The Sweet Smell of Florsheim Shoes and Michael Kors

Kill me with your pencil...skirt!

Can you say hottie? "Uhh..hello to you too.." The guy was tall...try 6"5? He was pale, and one of the first things I noticed was the towel that was wrapped low around his waist. The annoyed look on his face was the second thing. His protest was attractive and British! While water dripped on the floor of my appartment, I grew mad. His beauty wouldn't let me see past his rudeness. It also didn't let me react quite usually. "Um...I..." Yes, I stuttered, and the Come-back of the Year Award goes to Garland Tea! Yeah, right. The guy was pale but nothing like Edward Cullen. 'Who is it?" yelled Helena from across the apartment. "Es un muchacho. Este es mio," I told her in Spanish, knowing she understood thanks to her Cuban heritage. "Hay, Dios mio, Garland! Ya lo nombrastes tuyo? Que mala gente!" We laughed loud, I almost forgot towel guy, almost. "Hello? Weird chick with weird language?" He looked extremely annoyed. "The water was cold when I got in..." I said trailing off, every word sounding lower than the previous.The anger in his eyes disappeared slowly and was replaced with embarrassment. "Oh. Sorry," he apologized. "Mmhmm," I murmured. I looked down to his towel which made it look like I was skimming his body. His face turned bright red, a change from his pale complexion. "I'm...uh...really sorry 'bout that."

I looked to the floor, watching the little droplets of water touch the tips of his toes. This guy wasn't wearing any shoes. People sure are odd. As I looked up at him, literally, I saw him smiling, a cute sideways smile. We stood there silently, looking at each other. I reached up to smooth out my hair, a sign of nervousness from my part. Crap, my hair was still damp. 'I actually have to get going. It's my first day at the office," I smiled. He laughed and studied me head to toe. His skim made me self-conscious. I covered my chest by crossing my arms. A cheeky grin spread across his face. "Goodbye, Doll, and good luck," he winked, turned around, and left before I could utter a word.

My heart fluttered dangerously, nonetheless what my head was saying: Not now, it's too early. Uh-oh. A huge smile gave away my happiness as I closed the door behind me and turned around to find Helena, with narrowed eyes, watching me suspiciously. I was dead and was going to have to spill immediately. How did I know? Everyone knew her world famous habit: tapping her toothbrush against her chin. "C'mon, Lena! Stop! You know how I feel about that nasty habit! It's like smoking, only worse! She giggled but kept her eyes narrowed. "So," she dragged out the word like it was endless, "you think he'll have a smokin' hot bro' from another mo'? He can even be from the same mo', I don't even care if he's related or not! Hook us up, dawg!" Lena was crazy! This ghetto talk of hers was extremely normal. She was born in Hialeah, Florida, a city about thirty miles from Miami. I was accustomed to it. Either way, she was nuts! I looked at her seriously for about ten seconds and suddenly cracked. We both laughed endlessly. We stopped, " I hope he does," Lena said wiping a tear from he eye.

We left the living room to finish our hair and make-up. I wore a thin line of eye liner to make my hazel eyes pop. Lena had always told me that the black line made my eyes look amber, almost yellow. I always told her that her eyelashes were long. Instead of being content with what God gave her, she wanted more. She wanted extra volume and longer length. She looked at me admiringly, "You look pretty, Tea Pot!" I giggled at her usual nickname for me," Thanks, Lena, you too! Get dressed, slow poke!" While Lena went to our closet, I sat at the large vanity mirror and tousled my golden brown hair with mousse and placed a small, black, pinned rose on the top, right side. Helena came up behind me dressed in a short, black, long-sleeved dress, black panty hose with a delicate pattern on the side, and kissed the top of my head. I like it better when you're this short, hun'" We giggled. "Wear those red pumps and red lipstick, doll!" I advised. Whoa. Towel guy had called me "doll".

Remembering breakfast, I asked Lena, "How about mocha frappes at Java Joanie's, eclair on the side?" I heard Lena shuffling around boxes, "Yum! That sounds delish'!" That girl was always hungry!

As we prepared to head out the door, I ran to grab my green, Michael Kors hand bag and house keys. Of course, I had to sit on the couch waiting for Lena. She forgot to switch out her belongings from her Nine West hand bag to her red, Coach messenger bag. "Let's go, Lena!" I groaned loudly. She tip toed out the door in her six inch heels, yet she barely managed to stay standing, let alone reach my normal height.

The door slammed behind her, and I locked it with the key. As we walked down the hall to the elevator, my keys decided to fall. "Crap!" It was going to be hard to pick them up from the floor in a pencil skirt. It was called a pencil for a reason! I was about to slowly bend down when I saw a ball of brown hair swift infront of me. "Let me grab those for you, Doll." He threw them at me, of course, knowing the girl that won the Never a Klutz Award, I didn't catch them. Luckily, he managed to catch them before they hit to filthy floor, once again. He smiled like it was the funniest joke ever. "Doll? You know you're supposed to catch the keys, right?" he teased. "Um, sorry, caught me off guard." Oh hubba, hubba! Whoa! What?! Did I just use that? Shake it out, Garland! I mentally shook my head. As I came back to reality, I heard him ask Lena, "Why is she shaking her head?" Snap! Did I do that in person? I mentally face palmed myself, yes, mentally this time! It was towel guy, minus the towel. I mean, he didn't have a towel on...he had on a navy blue suit with a light blue tie. Can I just say it looked mighty fine on him? He could clean up pretty well.

"Well, Doll, it's okay nonetheless," he winked and turned the corner. Lena and I looked at each other with quizzical looks on our faces. We went down the hallway to the elevator. I was just about to have to put my bag on the floor to press the down button when towel guy did it for me. "Wouldn't want your Michael Kors on the dirty floor, would we?" I stared at him wide-eyed. A guy who knew fashion? A guy who knew handbags?

Ding. The elevator opened, and a man stepped out. "After you," Towel Guy gestured with his arm stretched out towards the inside. Helena and I hurried inside. She suddenly elbowed me and mouthed, "O.M.G.!" I just simply went wide-eyed. An awkward silence fell upon us. What was heard was Helena's phone clicking while she texted speedily, and the thump of Towel Guy's shoe with the beat of the elevator squeaks, which oddly enough, remained repeating throughout the ride. Finally, he spoke up. "May I have your name, Doll?" He smiled sweetly. "I am Garland, Garland Tea." I thought I would get a positive response like, "How creative," or, "Wow, that sounds...yum!" After all, he was British, except, this wasn't Warren County. People didn't like the sweet country tea, which if you asked me, needed more sugar than it's name! He laughed so loud that it almost sounded like a cackle. "What?" A huge smile spread across my face, while he slid down the elevator wall, down the floor, filthy floor, once again. "Hmmm, sense of humor," I thought aloud. Whoops. He stopped laughing and giggled twice more. Slowly, he stood up while looking at me with the most gorgeous sea-green eyes.

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I'm going to try and put up cast members for the story, once the story line is put in place, of course. Please guys! Please comment! No one likes silent readers :( I don't even like myself when I can't comment :(