Never

Chapter 2

The last few weeks was a blur and I find myself standing here in Jen's office, our hotel manager.

"Your schedules been changed, uh uh, don't ask questions", she waves her fingers 'no' and I close my mouth and stop my questions immediately.

"Well, you'll be covering for Cecil from now on, Wednesday to Monday, penthouse, here's the key", she drops a shiny gold key to me and continues "Go there before 6:30 then get out as soon as possible no more than 8 am just clean the place, though Mr. Dawn doesn't really stay there a lot, so you shoudn't have difficulty, call maintenance immediately if something in the penthouse is off", and I zone out still wondering this sudden change of scheduling as she rambles off about Cecil transferring so suddenly to Mexico and what to do and what not to do and the time in the evening and then I'm off and riding up to the exclusive elevator of the penthouse to the very top.

This is my first time here. Even the exterior of the elevator is intimidating with black and silver mirrors surrounding me. I look at my reflection and see blue eyes staring back, blue eyes too big , then I touch the scar behind my neck.

I've been touching it a lot lately. A downward cut just under my hairline a couple of inches long. This small cut is a reminder of who I really am.

It was all I remembered back when I was little, I was bleeding to death in the alley when they found me and rushed me to the hospital. My thoughts were jumbled, I remembered I wanted to cry but can't. They were talking about adoption. My four year old brain could'nt process it all at once I was so confused, I just woke up my neck in a thick binding and hurting. All I knew was they're talking about me being taken away and my little self coudn't take another person touching me and and bringing me with them. I remembered being really really scared.

So I slipped and ran away. From then I lived on the streets, I didn't know how I managed it but I kept moving from one place to the other, hoping I survive for a night. Hope, such a funny word, four letters that shattered me everytime I believe in it.

It was hard being so young on the streets, it wasn't until I was 15 that Rita found me. There were good people who helped me throughout the years, and I suppose they  started calling me Ali because they didn't know what to call me and I sort of allowed them and I grew to love the name eventually.

The elevator signals my arrival waking me from my reverie and I'm greeted with a massive paronamic view of the city. I gulped real hard.

Wow

I scan my eyes around the place, the penthouse is decorated with a minimalist design, big black and white frames complement the already black walls. This penthouse is huge. I wonder if a family lives here, I think its floorplan covers the whole 25th floor, yet I don't see any evidence that a family lives here. It's mostly dark and bare furniture.

I go on with my business and started cleaning the mess that is nonexistent. This penthouse is spotless I think nobody even lives here. It's sort of uninviting.

I was about to finish up when I heard footsteps padding softly near me. Okay hurry hurry hurry..

I zip everything up in less than a minute and turn bowing my body, noticing a polished shoe, I focus my gaze to the floor. It's a him. I forced myself to be as quite as possible and started walking to the door.

"Where's Cecil?" I halt abruptly contemplating if I should answer the raspy voice that addresssed me.

I answer. "Miss Cecil transfered to Mexico sir to be with her grandparents, that's all I know..." I trail off as I finally met his eyes.

Oh

I stare at them, squinting slightly as he blocks the ray of sun that managed to break through the panels behind him yet his eyes are oddly illuminated by the light. He's wearing a loose shirt and pajamas. I can't decipher what color his eyes are, honey? though I know they are staring back at me. What do I mean 'color of his eyes'? Get your ass now and leave! That silly old voice of reason resonates in my head but I found myself wanting to hear him reply.

"Oh", he says after awhile. His head dips down looking at my hands that is holding my cleaning materials and looks right back at my face. And I know what he's thinking immediately.

I smiled embarassed "I'll get going now sir", I bowed my head curtly and left in a hurry saving us both from further interaction though I know there would never be any one in the future soon, just in case.

Even though I didn't clearly saw his face I know somehow he is goddamn good-looking. Damn the sun for hitting my face directly and him having the advantage. Having the advantage?  Silly silly Ali.

Was that even a conversation?

No.

I occupy myself that whole day in cleaning the hotel rooms, avoiding thinking about the awkward conversation that had just transpired that morning and when I came back in the evening the penthouse was empty and I cleaned quickly and left.

When I got home that evening, Rita was already asleep in her bed and I crouched down and kissed her forehead.

"I made you dinner Ali girl, its in the oven", she smiles and goes back to sleep. I glance at the mess in the kitchen, amused that a blind old lady could go to so much fuss just to cook me dinner.

I ate my dinner in silence, cleaned the mess and went to sleep. And as I drifted off to sleep my thoughts are of a tall man silhouetted by the sun scowling at me.