This was originally a short story that I wrote for a scholarship contest. Upon re-reading it, I discovered that it needed major revamping.

Therefore, the story is still under construction. And I will be posting as I write it.

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Constructive criticism (often shortened to 'CC' or 'concrit') is the process of offering valid and well-reasoned opinions about the work of others, usually involving both positive and negative comments, in a friendly manner rather than an oppositional one.

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Thank you for taking the time to read this! [/b]

"And so, I believe that Universal Graphics can progress quite far with the implantation of this idea. Video games, after all, are played across America by vast numbers of young people." Allyson Grey finished her presentation to the board to a round of applause. Afterwards, once most of the members had cleared out of the room, each congratulating her on their way out, Eric approached her.

"Congrats, Allyson. We should celebrate. How about a drink after work?" he said, as direct as ever.

"Thanks, Eric, but I really can't. It's my mother's birthday," she half-lied. Eric just wasn't the type of guy she went for, especially since he just wasn't getting the picture.

"Well, if you finish the celebration early, just give me a call!"

"I'll keep that in mind," replied Allyson as she picked up her folder. On her way out of the boardroom, her cell phone rang.

"Hello?"

"Honey? Can't you just take one measly day off of work?"

"No, Mom. I can't take a day off work just to fly out to Pennsylvania for a day. And don't even try to pull the 'It's my birthday' line," said Allyson, firmly.

"But you know, it is my birthday Tuesday. I'm turning 58. Don't you think that deserves something special?" returned her mother.

"Mother, I'll call you later tonight and we'll plan for Thanksgiving. I promise I'll be there this year. Right now I have to get back to work." Allyson heard her mother sigh.

"Okay, honey. But you know, it would be such a nice surprise if my only daughter showed up at my door on my birthday. I would be so happy."

"I'm sorry, mother, but I really do have to go. I love you." Allyson hung up her phone and walked over to her desk. The rest of her afternoon was spent calling multiple video game companies marketing her company's artistic capabilities. By the end of the day, three companies had agreed to sign on Universal Graphics. On her way out of the silver high rise, Allyson had her hand shaken so much she thought it was going to fall off; Universal Graphics would no longer be struggling to remain in business.

Allyson rode the subway across town to the station two blocks from her house on Crescent Street. As she took the mail out of the box, she saw a puppy face peer out of the upstairs window. She smiled as she walked up the walk to a chorus of barking. She unlocked the door and greeted the dog with a good rub-down. Then she walked to the kitchen with the mail. Katie, a mutt in every sense of the term, ran ahead and danced around the food dish.

"Are you hungry, girl?" inquired Allyson. Katie responded with a bark. "Well alright. Don't get too excited, it's nothing special, you know."

dgb-o

A few edits:
"Well, if you finish the celebration early, just give me a call!" ~ could also use celebrating.
On her way out of the boardroom, her cell phone rang.
"No, Mom. I can't take a day off work just to fly out to Pennsylvania for a day.
The rest of her afternoon was spent calling multiple video game companies marketing her company's artistic capabilities.

Allyson took the subway across town to the station two blocks from her house on Crescent Street. As she took the mail out of the box, she saw a puppy face peer out of the upstairs window.

Over use of took. Maybe she rode the subway, or fetched the mail?

I like where you start the story- you set up the setting through your character’s presentation, without just blatantly stating where she was and what she does.
You don’t have quite enough for me to comment on the plotline, or character development, but so far I like it.

{{Thanks for the suggestions, sychobunny.}}

Allyson stooped and picked up the food bowl from the floor. She dished out a scoopful of Blue dry food and topped it off with some leftovers and scraps from the fridge.

"I promise that after dinner, I'll take you for a walk," she said as she placed the full bowl in front of Katie. Katie, of course, was too interested in her food to pay any attention to what Allyson had said.

Satisfied that Katie was content, Allyson set a pot of water on the stove to boil for fettuchini. While it heated, she looked through her mail. Nothing much was there--a few bills; a postcard from Andrea, her friend living and working in Paris; and a plain white envelope. On the front of the envelope was her name, but there was no indication whatsoever as to who had sent it. Curious, Allyson opened the envelope, unaware that her water was beginning to bubble.

Unable to withdraw the contents of the envelope from their enclosure, Allyson turned the envelope upside down and shook hard. Onto the dark granite countertop fell a single photograph.

Allyson stared at the photograph for several minutes. It had been such a long time since it was taken that she'd forgotten about it. From within their eternal prison of a glossy two dimensional image smiled a group of seven teenagers. Slowly, Allyson reached out to touch one of the seemingly happy faces--her own.

Just then, the water on the stove boiled over and Allyson turned sharply away from her memories to her dinner.

