Thread: Going Down? (Traveler & Charlotte)

Profitable. Profitable? Profitable? came the soft chime of Olives question, her head tilting some as she considered just what the hell that could possibly mean. She had no context. No clue where he worked, what he did, or just how profitable his day had been on account of it. She caught her reflection in the mirrored surface of the elevator looking all too much like a curious kitten upon listening to the jingle of a bell. Her mouth puckered slightly and she straightened up, determined not to lose more face than she already had. Honestly, this woman was a bundle of stomach-butterflies and jumbled words around handsome-upstairs-neighbor-guy. Shed worked on and dated plenty of men before.. why was this one any different? Because this social interaction was that which didnt require both sides to be mutually polite? Because he was willingly doing so? Because he had nothing to gain by being nice to her? He was smart. He had to be. Knew not to shit where he ate. She was of no interest to him. She knew he likely toyed with her just for kicks. To see the blush flutter across her cheeks and every-day words tumble clumsily out of her mouth. And she still couldnt stop herself. God damn him. And just as the woman was starting to form a backbone, the vibration of a phone distracted and derailed. She sighed softly and shook her head, offering an apologetic sort of smile of her own when he apologized for the interruption. She shouldnt have been distracting him. He was a busy man. Probably. Her crystal blues wandered across the ceiling, across the reflection of alternate-universe couple across from them and almost squeaked when she thought that maybe for a moment there, he was going to reach for her bottom. But.. nope, just the button. The fucking elevator button. She rolled her eyes at herself and tried to force herself to relax. A nod at his verbal apology, a quiet laugh at the mention of his girlfriend and her apparent habit of gossiping about her coworkers. Ah, yes.. unfortunately. Olive laughed again, easily. Vanessa immediately came to mind. I have the rather unlucky position of being directly in front of one who has quite a mouth on her.. she sighed yet again, this one somehow expressing the days tiresome interaction with the self-proclaimed tv-star. Pretty, though. Olive tacked on quickly, instantly regretting complaining over her one stable client. It wasnt in her nature to badmouth. For the most part, Olive Dallas was an all-around goody-two-shoes. She kept her nose out of other peoples business, kept her own private and safely tucked away, miraculously managed to pay her bills on time, watched her elderly neighbors cats when she was away and put the mail wrongfully delivered to her into the right slot. Aside from that, she lived a fairly ordinary life. Not that the man would ever care to know, or know about it. This elevator ride was just a small, happy little pocket of make-believe before she got out into the real-world of her hallway. Which was coming up fairly quickly. At least he almost touched her butt today.. so that was pretty neat. The elevator stopped and dinged, Olive gripped her things and tossed a pleasant smile towards the strangers direction. Ill see you later, she said by way of good-bye. It was better than a have a good weekend! or a nice talking to you!. Plus, it gave her something to look forward to. With that said, Olive bounced out of the elevator, down the hallway and into her apartment. Hopefully later would come sooner than.. well, later.