The first time I saw Tracey was in early 2001, when I was still with the company.

Word spread around the office one day, that there was a new girl who had just joined the admin staff, and that she was pretty hot.

I spotted her a couple of days later. Delicate features, with bright, lively eyes. Slight of frame, great figure. What I noticed most was her gait; a light stride, with a little sashay that conveyed a certain confidence about her. She was very attractive.

I left the company in late 2001. She left not too long thereafter. We did not really keep in touch, save for all of five or six SMSes for the next four years. Sometime this year, and by chance, we resumed correspondence via instant messaging. Again, it was occasional, and she dropped out of sight from March onwards. I would learn later that she had gone destination-hopping around Asia.

Out of the blue, she called last week, and suggested dinner on Friday.

The first thing I noticed about her was her newly cropped hair. It was a boyish cut which framed her face perfectly. "I love your hair!" I exclaimed, as I got into her car. She was in the midst of applying eyedrops, and her hand, with the bottle, froze as she turned to look at me. Then she flashed that impish grin of hers that I remembered so well.

Dinner ambience was pleasant, with my favorite maitre d' seeing to us throughout the entire course. The conversation we had over dinner was fairly cordial in the way between two persons who had not seen each other for a while, who had only been smoke break buddies and the occasional lunch companions.

I suggested a drink across the road. As we were adjourning to the bar, she surprised me by hooking her arm around mine. I did not miss a beat, and carried on the conversation.

CHIJMES was surprisingly empty for a Friday night. Over drinks, we reminisced about the days back in the company. We spoke of the rest of the ex-colleagues we were closer to, and also the few notable people we remembered.

"Can I confess?" I asked. "You probably didn't know this, but when you first joined, word went around the office that you were one of the few hot girls in the entire company."

She laughed. Her eyes twinkled. "Thank you," she said. Then she leaned forward. "So, did you think likewise?"

"Of course." That made her smile.

I continued: "Though I have to add that I had thought of you as somewhat of an ice queen."

She arched her eyebrows, and exclaimed: "No, I was not!"

"Well, at least you appeared to be. Unattainable."

Her lips curled up at the corners. "Did you know I was single then?"

"No way!" I could not contain my surprise. "I had thought you must have been busy fending off men!"

We both laughed.

"Strangely, men always perceive the hot chicks as never lacking in love interests," I mused.

"So, if that's the perception, then who's dating those chicks?" she asked.

"I wonder too."

"Were you single then?" she asked. I nodded. Her eyes grew saucer-wide. "And I thought you were attached!"

She regarded me for a while before she spoke again. "Y'know, when I first saw you, I told myself, this guy is funky."

"Funky?" I tried to recall what I was like four years ago. I was younger, sure; probably I dressed younger too. I must have been pretty brash a person as well.

"It's amazing," I asked. "It's 4 years later, and you are exactly the same as how I remembered you."

She took a sip of her Pussyfoot. "You are still the same too. Except 'funky' isn't the word to describe you now."

"What is, then?"

"Sharp. Edgy, but in the good sense."

I smiled.

The conversation went into a beat. I lit another cigarette and gazed out at the people streaming into the premises.

"You know… " she began, breaking the silence. I looked at her. "I thought you were cute the first time I saw you."

It was my turn to laugh. "Personally I disagree, but thank you."

"I still think you are."

Privately, that statement floored me. To have heard that from a woman I had always considered unattainable, it was a big compliment. I smiled to myself.

Our gazes met. The moment grew uncomfortable, but just so. Then the moment passed as we both made an unspoken mutual decision to let the tension slide, and let a casual banter set in for the rest of the evening. Once in a while, she looked at me seemingly as though she was trying to read me. There was a look on her face, as though she was waiting for me to say something; that impish grin, that twinkle in her eyes.

But I dismissed it, and thought nothing more of it.

Later, as we made our way back to her car, she took my arm again. And when we parted, she drew my face close to hers with both hands and planted a kiss on my lips. I was quietly shocked and I did not know how to react. She pulled away, and gave me that grin by way of a parting sight.

It was then that I thought otherwise again.

Advertisement