Allyson ate her spaghetti in the over-stuffed armchair beside the fireplace in the great room. Katie was curled up at her feet, napping after a good meal. Allyson was distracted, something she generally didn't make a habit of. Her thoughts were still on that photograph. Right after high school, she'd left all of her old photographs at her mother's. Now it seemed as though the past was trying to encroach upon her present. She didn't like this feeling; it threw her adjusted world out of whack and this made her stressed and fearful. She had a new life; her old one wasn't supposed to intervene.

Frowning, Allyson stabbed at her spaghetti, forgetting that stabbing wasn't going to get her any noodles at all. Katie lifted her head and looked at her master with a concerned look, when Allyson didn't respond, she gave a heavy sigh and layed her head back onto her front paws.

The phone on the end table beside her chair rang, causing Katie to bark in surprise.

"Hush, Katie," said Allyson as she picked up the phone. "Hello?"

"Hello, Allyson," it was her boss.

"Mr. Graham, hello," she said, sitting up straighter in her chair. Why would Mr. Graham be calling her? At home, no less?

"I wanted to congradulate you on your good work today, but you left the office before I had a chance to."

"Oh. Sorry," Allyson said, a bit uncomfortable.

"Well, in any case, I'd like for you to come in early tomorrow so we can discuss a new project," said Mr. Graham.

"Alright. I'll come in around 8:30?" replied Allyson, puzzled.

"Yes, 8:30 would do nicely. See you tomorrow, Allyson," Mr. Graham hung up. Allyson looked at the receiver and then hung up herself. Katie looked at her inquisitly.

"What?" asked Allyson. "Alright, I'll take you for a walk. Just let me put away the leftovers." At the prospect of a walk, Katie's tail thumped on the hardwood floor. Allyson stood and brought her plate to the kitchen, while Katie ran to the entryway.

In a few minutes, Katie returned, leash in mouth. Allyson put the tuberware full of spaghetti into the fridge, and took the leash from Katie, who immediately sat, tail wagging viciously. Allyson clipped the leash onto Katie's collar and then walked to the door with her.

"Wait," commanded Allyson as she put on her coat, gloves, and scarf. The pair stepped out of the warm comfort of the townhouse and into the harsh weather outside.

Katie had two favorite walks. One was down the street and around the corner to the park. Here, the smells of wet grass and dirt mingled with the scent of children, adults, animals, trees, and, of course, her master. When they went to the park, Allyson always brought Katie's ball and frisbee with her. They would play fetch for hours. On occasion, when Allyson forgot to bring the ball and frisbee, she would let Katie run all around the lake, and Katie enjoyed chasing the geese. They made such funny honking sounds.

Her second favorite walk was when Allyson would take her down the street and to the left, past the building that always smelled like bread and sugar, and the one across the street that smelled like old wheat and smoke. Katie didn't like it when they passed this building, and she always kept close to Allyson, keeping her senses attentive. Katie did like the other building, though. Sometimes, the round man who smelled like his sweets and children would give her a biscuit. Past these two buildings was the subway stop, which Katie didn't like beacuse it smelled harsh and was too noisy. She always wanted to bark as they went by, but she knew that Allyson didn't like it when she barked around other humans. Past the subway station, was the river. Here there were many buildings packed close together that were always brightly lit. People walked about endlessly, and their scents mingled with the fresh scent of the river, and all the smells coming from the buildings. It was always busy here, and Katie liked it. She also liked seeing all the people. She enjoyed walking up to them and smelling their clothes. Sometimes they would stop and pat her head and run their hands over her coat. They would talk to Allyson in praising tones, and sometimes they would talk to Katie. Other times, they would walk around her, and when they did this, Katie's nose followed them as they walked away.

Today, Allyson took Katie on the second walk, and Katie was content.

Allyson walked along the river front with Katie, looking in the shop and restaurant windows. There were street entertainers out tonight, and Allyson stopped to watch a few of the shows. Her favorite was the acrobat who could fit himself into a small plastic box. The river front was one of Allyson's favorite places in the nieghborhood. There were so many people, most of whom she didn't know, and Allyson enjoyed watching them. Her favorite time to come was in the evening, and this was usually when she walked Katie down here. The dark illuminated by the neon and floresscent glow of the shops excited Allyson. About halfway down the street was an art gallery. Everytime she came down here, she would stop in front of the shop and look in at the artwork hanging on the walls and standing on pedestals. Normally, the gallery was closed by 7:30, but today it was still open. Curious, Allyson watched the activity and the people inside instead of looking at the artwork. The gallery seemed to be welcoming a new artist. The artist was standing with his back to Allyson, so she couldn't get a view of him, but from what she could tell, he seemed full of energy. His black hair was cut in the shaggy fashion and came down to the top of his suitcoat collar. The owner put out his hand for a handshake, and the new artist accepted. At the sight of his hand, Allyson's face paled slightly, and she looked quickly down at her own hands.

