Miss Denmark

proposition

Friday, the following day, I went to work to normal time. I had made a decent amount of money by selling my stock, and I had bought new ones which would probably earn me more money.

At work Trisha became part of the advertisement. We had it put together, and it was designed in a way where the graphic was what needed to be done now. I was graphic designer more so than anything else, but with those classes I would attend, I would also be educated to come up with the ideas. So that was pretty awesome to me.

I had lunch with Juan from the office, we had both brought our lunches.

I was off around five.

The elevators were packed so I skipped the first one coming by before entering the next. I liked to breathe too.

There were people in it, including charcoal gray suit. He looked up when the elevator came to a halt.

I felt trapped because he was looking directly at me.

The guard put his hand between the sliding doors so they didn't close.

I blinked and stepped into the elevator. With my back to both men, it was okay. He had very blue eyes, not that it should matter.

We reached the lobby. On the nine floors, between my floor and the lobby, more people entered the elevator. I was standing against the back wall next to the guard. I left the elevator close to last. Charcoal gray suit had to hurry, apparently, because he was one of the first one to exit the elevator.

I walked out, smiled and wished the guard a nice weekend.

The heat was killing me.

"Excuse me," a voice remarked.

I looked to the side at the person who'd addressed me. It was charcoal gray suit. It looked as if he wanted to say something, so I stopped in my steps.

He moved closer to me so we didn't have to shout to hear one another. "What does it take for you to have sex with me?" he asked.

Which crap book was this? "It's not going to happen," I replied.

He narrowed his eyes as if this was a challenge.

"If you ask me again, I'll report you for sexual harassment," I added in a low voice. I had learned to answer back.

He slowly shook his head. "That won't happen," he said and left.

Which part? That he wouldn't ask again, or that I wouldn't report him? I watched him get into a black car with tinted windows.

That was just weird.

I left the building and went home with my bag. I changed into different clothes, so I was wearing a dress. I was meeting two friends from high school that coincidentally was in New York. It was dinner and then we would split up. They had other friends they would meet up with before partying. I had never been a party person. I had gone clubbing but it wasn't me.

The dress went to just above my knees. Yeah, that was fine!

I went back outside and found the restaurant they'd chosen.

"Christina!" Mette and Celia, my high school friends. We hadn't talked in ages but a reunion was always a good thing.

I smiled. "Hi," I said. Danish. Wow, that was weird.

We hugged and went in. I had booked the table now I had an American phone number.

I sat against the wall.

"What are you doing?" Celia asked.

"Advertisement developer and graphic designer," I answered."

"What?!" Mette said. "In English?"

I nodded.

"You are twenty-three years old, you are an advertisement developer and graphic designer in New York." Celia summarized.

I nodded. Now, I had taken a college education in America because Dad paid, and I had taken intense classes during high school so even though I only had a bachelor in America, it opened doors. I had worked a bit in Denmark during the summer, and that was it.

"What are you up to now?" I asked. Tenth grade, which is optional in Denmark, wasn't something I had done. They had, and they were having another sabbatical year. Still.

"Not much," Mette said. "I'm staring this January, she continued. "So I'm getting somewhere."