Orange

Six

I made it to work the next day, miraculously enough. As I waited in my booth, the girls next to me continued their little game.

"You know, Sandra made four thousand in sales, yesterday," one girl said, knowing full well that she was loud enough for me to hear. I remained silent. Another girl spoke up.

"Yeah, she's really a superstar. I heard she even got with Mr. Carl Rutherford."

"No way, I don't believe it," yet another girl joined in.

I let out I sigh. I really didn't want to hear any of this, but there it continued, the two girls having a conversation with my booth in the center of it all.

"Sandra may have a pretty rockin' body," my main aggressor laughed, "but I think that my sales are gonna skyrocket today. Some good old red lipstick, black lace, and a bit of fake innocence always gets the highest bidder."

That was Laura. Laura was a fucking bitch. I could feel her brown-eyed stare as she glared daggers at me from two booths down, layers of glass being the only reason she wasn't whispering into my ear.

"But looks like Clementine's already got the dumb-girl look down pat."

Girls burst into laughter.

I sat still. Hands on my knees, ready for the doors to open.

Once the doors did just that, the girls fell into their regular routines. Some bit their lips and beckoned people closer. Others looked away, as if embarrassed by it all.

I kept a calm composure, staring out into the crowd and waited for someone to catch my eye.

A few hours later, I was pretty tired. I had pretty much back-to-back buyers for the past four hours, and my body was feeling it. My legs throbbed and my skin was covered head to toe in love marks from my last buyer. But my eyes kept staring. Hands on my knees. Waiting.

A pair of familiar green eyes caught my attention. He stood there yet again, hands in his pockets as he pressed his credit card into my slot, buying me for the hour. A few girls glanced over at this, as well. It wasn't often people bought the same Blank twice, unless they were someone high end like Sandra. But nonetheless, I greeted him in the loading room and guided him down to our reserved space. He let out a long whistle.

"Damn. You look like you've been through hell today, sweetheart."

I shrugged, smoothing down my skirt that rested just a bit too high on my thighs. He definitely noticed but looked away just as I turned to face him.

"It's nothing. Just another day's work."

"Do you like it here?"

I laughed, brushing away a curly strand of hair from my face.

"It pays well."

The man just laughed, getting what I meant and leaning back on his forearms as he gazed up at me.

"No need to hide it. Hell, I'd never work in a place like this. Then again, I'm one of the lucky ones."

We were silent for a few moments. It wasn't an awkward silence, no; I guess you could say that his presence was a bit comforting to me. So, we just sat there, not looking at anything in particular nor thinking of anything in particular.

"So..." he hummed, "what's your name?"

"If you really wanted to know, you would've asked me last time."

He laughed so hard that he had to hold his sides.

"Okay, you got me there. Sorry—I got a little distracted. An hour's not a very long time to get to know somebody."

I frowned. What's with this guy? Doesn't he realize where he is? He looked up at the ceiling, where a giant mirror resided. He visibly cringed at it.

"I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours," he said, catching my attention once again.

"Why do you want to know so badly?"

"I don't really know. Guess I'm just curious more than anything."

I sighed.

"... Clementine."

"Clementine... what?"

"I'm not telling you my last name," I crossed my arms, earning yet another chuckle from him. He grinned at me, an irresistibly bright smile resting in his face.

"Orion."

I nodded. Just as I was getting comfortable in the silence between us, I heard him begin to rummage through his jean pocket. Without too much issue, he pulled out his phone, pressing a few things before offering the device to me. It was fancy, definitely an expensive brand.

"What're you—"

"Can I ask," he said, a serious tone of voice suddenly falling perfectly between his lips, "for your phone number?"

"Huh? That's... against company policy. We're usually not supposed to meet with buyers outside of the Warehouse."

"It'll be our little secret. I won't tell if you won't. Besides, how many other blindingly handsome Blanks come waltzing up to you on a daily basis?"

I snickered, falling into his trap. He gave me another one of his signature crooked smiles, apparently pleased with my laughter. I stared at the device for a few moments. Well... it certainly wouldn't hurt. And if he turns out to be an axe maniac, I'll just die. No biggie.

I typed in my digits into the space provided, along with my first name. He happily took his phone back, raising it a bit towards me.

"Can I get a picture?"

"What? No."

"Come on," he cooed, "Everyone on my phone has a contact image."

"I said no," I repeated, a little sterner this time. He took the hint, smiling with satisfied eyes as he pocketed the device once again.

"Alright, alright. I give. Maybe next time."

The chime went off. Orion seemed almost disappointed, glancing at the silver watch that hung from his wrist.

"Ah man," he sighed. "Told you that an hour's not enough time. I'll text you later, then?"

"Um... alright—" was about all I managed to say before he pulled me into a deep embrace. It was so sudden; I couldn't think to avoid it. I just let him sit there, holding me in his arms as he pressed his chin into my shoulder.

"Thanks," he whispered into my ear, sending shivers down my spine at the depth of his chocolate-covered voice. How had I not noticed its power before? "Really."

With that, he let me go, gave me another cocked smile before walking out of the room, already knowing where to exit. Yet again, I was left sitting there, still staring out into the nothing from the shock of it all. I couldn't figure him out, not one bit. Orion was definitely a character, a force to be reckoned with.