Beside her, Katie whinned. Ever since she came home, Allyson had been acting strange and Katie was worried. She didn't enjoy seeing her master upset like this. Katie wished she was a human so that she could hug Allyson and make her strange behavior go away. Katie whinned again.

Allyson looked down at Katie.

"Do you want to go, girl?" she asked. Katie whinned. "Alright, then. Let's head home." Allyson turned away from the shop, and walked with Katie back to her house, frowning. There was no mistaking who she had seen, but the question was, why was he here?

Allyson was so caught up in her thoughts that she didn't notice Eric approaching her until Katie stopped walking and started barking.

"Katie! Hush, girl, hush! Don't be rude!" scolded Allyson, clamping her hand down on the mutt's muzzle. Katie ceased her barking and Allyson removed her hand.

"She certainly has some lungs!" remarked Eric. Allyson startled.

"Eric...how are you?" asked Allyson, a bit awkwardly.

"I'm doing alright. Did the celebration end early or something?"

"Celebration?" Eric raised an eyebrow. "Oh, right. The celebration. No, no. It didn't end early."

"Ah. So you just walked out on your mother's birthday party," remarked Eric.

"No," said Allyson, firmly. "Katie needed her walk."

"Right. What's going on over there?" he asked, indicating with his head to someplace behind her. Allyson looked over her shoulder to see a small crowd coming out of the art gallery, including the artist. She turned her gaze away before she could see his face.

"Look's like a new artist at the gallery," she told Eric.

"There's a gallery?" asked Eric.

"And you work for Universal?" returned Allyson.

"You and I, we're not the actual artists, remember?"

"Oh. Right." Allyson looked down at Katie, who's nose was sniffing the evening air. Allyson looked up at the darkening sky. "Well, it looks like it's going to rain soon, and I need to get Katie back home," said Allyson, moving to leave. Eric opened his mouth, but she beat him to it, saying, "I'll be fine. Katie can be quite agressive. See you tomorrow, Eric." Then, she walked past him and back to her home.

The rain started almost as soon as Allyson shut the door. She unclipped Katie's leash and hung it up on its hook. Katie immediately took off to check her territory. Allyson hung up her coat and scarf and went to start a fire in the fireplace; the house was always drafty at night.

She arranged the logs in the fireplace and took pages from Sunday's paper to stuff in between the wood. A heading in the "Around Town" section caught her attention: "Noted Artist Jaye Long to Hang Work Downtown." A picture accompanied the article. The face had matured a bit, but there was no mistaking that smile. The smile that used to shake the founations of her world.

Shivering, Allyson crumpled up the article and added it to the kindling.

Standing, Allyson went to the kitchen for the lighter. She kept it in a drawer in the center of the island. She took the lighter out, and tested it to make sure it worked. The neon blue flame shot up after two tries. The phone rang. Allyson put the lighter down on top of the counter and answered the phone.

"Allyson?" came the voice of her mother.

"I'm still not flying out, Mom," said Allyson.

"What do you think of us moving?" Allyson paused. "George found this wonderful little cottage up near Cape Cod. You know that's always how I wanted to live out the last years of my life--in a nice little cottage by the ocean where I can smell the sea and go for long evening walks in the sand."

"Who would buy the house?" asked Allyson. Her mother didn't answer for a moment.

"Well...we were kind of hoping that perhaps you would like to," said her mother, slowly.

"Mom, my job is here."

"Yes, yes, I know. But I've talked to plenty of companies and they're all willing to hire a good consultant, a few even have positions open for the more artistic side of a company. Your degree wasn't just in business, you know."

"Mother, I've told you time and time again that art is just a past-time. It's a ridiculous way to try and make money," responded Allyson.

"Plenty of people make money doing artwork. Just look at Jay--"

"Mom!" interjected Allyson.

"I don't see why you get so upset when I mention him! He never hurt you, did he?"

"I just don't want to talk about that part of my life. I've moved on," stated Allyson.

"Have you?" asked her mother.

"If you'd be happy moving, then do so. But don't expect me to just drop everything and move back to that house!" said Allyson. She hung up the phone with a loud click.

{{Before I continue with the story, I just wanted to take a moment to say thank you to those who are reading this thread. I've only posted six section and 193 people have viewed this. Thank you so much!

Also, I would like to invite people to comment. Keep your CC mature, and I will take any suggestions into thought.

Thanks again!

Okami}}

Allyson crossed her arms and frowned. Her mother was always stirring up her emotions when she called. Why couldn’t she talk about things that didn’t upset her? Allyson chewed on her lower lip for a moment, sighed, and picked the lighter back up.

