Beneath The Silence

My high heels clicked on the polished floor as I entered the dealership. Stopping off at the reception desk in the front of the showroom, I grabbed the paperwork out of the wire basket with my name on it. I smiled and nodded at our receptionist. I started flipping through the pages of reports and numbers that needed to be entered into the dealership’s system when I got to my desk at the back of the building.

The new cars all sat sleek and shiny, waiting for people to buy them. The room smelled faintly of car polish and leather. Little by little, people are coming in, ready to start the day. The sales guys all looked sleek in their suits and professionally groomed hair. They hovered close to the coffee pot, trying to get their caffeine fix before the customers started arriving. Each was vying for the first sale of the day.

“Were you able to close the deal on the Mazda 6?” I asked Richard, looking at him from across the top of the oak desk where I stood.

“It’s in the bag!” he said as a glow lit up his face. He was our newest sales guy, and I could tell he was going to quickly be one of the best at the rate he was going with sales. When they sell, I look good. I was pleased with this most recent hire. Richard was closing sales and pushing financing quickly for new-car buyers, as he had been doing his whole life.

“Good work,” I said as I headed to my office at the back. I shoved open the door that had my name on it with the words “Dealership Manager” written underneath with my hip and made my way to my chair on the other side of the cherry oak desk.

My office was not fancy, and it didn’t have any personal touches aside from a couple of pieces of art I had purchased. There was a bookshelf along the wall that held a couple of books that were mostly about management, getting people to trust you, and car sales. If you looked around my office for pictures of a loving couple or happy kids that most of the other women littered their desks with, you would not find them. I had nothing that showed the life I lived.

The receptionist once commented on the lack of personal photos in my office, and I just shrugged it off, offering no explanation. Melinda’s desk had pictures of smiling kids and an adoring husband. When I complimented her family, she said, “Someday I will have that too.” I couldn’t explain to her that it wasn’t in my plans. As someone with a family, she couldn’t imagine not wanting one.

As I sat down, I gave my computer mouse a wiggle to wake it from sleep mode, since I only ever shut my computer down occasionally. The rotating dealership logo froze on the screen. After a few more wiggles and pressing a couple of keys on the keyboard, I knew it wasn’t going to move. Cursing under my breath, I forced the computer to shut down by pressing the lit-up button on the tower under my desk. As I waited for it to reload, I started scrawling my signature on the latest sales transactions and financing paperwork. My computer was almost entirely restarted when it suddenly went blank.

“Damn it,” I said as I reached for my phone. Pressing three on speed dial, I waited while the phone rang. I was not very computer savvy, and when there was a problem, I always had to call the head of our IT department to come help me. Since he was the only guy in the IT department for all four dealerships, there was no guarantee that I would get him right away. It all depended on where he was. I could feel the work delay building in me as I didn’t want to be here past closing.

“Broke your computer again,” came the gentle-sounding voice of Marcus when he picked up his cellphone on the third ring.

“You got me,” I teased back.

“On my way,” and the call ended with a click.

I never dealt with Marcus much; as long as my computer equipment was working, I didn’t see him. Sure, I saw him around the dealership and knew he laughed and joked with our head of finance, Rob, but otherwise I knew little about this man.

It’s not that I didn’t notice him; I definitely had. He was a good-looking guy in a rustic sort of way, and each time he was around, my stomach tightened. I chalked it up to nervousness around people I don’t know well. Despite my professional and rugged exterior, I preferred to keep people at arm’s length. It doesn’t mean I wasn’t interested in who Marcus was, it just meant I don’t do personal relationships, friendship or otherwise.

I tapped my pen on the desk as I waited for Marcus to come to save me so I could do my reports. With a quick tap, he walked in looking as ratty as usual. A humble man from a small town, he rarely paid any attention to office etiquette when it came to his looks. He wore torn jeans and t-shirts most days with the unruliest head of hair I had ever seen. No one seemed to mind his wardrobe as he worked hard and knew his stuff. I could appreciate a man who was true to himself.

“What seems to be the problem?” he asked as he came around the side of the desk.

“If I knew, I wouldn’t need you, would I?” I joked as he snagged the mouse and tried to jiggle it. “I do, however, know enough to do that.” I deadpanned as he gave me this wry look.

He was a quiet man who joked most of the time when he did talk. He never went out with the rest of the management, never joined company events. He didn’t have his own office as he floated between the dealerships. If they ever did give him his own office, I’m sure it would be here, as he hung out here using the empty boardroom or an empty office when he had work to do. He was a mystery, and I was drawn to him. It was almost like there was this invisible pull to him that I could not shake every time he was around.

