Yet another part

Abby stared at the computer screen in front of her, the blinking cursor a beacon calling her back to reality. She had been daydreaming again. More of a waking dream actually. The events that played out in her mind were not of her own making. They felt real. Hours after her visions  had passed she could still feel the soft earth under her feet.  She could smell sweat and animal dung, and feel the cool breeze ruffling her hair. This latest one left her shaking with a sheen of sweat covering her brow. Whoever the woman was she was in terrible trouble. And Abby couldn’t help but feel that she was the one who was supposed to help her. That was ridiculous though, she had never met this woman before and she certainly wasn’t psychic. Or at least she didn’t think she was. It was true, odd occurrences had followed her around her whole life. And she had dreamt of this woman before. As a matter of fact she had dreamt of this person her whole life. When she was a child she had watched her play amongst the largest trees Abby had ever seen. But that didn’t make her psychic, just . . .creative. Her upbringing had been hell, of course she had created an imaginary friend. And maybe she was dreaming of her because she was stressed out again. The fact that there were no serious stressors in her life did nothing to stop her rationalizations. But now the daydreams were occurring with alarming frequency. At night she now dreamt of her childhood, and during the day she was overtaken by these odd visions of another world. Abby was exhausted and bordering on hysteria most of the time.
“Are the quarterly reports ready Abs?” Tara said.
Abby jumped and almost reached for the letter opener on her desk.
“Oh, it’s you. Give me about two minutes Tara and I will have them for you.” Abby spun her chair and placed a stack of paper in the printer behind her. As the printer began to click and whir she turned around to face Tara. In Abby’s eyes, Tara was one of the most beautiful women on earth.  Brown eyes framed by a full set of naturally curved lashes sat above a thin straight nose and a full sensuous mouth. Dark hair cascaded down past her ample bosom framing her face with its straight lines. Tara’s hair reminded Abby of liquid chocolate, much like her skin looked like a rich mocha. Anytime they passed each other in the hall Abby would inhale Tara’s rich fruity scent and let it wash over her like a spring rain. That rich scent was now beginning to waft over the desk and tickle Abby’s nostrils.
“Just exactly who did you think I was anyway?” Tara said.
“When?” Abby said her brow wrinkling.
“When I walked up you said ‘Oh, it’s you.’” Tara said. She shifted her weight and stuck her hip out in a provocative pose. Her full lips set in a pout like a spoiled child. Abby knew she didn’t do it on purpose, but it made her pulse race none the less.
“I don’t know who I thought you were. I haven’t been getting much sleep lately so I’m a little jumpy.” Abby said. She lowered her eyes and set about straightening her already neat desk.
“Mmmhmmm.” Tara said. “Well, you have been looking a little pale lately.” Tara said and laughed at her own joke. Abby’s skin was the color of fresh cream and was unmarred by freckles like most redheads. Abby scrunched up her face and stuck out her tongue.
“Ha ha ha.” she said. “Make all the jokes you want to.  At least I don’t go tanning to darken my skin. I’m happy with the color.” Abby knew this would shut her up. Tara spent hundreds of dollars on skin creams to lighten her complexion.
“I don’t know why you try to change it anyway, Tara. You have the most beautiful skin I have ever seen. It’s so smooth and creamy. When you are in the sunlight it dances with color and richness.” Suddenly aware that she had said too much, Abby turned in her chair and retrieved the printed pages. She tapped the thick stack lightly on the desktop to make sure they were all aligned and carefully avoided looking up at Tara. Then she put a large metal clip on the top left corner of the sheaf of papers to hold them together. She knew Tara would need to make copies and didn’t want to mar the pages with staples.
“Here you go.” she said lightly. “Oh, and tell John that the figures don’t reflect yesterdays sales, he turned them in too late.”
Tara reached out and grasped the stack of papers. Abby held firm to her end creating a mini tug of war between the women.
“I’m sorry if I offended you, Tara. I just think you try too hard to be something you aren’t. You’re gorgeous the way you are.” The hurt look on Tara’s face began to melt away and she opened her mouth to the say something when the intercom on the desk crackled to life.
“Abby!” A rude disembodied voice snapped. “Is Tara down there with you? We need to get the quarterly meeting started and we can’t do that without the quarterly reports.”
Abby muffled a laugh and smiled up at Tara.
“I am so sorry Mr. Carlson.” Abby said to the box on her desk. “My printer jammed and then it was out of ink and then I had to go get more paper. I know how important this meeting is and I deeply apologize for the wait sir. I should have the reports ready to go in about ten minutes.”
“See that you do. We have a business to run here.” Mr. Carlson said. Abby reached out and pressed a button on the phone breaking the connection.
“He really is something else.” Tara said shaking her head. The smile on her face let Abby know she was forgiven.
“Half the time he doesn’t even show up for these things. Now he’s biting people’s heads off left and right.” Tara said. She pressed the stack of papers to her chest, turned to leave, and changed her mind When she turned to face Abby she was smiling almost shyly and chewing on her lower lip. 
“Thanks, Abs.” she said “For everything.”  Abby’s heart leapt into her throat and her palms became slick with sweat.
“It was nothing sweetie.” she said and swallowed.
Tara smiled more broadly. “It was something.” she said. “It was a lot of something.”
Abby watched as she walked away. Tara’s knee length charcoal skirt hugging all the right curves and the short sport jacket accenting her waist. Abby drew in a deep breath and blew it out slowly. Shaking her head she smiled to herself and tried to focus on the computer screen. The blinking cursor had waited patiently while she made of fool of herself with Tara. It sat there now, blink, blink, blink-ing, a silent demand for her attention.
“Back to work Abs.” she murmured to herself. She reached down and pulled out the flat drawer-like shelf that held the keyboard and began punching in figures for next week’s projected sales. It was going to be a long day.