Katie returned from checking the perimeter to find Allyson a little more normal than while on their walk. When Allyson got the fireplace going, Katie first put back her ears; she didn’t like the sound of a fire starting. Then, she walked over to the rug in front of the fire and nestled herself down.

Allyson finished with the fire and went to make a cup of tea. She wasn’t a big fan of tea, but when the Celestial Seasonings dessert teas were on sale, she just couldn’t resist them, especially Chocolate Raspberry Bliss or Vanilla Hazelnut.

With her tea in hand, Allyson settled in by the fireplace to read.

Katie watched her master intently as she settled into her chair. She sighed and settled her muzzle on her paws; Allyson was back to her normal routine. Every evening when Allyson would come home from work, she would fix herself dinner and feed Katie. Then, the pair would go for a walk. Often it would be 8:00 or later by the time they came back to the townhouse. Allyson would then make a phone call to a friend or two, fix some tea, and read by the fireplace until she was tired.

Tonight, Allyson had a hard time concentrating on her book. So much had happened today that her mind remained too distracted to focus on the words across the pages. Allyson sighed and set her book down. She took her mug over to the kitchen, rinsed it and placed it in the dishwasher with her plate and fork from dinner. As she closed the dishwasher door, her eyes were caught by the bright colors of the photograph she’d left on the counter.

It was senior year. Allyson had been friends with them for quite some time. She’d known Caryn Stone, a tall, slim brunette, since the second grade. The group was varied, as most were at Bringham Academy, the only private institution that was not religiously affiliated in the whole of Bringham County. The county itself was small; the city was the opposite. The four girls and three boys that made up the group, were probably the closet knit set of friends at BA; Allyson the quietest facet. The loudest were Alicia Michaels, a gorgeous and proud African-American, and Jordan Allen. Jordan often was classified as the “pretty boy,” and pretty he was. He knew it, too; this got him into trouble on occasion. Nowadays, he was an accomplished actor. The four had been friends since middle school, and once they entered 9th grade, Michael Woods and Megan Lee joined the picture. The newest member was Jaye Long, an exchange student from Tokyo. The picture was taken by Caryn’s mother, an eccentric artist who couldn’t get enough of photographing her only daughter, on a hike in early September. The climax of the hike was just so picturesque, that Caryn’s mother couldn’t resist a photograph.

Allyson smiled, remembering. The hike had been a wonderful trip, until the rain clouds came in. The smile vanished. Rain. Allyson hated the rain, especially the metaphorical kind. Quietly, Allyson went to her room, photograph in hand, Katie trailing behind, and placed the photograph into a shoebox from the closet shelf. She put the lid back on the box before she could answer the urge to leaf through the memories located within. Then, she took a shower and went to bed, worried about her meeting with Mr. Graham in the morning.

CHAPTER TWO

Allyson did not enjoy getting up early. It meant that she had to ride the subway with Carter Nelson, her next-door neighbor. Carter was, to put it bluntly, socially inept. He was older, rounder, and slightly bald. His mannerisms were odd; he never looked at the person he was talking to, and he was constantly fidgeting. He was also overly sweet, which made it hard for Allyson to tell him that she’d rather that he not sit right next to her on the subway, or bring flowers over to her door whenever he thought that perhaps her dining room might like a splash of color (never mind that Allyson didn’t actually have a dining room). So it was no surprise that that morning when she came out of her house just in time to catch Carter leaving his, Allyson’s stomach knotted in tension.

"A-Allyson," stuttered Carter, "you’re going to work early today?" Allyson tried to relax as she smiled and nodded.

As Alyson made her way down the walk, at unfortunately the same speed as Carter, a black sedan slowed to a stop in front of her house and beeped, causing the pair to jump. The passenger side window rolled down to reveal Eric as the driver.

"Hey, Allyson! Heard you were going in early today, so I thought I’d give you a ride," he said, smiling. Allyson paused, unsure of what to do. On one hand she didn’t want to have to spend an awkward subway ride with Carter, but at the same time, she didn’t want to spend a car ride with Eric. Allyson looked over at Carter, who was looking somewhere between Eric and Allyson with halfway squinted eyes, and decided she could tolerate a ride with Eric.

"Uh, sure. I’ll, uh, see you later, Carter," she said, awkwardly.

"Yeah, sure," replied Carter, nodding vaguely. Sometimes Allyson wondered if maybe he had some sort of disability, and every time she did, she immediately felt guilty.

Allyson smiled fleetingly at Carter as she slid into the passenger seat of Eric’s sedan.

Eric began driving almost as soon as Allyson had closed the door.

"So why exactly did you decide to show up in front of my house and drive me to work?" she demanded as she snapped her seat belt into place.