Marcus chewed his lower lip as he pulled the tower out from under my desk and proceeded to open it. Not being able to do much with my computer not working, I sat back and watched him work. He was too thin for his height, yet he managed to fold himself into a kneeling position on the floor that looked ridiculously uncomfortable to me. Despite how thin he was, you could see muscles bulging under his shirt sleeves.

He was on my speed dial, which meant that I called him constantly when things went wrong with my system. I don’t know much about computers, and what I did know was what I learned myself through trial and error. I never owned a computer, and only learned to use one enough to do my job or scroll the news. I wasn’t interested in knowing more about them than that. I grew up without a computer and did just fine.

I get why we use them, though. If I had to type these reports on a typewriter, I would forever be correcting mistakes and starting over, which would make the process so much slower. That was something I did know, how to type. It was a required course when I was in school. Everyone from grade four onwards had to learn to type, and we did it on a typewriter.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not anti-computer. I even own a laptop and an iPad. I get the convenience of owning the latest technology, and I do enjoy how quickly you can find information when you type a search word or phrase into popular search engines. I could also spend countless hours watching feel-good videos on various sites. I never got into the trend of social media and never understood sharing your life for the world to see.

Returning my thoughts to my work, I wondered how long it would take for him to fix my system. I had work to do, but I didn’t mind waiting even though I knew I would have to work late. I couldn’t explain it, but I always enjoyed having Marcus around. There was just something about him.

I always found it fascinating to watch Marcus’s work. This man always looked tired, and his weathered face told me he had a hard life. He was a gentle soul who smoked too much, but he sure knew his way around a computer, and his nimble fingers went through the components, finding the problem.

What struck me most about him was those eyes. He had the most piercing blue eyes I had ever seen. Depending on the light, they went from a cold blue to a light blue and even into aqua when the sun hit them just right. Yet, it wasn’t the colour that drew me to his eyes; it was what was behind them. This man has secrets. I was the last person on earth to judge a man by his secrets. We all have secrets. I never looked at someone and assumed they didn’t have skeletons in their closet. On the contrary, I always assumed they did. My assumptions were deeply rooted in my own past. The very things I don’t talk about.

Knowing that I don’t want my secrets to come to the surface, I respect Marcus for his. I know whatever makes him look older than his 34 years is his to keep. I am not one to pry, and I am not one to judge. What mattered to me, as the person who manages this branch of the dealership, was that Marcus does his job, and he does it very well. I never questioned his ability to do his job, as he was very dependable.

I tapped my fingers on my desk as I got lost in my thoughts. I didn’t realize it until Marcus’ gentle hand landed on mine to silence my incessant tapping. This lightning-like feeling went through me as his hand connected with mine. It was a confusing feeling because I haven’t been attached to anyone in a really long time. The connection of his hand on mine was both comforting and striking. The way he quickly withdrew his hand made me think the connection I just felt was not all in my head. Marcus turned his attention back to my computer.

“Sorry, habit,” I explained while apologizing for my annoyance.

He chuckled as he continued his work. A few minutes later, he stood up and turned on my computer. “There you go. It’s fixed. Try not to break it for the rest of today because I’m off to the Chrysler location.” Marcus said, talking about the other dealership owned by the same man who owned this one. It was across town, so I knew that meant that I would not see Marcus again today. He didn’t drive and only went between dealerships by bus. That tidbit of information disappointed me, and I could not understand why.

He stood back, watching me work for a few minutes before leaving my office with a nod, satisfied. I assumed he was waiting to make sure my computer didn’t crash the second he left. A certain sadness engulfed me as he walked away, and I couldn’t put my finger on it.

Taking control of my mind, I quickly got lost in the tasks awaiting me today. It was tedious, almost monotonous work, but having started here 10 years ago, I was proud of my accomplishments. I started at the very bottom of the rung in the office. I was the assistant to the secretary. Basically, I just answered phones and made phone calls, generating leads for the sales team, and took notes for the others. Over the years, I learned not only my job but the jobs of those around me, and when the time was right, I applied for positions above me one step at a time. Marcus started two years ago as our IT manager and, basically, the only man who knew anything about computers in not just this dealership but all four of them.

Sure, others could do basic computer troubleshooting, but Marcus was like one with the computer. He could look at it and pinpoint a problem in minutes. He was very attuned to his job.

He was asked a few times to put on a dress shirt and look more presentable, and he would for a bit, but then revert to his torn jeans and T-shirts. He was so good at working with computers that the company’s owners and all the management staff tended to look the other way and just let him be. We all knew that we would never find someone as good as he for the pay he was getting. It was for that reason that when we spoke about company raises at the quarterly meeting, I would side with those who thought the IT department deserved more than he was getting. In my mind, Marcus was indispensable, as he kept the entire dealership running smoothly.

