21st Century Knight

Gabriella worked round the clock every day from eight to five. Her one peaceful forget-about-work day was the blessed Sabbath (or the rare occasion when she'd get Saturdays off) and she looked forward to it like a kid waiting for Christmas. She worked hard to get a degree and finally ended up at a mediocre desk job, something she wasn’t happy about. Nevertheless, it paid the bills and gave her a sense of independence. She didn’t have a dream job yet, so until she figured out what she really wanted to do, she was happy just to keep her job until the right time came to put her passion into action. Her mother was well taken care of back home in Kansas and she had her own modest place here in New York. Every day was exactly the same as the last; no excitement, but still hectic. No adventures, but still a journey. This was the daily life of Gabriella Keller. This particular morning, she was manning the phone for customer service at Diana Cosmetics (ironic because she hated makeup) and she spent twenty-three minutes with an irate middle-aged customer who was complaining that the new 'Flawless Velvet' makeup collection didn’t make her look twenty years younger as it had shown in the advertisement. Gabriella rolled her eyes in disgust. She knew that ads were always exaggerated, but did people have to believe them with great expectations and equally great disappointments? She kept her voice smooth, doing her best to calm her customer. "I request – no I DEMAND a r****d! I was promised—" "Yes ma'am, but the advertisement mentions that the item makes you feel younger, not become younger. If there is any quality problem with the product, we will be happy to exchange the item or give you a full refund." "Forget it! I don’t want to waste my time with the return service. Everyone knows they never r****d on time! I’ll just write a bad review and then we’ll see if you advertise falsely again!" there was a slam on the other side and Gabriella winced. Oh well, that was only one lost customer out of eight hundred thousand. If all goes well, her boss won't even notice. And people like to give bad reviews more than good ones because it's easier to complain about something than to praise it. She looked at the digital clock on her desktop. Ten minutes to twelve-thirty. She could get off in a little while and use the lunch hour to shut her strained eyes for a bit. The line rang again, and she picked it up with a sigh. "Hello, hello? Is this the Diana Cosmetics Company?" Gabriella was mildly surprised to hear a man's voice. It sounded elderly and raspy, but sophisticated. "Yes sir, this is Diana Cosmetics customer service, Gabriella speaking. How may I be of assistance to you?" "I would like to inquire about your online shopping facilities. I wish to purchase a gift." "Well sir, on our webpage—" "I don’t want any computer business," he interrupted. "I'm not used to all that online stuff. I called in to ask for a purchase to be made for me." This was easy, but getting exactly what the customer wanted was not. Sensing Gabriella's hesitance, he said, "I can pay cash-on-delivery if that’s okay. I just want you to make the purchase for me since I am unable to do it myself either in person or on that web-book, or page, or whatever it’s called." "Very well, sir. Might I make suggestions for our gift selections?" "Yes, I need something for a middle-aged woman, price is not a point. I want the best and there has to be a lot of it. And I want it in three days. I can pay on delivery." Gabriella smiled into her headphones. Not bad for the old guy. He probably wanted to buy something for his wife for her birthday, and he wanted the best. He was definitely a well-bred gentleman. "Well sir, there are three limited-time collections for ladies' gift baskets. The first is a full set of lipsticks, eye shadows, and powders in varied colors popular throughout the year for casual and formal events. The second is a moisturizer bundle with our latest in creams and lotions for a healthy glow. It also comes with deluxe gold shades for richness as well as subtlety. The third is a party-wear collection usually popular with the younger generation with metallic shades, glitter, and long-lasting properties. Would you like a recommendation based on your choice?" "Yes. I like the sound of that deluxe collection, the one with gold?" "Yes sir. It is very popular for elegant looks this year." "Do you think a woman around fifty would like that?" He was rather nice to actually ask her opinion. She guessed he didn’t have a daughter to ask for an opinion and wanted it to be a surprise for his wife. "Well sir, most women try to look younger with our bright and bold colors, but our subtle gold shades in the deluxe collection enhance natural beauty and the colors don’t glare." "You