"Mr. Graham. He called me in early, too." replied Eric.

"Oh," Allyson turned her head to look out the window.

"How was the rest of the party?" asked Eric, glancing at her sideways as he turned onto Elm. Allyson gave him a semi-blank stare. "It wasn't your mother's birthday yesterday and you weren't throwing a party for her, were you?"

Allyson reddened in response. "It's Tuesday. In Pennsylvania."

"You could have just told me you didn't want to hang out. It's a perfectly acceptable answer, you know," Eric said, smiling. It only made Allyson more embarassed. In some ways she wished she'd taken the subway. Eric chuckled and turned his eyes back to the road. The silence seemed to drag on as Allyson searched for something to say to him. "So do you walk down by the river often?" he said, beating her to it.

"Yeah. You?" she returned.

"Not really. I was meeting a friend at Jazzman's."

"Oh. That's the coffee shop on the corner of 8th, right?"

"Yeah. It's a nice place, especially for people watching, which is what I ended up doing. Caroline, the friend I was meeting, had to cancel."

"Oh." Silence loomed in the car. "So...why were you called in early?" she asked.

"Not sure. Mr. Graham just said that he wanted the pair of us to come in. That's all," returned Eric. "I'm guessing you don't have any idea, either?"

"Not a clue." Allyson returned to staring out the window and tried to convince herself that the car ride was more pleasant than the subway.

They were passing into a more residential area when Eric turned on the radio.

"In the news today, an up-and-coming artist Jaye Long hangs his work in Rademan's Gallery downtown. The paintings are a rendering of --"

"Do you think we could change the channel?" asked Allyson. She didn't want to hear what the paintings were a rendering of.

"--Allyson Grey." Allyson closed her eyes.

"You want to change the channel after they just said your name? Most people would be intrigued!" stated Eric.

"Please?" requested Allyson. Eric shrugged.

"You sure are strange, Ms. Grey," he teased as he tuned the station to the Oldies.

Fifteen minutes passed slowly by before Eric finally turned into the parking garage.

It wasn't long before both Allyson and Eric were siting across the desk from Mr. Graham.

"Do you know why I asked you to come in early today?" he asked. The pair shook their heads. "Good. That's the way it should be. I called you in to assign you a collabrative job. I want you to be the managers for the new project with Oakland Towers Games."

Allyson was aware that she was staring with her mouth open. She closed her mouth and looked over at Eric.

"So, what do you think? It's brilliant, isn't it? You two are our best managers and Oakland Towers is our biggest project. It's perfect!"

"Yes, sir, it is," replied Eric.

"I'm glad you think so. The first meeting is at 9:00 tomorrow."

Allyson left Mr. Graham's office both excited and put-off. Why did she have to work with Eric? Why not Joe or Terry; they were just as talented. She sighed as she sat down at her desk. Lying right in the center was another unmarked envelope. Allyson deliberately ignored it and opened up her e-mail. Most of it was junk -- a recipe of the day (Chicken Pot Pie), a coupon to Molly's Art Supplies -- but then there was a message from Kendra James.

Kendra was not supposed to have Allyson's e-mail. In fact, none of her old friends from Bringham were. Slightly hesitant, Allyson opened Kendra’s e-mail.

Hey, Allyson
I was going through some old boxes up in your folks' attic (I was helping them move. You should ask your mom for the pictures of the cottage they bought; it’s adorable!) and I found our old yearbooks. It got me thinking about you, so I decided to look you up. It's amazing what you can find out through Google about someone!
Well, anyway, congrats on your big corporate job. I hope you're enjoying yourself in the Big City! Send me an e-mail any time! I'd love to hear from you!
~Ken

For a moment all Allyson could do was stare at her computer screen. Then, she called her mother.

"Hello?" answered George.

"Hey, George. Is mom there?" Allyson asked.

"Yeah. Hang on a minute. Tracy it's Ally!" Allyson heard George holler.

"Hello, dear."

"When was Kendra over?" Allyson asked, direct as ever.

"Well, my goodness. You have absolutely no room for chit-chat, do you?!" exclaimed her mother. "She was over here yesterday afternoon. I'd told Maddie about us moving, and Kendra offered to help pack. She brought her husband with her, too."

"She married!!" said Allyson, a bit too loudly, as several coworkers looked over at her cubicle in surprise.

"If you hadn't cut your ties, you would know this, Allyson," her mother reminded her. "Why the sudden interest in Ken?"

"She e-mailed me. Are you selling the house soon?"

"No. We thought we'd continue to own it. If you don't move in, we'll rent it out. Maybe use it as a place to come to for reunions. Are you changing your mind?"