Looking around my office at the bookshelves on the far wall and the window that looked out over the shiny new cars in the lot, I had to force my mind away from Marcus again so I could get my day’s work done. I knew if I didn’t get moving, I would be here much later than I wanted to be.

With a sigh, I turned my attention back to the monotony of reports that lay before me. I enjoyed my job, but some days I just wasn’t into it. Today was one of those days. It took great effort to focus on my work, but soon I fell into the familiar rhythm.

The day went by quickly, and I was glad when it came time to leave, only an hour later than I had planned. I made my way out and hopped into my Mazda 3, which I had purchased at a discount a year ago. It was a cute car in a soft blue, with a hatchback trunk and a smooth black leather interior. The power windows, doors, heated seats, and remote start made this car a dream to own, especially in the winter when the weather in Ottawa could turn bitingly cold.

Arriving at my condo, I greeted Ted, the doorman, and made my way to the elevator, punching 7 on the panel. I bought this condo four years ago, when I was promoted to dealership manager. I was anxious to put down some roots, and a house just didn’t seem right. Placing my key in the door of my sleek, loft-style condo, I felt exhaustion roll over me in waves, and all I wanted was to relax for the evening.

My job wasn’t physically taxing, but it was mentally taxing. I spent my days writing reports, checking on the staff, and putting out the occasional fire among the employees. We didn’t all get along, but we did have to work together. Luckily, the team here at Mazda got along quite well. The biggest clashes came within the sales team when someone felt another team member had scooped their sale.

Stepping through the door, I was once again struck by the beauty of the wall of windows at the other end of the loft. The open concept floor plan made it easy to see the entire apartment from the doorway. To my left was the kitchen. The beautiful white oak cabinets and stainless-steel appliances gave the kitchen an elegant, modern look. There was a large island that separated the kitchen area from the rest of the apartment. The island had lovely light-coloured granite countertops and a lowered section where barstools sat. The large ranch-style sink, in a modern, sleek style, was centred on the back wall cabinets; beside it was my coffee maker, and on the other side, a simple bowl of fruit.

At the end of the back wall, there was a simple, sleek glass-top stove with dual oven doors. The island had nothing on it but a row of cabinets underneath. At the very end was an elegant, simple wine fridge well stocked with all my favourites. Overhead, the island was adorned with sleek, straightforward black pendant lights that gave the area a cozy feel.

To the right of the door were the stairs that led up to the only bedroom. It was a loft that overlooked the rest of my home. When upstairs, you could stand at the glass railings and see most of the apartment. However, when downstairs, you had a limited view of the bedroom.

Protruding from under the stairs was the only bathroom, since I was the only person, I didn’t need more than one. The bathroom had a large jacuzzi tub and a rainfall shower. The dual vanity had the same sleek countertops as those in the kitchen. There was a large mirror with vanity lights that made it easier to see while doing my makeup, my hair, and even plucking my eyebrows.

After a long day, I loved to sit in the tub with the aroma of coconut and vanilla calming my senses. I would often bring a bottle of wine in with me and let the alcohol help to relax me as I enjoyed the jets from the tub on my tired body.

In the far-right-hand corner, left of the bathroom, on the open-concept main floor, was an elegant gas fireplace embedded in a grey stone mantle that ran from the floor to the ceiling. The stone mantle had candles and another art piece I had purchased to give it a showroom feel.

I had a large, cozy couch in dark grey and matching reading chairs, with a grey-and-blue area rug that brought the space together. On the wall just off to the side of the fireplace was a large screen television. I didn’t watch tv much, but it came with the condo, so I left it there. Once in a while, I liked to get caught up on the latest episodes of popular shows, at the very least to have something to talk about with the people I worked with. The television didn’t get much use, but I liked having it anyway.

Where the dining room was supposed to be, I put up a punching bag and had a variety of free weights and yoga mats. The only other things in the space were a treadmill and an elliptical machine. I prided myself on staying fit and being able to out-arm wrestle anyone who challenged me. I didn’t use the treadmill or the elliptical much except on the days when the weather outside was too bad to run on the road. Here in Eastern Ontario, the weather could be bad for at least half the year, so the treadmill and elliptical got good use during those months.

Making my way to the kitchen on the opposite side of the space, I opened my stainless-steel refrigerator and started pulling out leftover containers of Thai food. Living alone meant a lot of takeout, since I didn’t enjoy cooking for just myself. Besides, one order of Thai food was enough to feed me for a few days. I started heaping my plate with pad Thai and fried rice. Once done, I like to add a bit of hot sauce on top. Placing my plate in the microwave, I set it for 3 minutes to heat it sufficiently. I then walked back to the fridge, pulled out a half lime I had stored in an airtight container, and cut a couple of slices. Thai food was excellent with fresh lime drizzled on top.