make an excellent point. Very well, I'll take the second gift set. Do you gift wrap?" "Yes sir, our gift boxes come gift wrapped where you can still see the items inside." "That's fine. Put a card in it, would you, saying 'To my dearest Camille, love Walter.' And write it in gold." "Yes sir. Could you tell me the address?" "Number 12 Ashbourne, Whitley Manor." Manor, of course, Gabriella thought to herself. Definitely money. May I have your name sir?" "Walter Whiteley." She typed out the details. "That will be five ninety-nine dollars sir. Please wait a moment while I process your order." She confirmed it and spoke. "Your purchase has been confirmed, sir. You will receive your order in two days; express shipping. Your method of p*****t is cash on delivery." "Well, that was very helpful of you. Thank you. What's your name again?" "Gabriella, sir." "Thanks, Gabriella. You're one of the first helpful people I've spoken to today." Now that was straightforward praise that made her day. "You're welcome sir and thank you for shopping with us." She said before he hung up. She looked at her clock again. Ten past twelve-thirty. Well, it was worth using a few minutes of her lunch break doing service for a nice old man who even took the time to compliment her. She removed her headpiece and got up, stretching her arms with a yawn. Marci and Wanda from the next cubicles looked up. She didn't spare them a glance. She knew they had been gossiping away from the moment the clock struck twelve-thirty. "Going for lunch, Gabriella? I don’t know how you manage to stay a hundred and twelve pounds and still eat every noon." Marci said airily. For Gabriella, being a hundred and twelve pounds was a simple matter of eating healthily and not becoming lazy and procrastinating. Gabriella smirked. Marci and Wanda were constantly jealous of her with their pear-shaped figures, acquired through many glazed creamy pasta and donut lunches. "See you later ladies." She didn’t invite them and they wouldn’t have come along anyway since she often went to what they called the herbivores' habitat. Gabriella made her way down and walked past a couple of buildings to the place called Happy Lunch. She got in an unusually short queue and ordered her usual caesar salad with lemon juice dressing. She glanced at the people in the line. Mostly there were a few models and a man who was trying to lose his portly belly. She got her box and walked out. It was warm but not bright enough to wear sunglasses, which is why she looked twice at a young man with dark glasses eating a hotdog and texting on his phone while walking at the same time. She scoffed. Modern age was great, but this is why people get into accidents. And unfortunately, one was heading her way. She swerved to the right as he came closer, but too late. He was walking too fast to avoid her and smacked right into her. The hotdog, smothered in ketchup and mustard, got plastered all over Gabriella's white dress. Luckily she hadn’t worn her beige coat or that would have been ruined as well. She exclaimed with a squeal of anger. "Ugh, look what you did! Oh, my dress – ew! I'm covered in mustard and tomato sauce!" in her vexation, she hastily tried to rub the mess off her chest but it only smeared even more. The young man was surprised to see what happened and slightly disoriented by her shrieking. But sensing his mistake, he quickly slipped his phone into his pocket and tried to help her get rid of the mess. "That’s ketchup, not tomato sauce," he said calmly. "Excuse me?" She looked skeptically at him. Was he seriously pointing that out? After causing this mess? She pushed his hands away from her skirt. "Oh, leave it, you'll only make it worse! But do look where you're going, won't you? And the least you can do is apologize!" he was stung by her harshness and replied coolly. "Why didn’t you avoid me? If you were looking where you were going, you wouldn’t have bumped into me!" "Oh, of course, blame the other person. It’s always the case with men. Typical." Gabriella huffed. She was suddenly aware that passers-by were staring at the spectacle. With a cry of irritation, she walked past him to the nearest building, which was a hotel. The man, surprised that she left him standing there, quickly threw the offending hotdog in a trashcan and watched her hasten away. He noticed she dropped her bag near his feet and grabbed it before running after her. Gabriella quickly looked for the sign that said bathroom. On finding it, she entered and tried to salvage her dress. It wasn’t like it cost a lot; twenty-eight dollars worth of clothing was actually cheap for an ordinary desk job, unlike one of those secretarial jobs where you had to wear the best. But it was one of her favorites, being light and comfortable. And then a jerk absorbed on