"No, mom, I'm not. This is where I work and live, and I'm not looking for a new job. I only called to ask you about Kendra. You didn't tell her my e-mail, did you?"

"Of course not, dear. I don't even know your e-mail!"

"Oh. Alright."

"Well, dear, George and I were just about to go out for lunch, so I'll call you later." Her mother then hung up before Allyson could answer.

Allyson hung up the phone, and chewed on her lip as she decided whether or not to e-mail Kendra back. Just as she was about to start typing, the phone rang.

"Universal Graphics this is Allyson Grey," said Allyson.

"How does lunch sound?" Allyson stared at the receiver in surprise.

"Eric," she hissed. "You're three cubicles down! Come and ask me yourself!"

"Who's Eric?" continued the receiver.

"Who is this?"asked Allyson, cautiously.

"It's me! JC!" came the reply.

"JC?!" exclaimed Allyson, a smile bursting across her face. "What are you doing out here?"

"I have a few meetings with some new clients. So, are you going to agree to lunch or not?"

"Sure, lunch would be wonderful. Where do you want to meet?"

"You're building's on Washington, right?" asked JC.

"Yeah. Washington and 3rd. There's a really good cafe across the street. West Side Cafe, I believe. Does that sound good?" returned Allyson.

"Sure. How does...12:30 sound?"

"Sounds great. See you then, JC." Allyson hung up and wrote the lunch down on the Post-It notes besdie her computer.

"So, who's...JC?" asked Eric, reaching over Allyson's shoulder to read her note. Allyson started.

"A friend from college," replied Allyson, taking back her Post-Its.

"So what's the acronym for?" asked Eric, stealing Andy's chair and sitting down backwards.

"Jean-Christophe."

"Ah. A Frenchman. He is a guy, right?"

"Yes, he's a guy. And what's so wrong with being French?"

"Well, you know what they say..."

"Stereotypes. You're judging a guy you've never met before based on stereotypes," stated Allyson, slightly appalled.

"Well, when you don't know a guy, you've got to form some sort of opinion of him based on the information you have." replied Eric, pointedly.

"It's still a stereotype."

"Well, maybe my opinion would change if I met him," suggested Eric.

"Nice try. Don't you have work to do?"

"Don't you?"

"Yeah, I do. So, scat." shooed Allyson.

"I'm not going to let down until you say yes, you know," said Eric as he returned to his cubicle.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Allyson called after him.

"Do you guys always have to be so loud," complained Lynn as she came into the office.

Lynn Henderson was always complaining. Allyson always wondered how it was possible that one could go through the whole day complaining and not go crazy. So, in reply to Lynn's complaint, Allyson muttered to herself, "We're not always loud."

This was echoed by Eric as Lynn walked past him on her way to her desk.

"If she thinks you guys are loud, she should hear how loud she can be," remarked Andy as he moved his chair back to his desk. Allyson snickered as she looked through the numerous filefolders piled on her desk for the folder for the Oakland Towers project. It wasn't there. Heaving a sigh, Allyson pushed back from her desk and walked impatiently over to Eric's.

There, Allyson crossed her arms and cleared her throat.

"Yes?" inquired Eric, in a tone that could've been an attempt at being suave.

"I need the folder, Eric," said Allyson, curtly.

"What a coincidence! So do I! So why don't I use it first and do all the hard work, and then you can use it?"

Allyson scoffed. "First off, don't be sexist. Secondly, the folder was on my desk, and thirdly, we're supposed to work as a team. So you can either continue being a sexist pig, in which case nothing will get done because I won't cooperate, or we work together."

"I'll go find a conference room," said Eric, sliding back from his desk and picking up the folder.

"Don't you dare make a single phone call until I'm in that room, Eric!" Allyson called out after him.

"Again with the loud!" said Lynn.

"Oh, shut it, Lynn," snapped Allyson as she marched over to her desk.

"Nice job, All," said Anne Smith in the cubicle attached to the front of Allyson's, as she stood up. "Way to be a woman!" Anne could sometimes be quite the feminist.

"Thanks," muttered Allyson as she slid her laptop and notepad from her desk.

It didn't take Allyson long at all to find Eric, after all there were only two confrence rooms that could be used for work other than conferences. Eric had picked the better of the two--it had a window with a spectacular view of the parking lot. Allyson took a deep breath before entering the room so as to regain some of her composure. Through the glass door, Allyson could see Eric sitting there like a punished puppy.

"Quit moping. You deserved it," she said as she down across the table from him.

"Sorry," replied Eric. Allyson shrugged.

"Just don't steal things off of my desk anymore, especially when I'm the one who took the notes." Allyson reached over and opened the folder. Lying on top of her pages of notes was a drawing of a tree.

"Did you draw this?" asked Eric, slightly amazed. Allyson shrugged.

