Carrie Dawson was dressed regularly in her dirt yellow blouse and a grey slim-cut long skirt that you could still see behind the glass counter she had to sit in and smile at everybody that passed her small stall. She was not only a front desk manager, but also a stewardess of the third floor of Allura. Her job wasn't of any challenge- She had to give people directions around her floor, that basically had two big conference rooms and hundred cubicles that were spread out in a huge open hall. She had thanked her stars when she had found out she was given duty for the third floor, and not the fourteenth where most of the action happened. It was a floor with five confined studios, frequently visited and unnecessarily hard to navigate. Carrie could show people the way from behind her desk, which was why wearing five inches high stilettos was never a problem unless she had to do a walk of shame from Shawn's apartment that he had leased under a friend's name - his secret sex home, with young women whose faces better not be linked with his.
Carrie, as Shawn had told her, was his third; which was two years ago. Now Shawn was sailing in triple digits. He was never without a girl in his life. But, he had Carrie's number saved and called her whenever he had to stop by Allura for a music video and so far Shawn had eight of them in his career of two years, that got Carrie eight nights of meaningless sex with a man who every teenager in the country was dying to even get a glimpse of. God only knows how many times Carrie had prayed every time she had heard about an artist wanting to collaborate with Shawn that he would say yes and then come to Allura. Shawn always would refuse and say he preferred solo albums, crushing Carrie's dreams of seeing him naked. But, today her prayers were answered. She quickly pressed a button on her Bluetooth headset and said, 'I have Mr. Shawn Rayo arriving shortly in conference room A. He is in the ground floor right now' to her boss who was directing a baby photo shoot in the ever busy fourteenth floor.
'Take him to B instead. A is being set up for Harry Mathews and his team.' Her boss had replied.
A tiny, cookie sized mirror had been placed right behind her computer screen and on the small see-through glass barricade that made her feel like her desk was more important than others who had just a wooden table without walls. Carrie needed the mirror always at sight. She had a bad, very bad habit of checking herself in it for every other minute of the day. Mascara was on point, dark red lipstick had no smudges in the corners, and the black-golden eye shadow was giving her tapering uniform a vibrant twist. Carrie didn't look twenty-two behind those colors. But, she had yet to realize she had begun to go overboard with her recently gifted by her best friend make-up kit.
'Hello?' A husky but soft voice startled her.
Carrie looked up to see a girl in a brown leather jacket, jet-black denims tastefully hugging her shapely legs and a white T-shirt that said 'Diva' on her breasts with silver. 'Yes, how may I assist you today?' Carrie used her signature line in the same haughty voice that she used for girls that she thought were prettier that her. For gorgeous guys it usually went like, 'Hey there, what can I help you with?' with a mischievously tempting smile.
'I'm here to see a Mr. Jacob WestWood. I was told I would find him on this floor. Is he here?' The girl asked fervently, maintaining a steady eye contact with her big, sharp brown eyes. Carrie flinched when the girl's glare became harder to meet.
'He is here but, he is going to be in a meeting now so you'll have to wait.' Carrie said, pointing to her side where a set of six chairs was giving an impression of a waiting lounge. As the girl started to search something in her sling pouch, Carrie wondered why there was no make-up on her face - 'Maybe she doesn't know how to do it. But if I had her skin, I wouldn't need any make-up either. But, this is showbiz; you have to hide your flaws. Maybe that nose could use some contouri-'
'I have this appointment mail.' The girl said as she handed over her phone to Carrie.
'Hmm, give me a moment and I'll see what I can do.' Carrie responded, unknowingly rolling her eyes at her phone. She hoped that the girl hadn't noticed, but Carrie could feel her smiling from above. She wanted to get rid of her as soon as possible and keep herself free when Shawn arrived. She pressed a button again on her headset to reach the other end.
It's okay. She's with me.' A voice trumpeted from far. 'Itika Jones, am I correct?' Dina Rayo asked as she came closer to Carrie's desk.
'Yes, Ma'am.' Itika replied.
'Ma'am?' Dina took a step back from the girl as if the word 'ma'am' visibly repelled her. She eyed her up from head to toe and smiled sweetly, one that didn't touch her eyes.
'Please, call me Dina. I'm Shawn's sister and also his manager.' Dina replied, again in a sweet tone but the warning in the voice was clear. Carrie shivered despite not the one to be addressed.
