Gres-pres O - Espresso - Start Your Morning With Greatness. I take a look at the label of my new espresso machine. If that isn't the weirdest name for an espresso machine, or any machine for that matter. My new espresso machine that I plan on giving back to Perth. I wonder why he'd give me it.
I give Perth a call - ring ring ring- no answer.
Perth. Guess I'll see him at work.
I feed Lira the leftover tuna, head outside as I step in the puddles with my yellow raincoat and rain boots on.
Batt for Life written on the 12th floor of the silver-greyish skyscraper. I usually take the stairs to hit the everyday target of 10k steps but I'm late today because of the whole Perth and espresso charade.
"Hey, girl!" An overly enthusiastic girl with a very familiar voice greets me. "Mish, why did you give Perth my number?".
"Why not, girl? He likes you. He told me so. And I can tell he's a nice guy. We really bonded over the song Life on Mars. Sailors fighting on the dancefloor-"
"He's only been here one day and you can tell he's a nice guy already?" I interrupt her singing Bowie's song.
"Yes, I have a natural instinct for these things. Did he call you? What did he say?"
"Uh-hum girls!" We hear Mr. Pristin, the manager of Batt for Life, clear his throat. "We are having a quick meeting after 5 in the hallway in Batt 05. And, Ciara, please bring the report of all the Alkaline and Silver Oxide Batteries that were sold in the last week." Being a junior manager and documenting batteries can be beer and skittles, for sure.
I wonder if Perth will be there, or has he arrived already?
"By the way, Mish, what does Perth do here?" I ask, trying my best to not sound intrusive.
"Oh, he didn't tell? He's just helping out Mr. Pristin. He's Mr. Pristin's nephew. He's working on selling those rare batteries. Kind of like working as a middleman."
Huh, they look nothing alike. Mr. Pristin has blonde curly hair, tanned skin with the darkest-shade of eyes and thin lips, while Perth, he's something else. Jet-black hair with porcelain skin and sparkling lavender eyes, sclera so white and lips so red and full. It's not like he's Mr. Pristin's dad so I guess it's alright.
"Hm, okay." I say as we both head to Batt 05.
I see around 15 different employees including Mr Pristin, Misha and I inside the dark, steel covered room with a blue icing-like chandelier that covers the entire ceiling. As I search for a chair, I see a 6 foot figure, and undoubtedly the biggest guy around in the block smiling at me. That smile was warm, inviting almost. He definitely looks bigger than the last time I saw him. Did he hit the workouts harder? I wonder. But even then, it's almost impossible to get this big this quick. Maybe he's on roids, I think. I just have to be careful not to piss him off or I could be the victim of his roid rage. I smile back but I bet he can see the nervousness around my eyes. After the 15 minute meeting encircling the battery sales and the plans for the coming week, I wait for everyone to leave the room so I can talk to Perth about the whole espresso thing. I touch the back of his grey shirt and feel his right shoulder blade. Huh, it's the first time I've ever touched him, and he feels surprisingly warm, throbbing almost. After a few seconds, I feel him pulsing like crazy. What was that? I wonder. My touch seems to have caught him off guard as he quickly steps back. To avoid the awkward pause, I abruptly ask him when I can return the espresso to his home.
'It's all yours, Ciara". He says with a friendly demeanour.
"Um, no, I appreciate it but I don't need one". As much as I want to have a shot of espresso brewed automatically and taste its bitter yet gratifying essence, I will have to say no.
"Guess, I will just give it back to the store then and please note that I will not be taking the money back. " His face is glistening with anger. But even then, his anger isn't hideous like most people, it's beautiful.
"Are you threatening me, Perth Whatever-your-last-name is?" I ask him playfully.
"Yes, Miss Ciara i'll-tell-you-my-last-name-if-you-tell-me-yours".
"It's Lisbon." I say looking straight into his eyes.
"Cobalt". He says smiling for a split-second then quickly returning to his poker face. I look at his V-taper back as he heads out, and I recall the pulsating sensation I felt when I touched him. Was it a hallucination of some sort like the one I had the first time I looked into his eyes with the stars and galaxies appearing out of thin air? Is there something wrong with me or him? Or is everything just alright and I just need to get another cup of coffee and maybe a bagel to rid myself of a potential low blood sugar?
Cobalt. Like the battery type. Coincidence? I squint my eyes trying to find if there's possibly any deeper meaning to it. A guy working in Batt for Life and his last name happens to be Cobalt.
Guess Im taking my first shot of Gres-pres O.