"I was an art minor in college," she replied.

"It's really good! Why didn't you pursue art instead of business?"

"Being an artist is too much work for shoddy and unreliable pay."

"The artists here seem perfectly content."

"They're graphic designers," said Allyson.

"Well they have to have some sort of talent in order to produce what they produce! I mean, look at the graphics from some of Oakland Towers' games!" Eric pulled out a few print outs of scenery from Oakland Towers' latest fantasy roleplaying game. Allyson just shrugged it off.

"Let's prepare for our meeting tomorrow morning," she said, pulling out her several pages of notes.

Eric sighed. "Fine," he relented as Allyson spread the notes out in front of her.

The rest of the morning went by fairly quickly as the pair planned out several proposals for Oakland Tower games. The company was in great need of some fresh ideas; almost of their games were of the same genre--fantasy roleplaying--and the same platform--Playstation 2. They desperately needed to broaden their horizons if they wanted to be more competitive in the industry.

Finished for the morning, Allyson headed across the street to the West Side Cafe for her lunch with JC after another meeting with Mr. Graham in which Eric and herself were presented plane tickets and told that their plane left tomorrow morning at 7:00. Needless to say, Allyson was both excited and agitated. And these were two things that JC picked up on as soon as she entered the cafe.

JC had always been good at reading people, although admittidly Allyson had taken a bit longer than most. JC wasn't exactly sure why, but he had a feeling it had to do with her mother's divorce when Allyson was 9; Allyson had told him it hadn't exactly been the most ideal situation. He also knew that she had never gone to see her father after that, and it wasn't due to custody rights.

But when Allyson walked into the little cafe across from her office, JC could tell right off the bat that something had upset her enough to put a damper on her excitement at seeing him again.

"Allyson, what happened? What's wrong?" he asked in his almost perfect Parisien accent that had taken him most of his adult life to accomplish coming from a rural southern background.

"You can speak to me in French, you know," replied Allyson, as she walked up to the table. JC waited until she had put down her purse before greeting her with three bises**, his check breifly touching hers. The pair then sat down to begin their lunch hour together.

**NOTE: giving bises is the common way of greeting friends and family in France. You exchange kisses on alternating cheeks upon meeting and separating. Two people introduced by a mutual friend may also faire la bise, particularly kids and young adults. La bise is literally a kiss (or le bisou).

"It's much more fun to speak in English," JC replied, as the two sat down. "Plus, then I don't run the risk of ordering my food in French."

Allyson had to chuckle. "Like that time in London," she said, smiling. JC grinned.

"Exactly. It's always better not to confuse those who bring you your food," he said, opening up the menu. "So...what's best?"

"Ummm...I haven't been here in a little while, but I've always liked their Ranch Eggs. Of course, my absolute favorite item on the menu is their Blueberry Conrnbread," said Allyson. "It's just the right balance and the blueberries are always fresh and on the bottom."

"Mmm....That does sound good," remarked JC. "I very well might order that."

The waitress, Sandy, came a few minutes later.

"Hey, Ally. You'll be wanting the usual Sunrise Sandwich?" asked Sandy.

"That and a small bowl of Fresh Fruit and Yougurt, please," said Allyson, setting her menu down.

"So, what's it that sandwich?" asked JC, smiling at Sandy.

"It's just two eggs cooked how you like 'em on toasted Rosemary bread," she said.

"Okay. I think I'll go with your Denver Omlette and some Blueberry Cornbread, I was told that's expecially good."

"Alright. Anything to drink besides water?" asked Sandy, her pen poised.

"I'll have a lemonade, Sandy," said Allyson.

"And I'll stick with the water. Thank you," added JC.

"Okay. I'll be right out with your order," said Sandy. "Oh, Ally, did you see the new artist at the gallery down on the river front?"

"I haven't actually seen the artwork, yet," answered Allyson.

"Really?! Then, do you want to go there with me on Saturday? Josh is coming," invited Sandy.

"Actually, I'll be flying back from Bringham that day. There's a conference out there that I have to go to," Allyson said, trying to keep her voice from sounding too clippy. She was not happy about going back to Bringham.

"Ah. Well, we're going over there at about 7:00, so give me a call if you get back in time and want to meet us over there."

"I'll do that," said Allyson as Sandy turned back to work.

"So that's why you're upset!" exclaimed JC.

"I don't know what you're talking about," remarked Allyson, sipping at her glass of water.

"Oh, come on, Al! You received plenty of offers from companies and galleries in Bringham, and each time you turned them down! Why? Because, and I quote: 'I never want to be in that place again,'" said JC, pointedly.

"I never said that!" exclaimed Allyson.

"I don't see why you never want to go back, anyway. It is you hometown. I love going back to my hometown."

