter thanked her profusely for her tip. As she got up to leave a small white card with a silvery clip attached fell from her lap but she was unaware. Michael hurriedly threw some newly pressed bills onto the table before him and headed for the fallen item. His now forgotten book was left behind.

He bent down on one knee to retrieve the item. It was about the size of a credit card, white with a barcode on one side and her serene photograph on the other. He searched the restaurant for her image and caught it just leaving through the side door, her auburn locks bouncing as she moved. He pushed himself to his feet and rushed as best he could through the crowded tables and out onto the street.

Michael was taller then most people and could easily see over the semi crowded Chicago street. He was drawn to her as she strode confidently down the street, clutching her bag as her side. Michael took off in her direction gripping her property in his hand. The traffic lights changed as she stepped onto the opposite side of the road and a car screeched to a halt, Michael's large paw slapping its hood. The driver honked his horn and threw his arms at Michael who ignored his abuse and searched the unaltered crowd for her once again. She was gone.

Michael hurried back to the restaurant, scrawled his address onto a napkin and handed it to the waiter on the cash desk.

"If I woman comes back for an ID card she lost here, send her here" he instructed them, tapping his address on the napkin before leaving the restaurant. He was late back from lunch for the first time ever. It was a good job he was the boss.



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