Out of the corner of her eye, Carrie saw Itika nod quickly and tuned to Dina with a beaming face with the mention of her brother's name. Dina gave her a quick and warning look and turned back to Itika, 'Please come with me. Shawn will be here any minute. He is downstairs talking to a dealer to pawn his A6.' Dina took Itika away from the front desk with the jovial energy of a teenager and into an elevator right behind the waiting area. No hint of all that tension from a moment ago. 'You know how it is with young boys. They have to make a thousand rash decisions before they get their shit together.'
Itika failed to say anything to her comment. She simply smiled in response.
'God, you are stunning! No wonder my brother wanted you in this video... Do you have any experience in acting?'
A couple walked into the elevator at the eighth floor. Itika could tell they were together by the way the old man's hand was on her hips. It made her uncomfortable. But the couple didn't seem to notice it. She was about to answer Dina's question when she heard her say, 'Don't mind these two. Morgan here has recently got married to his assistant. It was a private ceremony I heard. Only close family and friends.' Dina had aimed to strike more at the couple with her sarcastic narrative than introducing them to Itika.
'You have to stop telling people I was his assistant, Dinnie.' The woman in her thirties threw Dina a dirty look and went back into her husband's embrace.
'Alright, you see Itika, after Morgan promoted his assistant to a post of a personal buyer for the clients, she became his mistress.'
'That's so not called for, Dina!' Morgan shot a darting glance at her. 'I heard you were sober.'
'Clearly a backlash.' Emily giggled while her head never left Morgan's plump chest.
'I'm just kidding, guys. Gotta show the kids the many colors of Allura.' Dina winked at all three of them. None of them responded with the same intensity of her thoughtless joke.
'Sure. See you later.' Morgan said as he pulled Emily out of the elevator door into the eleventh floor.
The little incident had confused Itika so much that she didn't know when would be the right time to tell Dina that she had never acted before on camera. Dina was young. She didn't look like she was even thirty. On first glance, she appeared strict and professional, had the correct boss-like walk, wore the right kind of intermediating clothes and carried the right suit case. But when she talked, it didn't look like she was representing a sensation like Shawn Rayo.
'Ah, Shawn's calling.' Dina said and raised her eyebrows in amusement. 'Hello brother, how much are you getting for your stupid car?'
***
'Spank me before I start thinking it's not real.' Carrie said, carelessly louder when she spotted Shawn's glowing pale skin as the sensory door slid open. He was casually dressed in a beige cotton pant and a loosely fitting faded blue T-shirt, its sleeves purposefully folded to give a clear peak of his scrumptious biceps, as if trying to play with Carrie's fixation with them. She wasn't let to touch them as much as she would have liked, or have them wrapped around her when she was the smaller spoon, but that dream was yet to come true; to be cuddled by Shawn Rayo.
'A note higher and you could see a solid six months behind bars.' Shawn replied calmly as he walked closer to the front-desk, but it was warning enough for her. The non-disclosure agreement that she had to sign the first time they were together had her shut for at least thirty years, she was free to tell the world after the term had ended; a wicked clause that had immensely aroused her. Having a secret pact with Shawn was a memory she was going to remember from her death bed.
'Oops! My Bad! But how have you been?' Carrie asked with a notorious nod that meant to really ask, 'when do you want me with my clothes off?'
'I have been great. Tell Jacob I am here.' Shawn's serious voice was all business today.
'One sec. He is still with the photo shoot. That baby just won't shut up.' Carrie responded, trying to sound charming but her poor choice of words negated her attempt, even her notorious smile wasn't working.
'Hi.' Carrie spoke into her mic, 'Shawn is here… umm… no. Okay. Okay. Sure. I'll let him know.' She pushed her microphone above her head and said, 'Jacob needs about fifteen minutes to wrap up the shoot. He asked if you could wait in his office?'
Shawn Sighed. 'Hmm… get me a hot chocolate and cream on top.'
'Done. And, get me an invite to your party and you on top.' Carrie burst into laughter but her smudgy eyes never left looking at his direction.
Shawn ignored her comment. 'I'll mail you the guest list, you can add yourself there.' He took a step away from the glass wall, and then added, 'You should not let your baby sister do that to your face.'
'Ahhh!' Carrie made a sad, but playful face, 'I'll make sure she knows that.'
Shawn turned to his left and walked away toward the elevator leaving Carrie check herself out again in her favorite mirror, only this time there the admiration had evolved into hate.