"Well you're from a pituresque little town in southern France. I'm from a medium-sized city in Pennslyvania. It actually gets cold there, you know."

"If the only reason why you never wish to return home is because of the weather, then I have to say your reasoning is pathetic!"

"That's not the reason," said Allyson.

"Then, pray, tell me why you're avoiding your heritage!" said JC, thoroughly interested in Allyson's answer.

"I've turned over a new leaf, and I don't want to revisit the old one," said Allyson, simply.

"That'll never work. You can't escape your past, Al. I mean, part of it's sitting across from you! And it makes no sense why you, of all people, would want to escape your past. Unless you're in trouble with the law, which I highly doubt," added JC.

"I could never do anything illegal! Well, except teepeeing my governemnt teacher's house....and phonebooking Tara's...."

JC laughed. "Oh yes, those are such horrible offenses that you'll never be allowed in Bringham again!" he teased. He laughed again. "Mon Dieu, Allyson. My God!" Allyson merely scowled and took another drink of water.

"So, when does this flight back to Hell City leave?" asked JC.

"7:00 AM," said Allyson with distaste. "Tomorrow."

"Ouch. You want to go out tonight?"

"I just said that my flight leaves at 7:00 in the morning! 7:00, JC, 7:00."

"Je sais, I know. Meet at the river front at 8:00?" insisted JC.

"I said 7:00," said Allyson.

"7:00 it is," replied JC, grinning.

"One Sunrise Sandwich, and a Denver Omlette," said Sandy, setting their lunches in front of them. "Have a good time in Bringham, Ally."

"Fine. 7:00. But I'd better be home by midnight!" snapped Allyson.

{{Sorry for the length between updates. I had that good old writer's block! :sarcasm:}}

Allyson couldn't believe how nervous she was. She pulled out three outfits, tried them all on, and finally settled for the first. In her bathroom, Allyson made use of her curling iron to perfect the unruly curls left from her shower. She put lipstick on, thought about wearing her contacts, and decided against it.

In the kitchen, Allyson filled Katie's bowl and rinsed out the dog food can. The clock that she kept on the windowsill above the sink read 6:45. Allyson took a deep breath and leaned against the counter. Why? Why did the idea of walking along the water front with JC make her stomach feel like a gymnist? It had been three years since they had parted on completely friendly terms. Allyson was going to Chicago, JC was remaining in Paris. They had kept in touch through e-mail and the occasional Skype call, but Allyson knew that they would never be able to actually be together; their lives were completely separate. Allyson sighed and turned away from the sink. Katie sat before her, her head cocked with her leash in her mouth. Allyson had to smile. Sometimes, she wished she could be a dog.

"Oh, what? Do you want to come too?" she asked Katie. Katie's tail thumped enthousiastically against the linoleom floor. "I guess it won't kill JC to have to hang out with my dog as well. Come on, girl." Katie trotted along beside Allyson as she headed for the foyer and bundled up in a coat, gloves, and scarf. No sense in wearing too little tonight; Allyson wasn't looking for chivalry tonight. She clipped the leash onto Katie collar and headed out the door to meet JC for a night out.

dgb-o

What's with the random bits of red sprinkled throughout?

The red is to show edits I've made.

Allyson returned to the house with Katie and JC close to 10:00.

"You know, JC," said Allyson, fishing for her keys in her coat pocket, "you didn't have to walk me home. Katie can be quite fierce.

"Except that poor Katie is exhausted from being on her feet for three hours," replied JC, crossing his arms as he leaned against the door jamb.

"Well, if a certain garçon* had wanted to sit inside a nice warm coffee shop like any other normal human being would on a cold night, then she might not be nearly as exhausted," said Allyson as she fitted the key in the lock. She pushed open the door and Katie, feeling the warmth of the house, bolted through, dragging Allyson along. "Aah!"

As Katie tore through the foyer, Allyson somehow managed to free her hand from Katie's leash.

"You see," she said, placing her hands on her hips, "you've tortured her so much that she can't stand to be near you for a second longer!" JC chuckled as he came around the door and closed it behind him. Allyson took a deep breath and let it out, brushing her hair from her face. JC leaned against the door, his hands still wrapped around the doorknob. Watching her, he suddenly wanted to brush Allyson's hair back and kiss her. His desire was so strong that he had to look away.


*NOTE: garçon is French for "boy." However, in this context I meant something more along the lines "guy."

dgb-o

Oooh.... You're story is delectable so far, Okami! :heart:

The characterization is excellent and I'm looking forward to finding out more about Allyson! Keep it up, buddy!

Just one little note, you might want to go back and re-read a few posts extra carefully. There were just some small gramatical errors that my detail-attentive self noticed.