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The Little Black Book (Chapter 4)

Chapter 4: Love at first sight?

By Prashanth ChandrasegaramPublished 2 years ago 4 min read

Suddenly, amidst the sound of loud click-clacking heels, another voice emerged from the entrance of the lobby, by the revolving doors.

“You know its rude to leave a lady waiting—Oh! Are those for me?!” exclaimed a beautiful lady with long, beautiful, super-straightened, black hair by the condominium entryway, dressed in high-fashion Italian designers. She strut toward the collision scene in her shiny, glossy black Louboutin heels through the lobby as if a catwalk model walking on a tight rope. Conor’s eyes dropped as she passed him and locked on midway down her figure.

Directing her eyes toward Helena, the lady said, “Hello, who are you?”

“Hi, I’m Helena. Nice to meet you. I live here as well. Just going to my condo.”

“Oh... Sorry. Jenna. Nice to meet you. Actually, I don’t live here--yet!”

The stairwell door shut with a thundering thump that echoed through the echoey lobby.

And, reaching for the young man’s face, stroking his cheek, she said, “But, I’ll be moving in soon, right, sweetie?”

The young man let out an awkward grin, shifting his gaze upward as he looked toward the pot lights above on the ceiling. He didn’t say anything.

“Your Bible-belt parents will love me, don’t worry.”

“Jen? Let’s talk about this another time?”

Grabbing his hand, Jenna said, “Nice meeting you, Helena. Baby, let’s go, we’ll be late for work.”

“Sorry, Jen. The elevator broke down. I waited 10 minutes before taking the stairs.”

“So, why didn’t you tell me? I was calling you.” said Jenna as she adjusted her mask.

“My phone was on silent.”

Jenna turned to Helena.

“Excuse us, bye! Again, nice meeting you.” said Jenna, smiling with her eyes.

Standing by Jenna’s side, the young man said “Sorry about bumping into you earlier. Bye.”

“Bye. Nice to meet you both.” said Helena.

Then, Jenna turned and started her strut down the lobby, toward the lobby entrance, bouquet in one hand, boyfriend in the other.

Helena couldn't help herself to eavesdrop. Conor continued to gawk and probably would need to wipe the drool off his face soon.

“You bumped into her?” Jenna said, in a muffled, semi-whispering, semi-loud sort of way.


“Babe, you’re not wearing your mask. Where is it?”

They paused in the middle of the lobby. He reached into his pocket and showed her his mask. Jenna took the mask and put it on him.


They started to walk toward the door.

“You know… You should pay more attention so you don’t just bump into people. Just like how you should pay more attention to your phone when I call you.”

“Sorry, Jen. It was an accident.”

“Bumping into her? Or, having your phone on silent?”


“Well, I want you to pay attention more. Babe! Pay attention more. Pay attention to ME more."

She looked intently at him with her beautiful, icy-blue eyes.

“Sweetheart, I texted you good morning, didn’t I?”

“Yes, boo, but, that’s not the point—”

“You’re special to me. You’re my golden girl, remember?”

She stopped at the door and he went ahead of her to open it for her.

“Yes. Yes, I am,” she said, holding her chin up high.

He smiled as she looked intently toward him again.

“You’re lucky you’re so handsome...” she said, grabbing his hand tightly and walking him toward the sparkling, black car idling by the sidewalk in the drab-grey-and-streak-white February weather.

The chauffeur opened the door for them.

“Shawn, we’re late. Get us outta here.” Jenna said as she put on her designer shades.

Helena was so caught up with the moment, she realized that she ended up eavesdropping on the whole conversation as the couple trotted off. Amidst the echoes of the clickity-clack of designer heels, and Conor’s drool, Helena couldn’t help but spectate, being engrossed by the brilliant bomb-defusal of a lover’s spat by a very smooth, suave, sweet, San-Marino-blue-suited suitor.

“Lucky...” said the girl from Kentucky under her breath in a sigh.

So much for love at first site?

Then, as if snapping out of a trance, she looked around, and, under her breath, nodding after each word, she gently pounded her fist in her hand in synchrony as she listed out the game plan: “Credit card. Coffee. Work.”

But, a split second after, before she could turn to reach for the door again, the ding of the elevator rung through the lobby.


So, she contorted herself from by the stairwell door toward the elevator as she semi-leaped inside, smashing the button for her floor with her thumb.

After having retraced her steps back to the condo to collect her coveted credit card, she waited at the elevator again, speaking to herself with a sigh:

“Lather, rinse, repeat...”

So, with the usual ding of forewarning, Helena, made her elevator escape.

Lather, rinse, repeat:

Entering the elevator.

Watching the elevator doors close.

Pressing the ground button.

Waiting in the cab.

Watching the elevator doors open.

Lather, rinse, repeat.

And, with the usual ding of forewarning, Helena, in the middle of her crazy caffeine-craving crisis, again, exited the elevator into the bright whites of pot lights of her condominium lobby.

Having done the customary “good morning”, Helena, about to saunter passed the concierge through the echoey condominium lobby once more, noticed that, by the stairwell door, there was a little black book that was sitting against the smooth white-and-grey marble-tiled floor.

She picked up the book and took a look. The leather felt good in her hands.

"Moleskin." she read.

This should be interesting.

Young AdultLove

About the Creator

Prashanth Chandrasegaram

Dreaming of escape to a tropical, teardrop-shaped island, a place of my parents' tearful escape, a place once called home.🌴

Red-blooded Tamil. 🇱🇰

Born and raised on Canadian soil. 🇨🇦

HBSc (Neuroscience). 🧠

Working on a CPA. 🧮

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