his phone comes and smears the whole thing with detestable fast food. She washed it the best she could and dried it under the hand drier, then turned to look in the mirror. The damage was done; red and yellow patches all across the skirt made her let out another groan in frustration. There goes her good mood. She walked out and smacked right into someone right outside the bathroom door. She began to apologize. "Oh I'm sorry I didn't—" she stopped. It was the same jerk she bumped into earlier. "You again! What do you want? Haven’t you done enough?" she scoffed in irritation. He finally removed his dark glasses and looked at her. He was tall, with broad shoulders and a slender waistline. He wore a blue shirt and a glossy suit without a tie. He had dark amber-colored hair with deep blue eyes that had a slightly languid look. His nose was straight and extremely proportionate to the long pointed-shaped face and contoured jaws; his lips were symmetrically shaped like the rest of his face. Overall, if Gabriella hadn't been so mad, she might have agreed that he was devastatingly attractive. "You forgot this when you ran away." He held out her bag. She had completely forgotten it in her humiliation! At least he had the decency to bring it to her. She took it gruffly, intending to walk away, but he caught hold of her arm rather firmly. "Wait a bit; don't leave all huffy, will you? It was an accident." "I see you still haven't apologized yet." She already disliked his manners. "And you haven’t thanked me for returning your bag. I guess a lack of manners is something we both have in common." He paused but continued before she could retaliate. "I don't think you'd accept an apology now anyway. Besides, I want to know if you intend to sue me for damages or something." That's what he wanted to know? Rather than saying a simple sorry, he wanted to know if she was going to sue for a silly mishap? She scoffed. "It's not a felony, you know, and I'm not that cavalier." She returned stiffly. His lips twitched on one side. "So you're admitting you are somewhat cavalier? After all, you did make a fuss over a little thing." The insolence made her cheeks burn. Gabriella blinked back her incredulity. "Do you like to get the worst of people? Does it give you pleasure to act narcissistic?" She asked. He shrugged. "How much does your dress cost?" he asked, unnerved by her outburst. "Really! That's what's going through your mind? A settlement? You really need to learn little manners. And don't think that money can solve every problem. It may work on gold-diggers, but it sure won't work on me!" she was seething now, and she blurted out exactly what she thought. She had to get away from this. Then she realized the reason she couldn’t get away was that he was still holding onto her arm. "Let go, will you?" "Look, I'm trying to make things right," he said, even if you are a stubborn melodramatic diva, he thought. "You still haven't answered my question." "I made myself clear, didn't I? I won't take your money." "What makes you think I'm going to offer you money?" "Then why else would you want to know the cost of my dress?" he looked thoughtfully at her. "If it is as expensive as you make it out to be, I'll replace it for you. If it's just a cheap knockoff, well then you made a fuss over nothing." He was certainly not helping her calm down. He clearly didn’t understand that it was her dignity, not just the dress that was affronted. She pulled away. "Forget it, and I hope I never see you again!" She walked out of the hotel as fast as she could without appearing disheveled, turning back to make sure he wasn't following again. Conscious that lunch hour was almost over, a little shut-eye was impossible, there was barely any time to eat lunch, she hurried to the pantry intending to eat alone as she always did. But unfortunately, half the department found the pantry a perfect place to stand and gossip while they sipped coffee. She hastily turned and went to the changing room. She sat on the bench and ate quickly. Then she rummaged through her locker for a sweater or t-shirt that wouldn’t look too awkward over her dress. She pulled on a blue sweater, aware that it was too hot but consoling herself that at least the stain was hidden. Back in her seat, she had to face sarcastic smiles from her co-workers. "Gabriella, do you have a cold?" "Or is it a new fashion statement, sweaters in summer?" Gabriella shut her eyes for a moment to bite back the cutting answer that rose to her lips. She then pretended to take a call, knowing that they wouldn’t talk when a customer was on the line. So far, this day hadn’t been the best of the week, but at least there was a change in the mundane flow of activities. She at least hoped she had seen the last of that obnoxious, self-absorbed jerk.