I made my way up the stairs to my room, waiting for the microwave beep, and slipped out of my work clothes into some comfy yoga pants and a tank top. I placed my work clothes neatly on my king-sized platform bed, vowing I would put them away before going to sleep.

My bedroom was just as simple as the rest of my home. It had large wall closets that hung my meagre wardrobe. Beside my bed, on either side, stood some simple, but elegant side tables with matching lamps. In the far corner, near the wall of windows, were a couple of bookcases that were filled with books. As a matter of fact, it was overflowing. I have always loved to read, since I was a child, and that love never left me. It was the one constant thing about me, the only thing that didn’t change.

On my bed was a large duvet that carried the grey and blue colour scheme from downstairs to my room. I had four king-sized pillows in sleek white pillowcases that matched the sheets under the duvet. The only other thing in the room was a blue-and-grey throw pillow on the bed.

I loved my loft. It looked like it came right out of a magazine, and besides the gym equipment, it also held no personal effects that made a house a home. I was alright with that as I was a simple person with simple preferences. Living alone, I never worried about what my home looked like to others, as it was my personal space. Besides, I never invited anyone over anyway. It was my one cardinal rule with any friendship I developed: we did not spend time at my loft.

Some people have thought I was cold since I never invited them to my home. I have lost friendships because of it. However, the few friends I did have never seemed to mind that we either gathered at their place or out somewhere.

I didn’t have many friends, as that was an entanglement in my life I wasn’t interested in. To me, the more people in your life meant more trouble. I spent a lot of time alone and, for the most part, was perfectly ok with that. Sometimes I would allow myself to feel lonely and wish there was more to my life than just me. Sometimes, I wish I couldn’t be comfortable with another person who knew me and still chose to stay. However, with my life and who I was, it was impossible; there was just too much at stake.

Hearing the microwave beep below indicated that my dinner was done. I made my way back to the kitchen and placed the steaming food on the counter near one of the benches. I then pulled out the hot sauce again in case I needed more. I loved the tingle feel of it on my tongue when the spice hit. Taking stock of what I had in my refrigerator, I knew I would have to do some grocery shopping soon, or takeout would be the only thing I would be eating from here on out.

I never minded eating takeout, but it got old after a while. Though I didn’t cook much, I knew how to prepare delicious meals; I didn’t see the point when I lived alone. Occasionally, like now, I would scold myself for eating out too much and tell myself I needed to cook more. That never lasted long. I would cook a few batch meals and then go back to ordering takeout. It was much more convenient. I was simple in every way, but I did enjoy good food.

I sat down on the stool and ate my dinner. I thought about Marcus as I chewed slowly and ran his Human Resources file through my head with the knowledge that I had of him. He had one dependent, a girl. He was married, but he never talked about his wife at work and didn’t wear a wedding ring. His computer background was impressive, even though he only carried a community college diploma. He worked a second job at an elite computer security company and listed that as experience when he applied for this job.

That job was full-time nights, while the dealership was a full-time day job. This struck me as odd, but it never raised a red flag because the only other thing in his file was that he was dependable and a good worker. There wasn’t a single infraction on his record. Even his attendance at work was impeccable. He only ever missed work if he needed to.

I wondered how he kept going day in and out while working two full-time jobs. I wonder why he needs to work that much. It seems like that kind of lifestyle will eventually kill him, and it certainly contributed to how much older he looked than his actual years. I also knew that the pay he got working for Bennett’s, the name of the people who owned the four dealerships, was enough to live comfortably. I knew little about his marriage, but it seemed to me that his wife wouldn’t want him working that much. I know that if I loved anyone enough to marry them, I would want them around, not always working.

You might think I was stalking him by knowing his human resources file by heart, but I made it my prerogative to know all the employees and their backgrounds. As a manager, it was essential to me to maintain my position, and it helped me relate to them. Why was I so interested, particularly in Marcus? I had no clue. All I knew was that he was mysterious to me, and that intrigued me. Then there was the lightning that I felt when his hand rested on mine earlier today. His touch confused me.

With a sigh, I put my dish in the sink, quickly washed it, and wiped the counter where I had eaten. I then padded across the open space to the stereo, put on some music, and made my way to the makeshift gym, where I started my exercise routine. Getting into the workout, I donned my boxing gloves and began to methodically pound the punching bag in the form of a fighter until I was too exhausted to think. I didn’t want Marcus clouding my head, because I couldn’t allow myself to get attached to anyone, especially a married person.