~~~~
Rachel Lane's office had cream plushy floors that sank
with each step and pure white walls marred by pictures of smiling pudgy babies,
their rosy cheeks and bright glinting eyes full of vibrancy. She sat in her
tall backed rolling chair looking as if its black leather swallowed her petite
frame as she leaned over with her chin propped up on her hand, elbow resting on
the mahogany desk. One crossed legs in her short brown skirt jittered, the
high-heeled shoe dangling on by her toes swayed with the movement. Her brown
suit coat rested on the arm of her chair and her buttercup blouse's sleeves
were rolled up as she flicked the black stylist against the screen of the
tablet.
The screen flashed with colors, sounds muted as the
score rose in the upper right corner. Her gray eyes were focused on the screen
but she kept thinking, One more. One more
client left and then I can leave.
For months she had planned this trip to Paris, picking
the time of the year so the weather was ideal. Her plane ticket was paid for, with
the hotel and events planned. And her luggage was waiting for her in the trunk
of her Ferrari Spyder. All that was left was her and the last clients of the
day, keeping her from reaching her plane on time. Perhaps it had not been smart
for her to buy plane tickets so close to closing time but she hadn't once
thought the wiser because no one was ever late to these meetings.
Not until now at least.
If I miss my
flight because some inconsiderate nobodies-
A piercing beep made her jerk, making her miss the
ball on the screen. The tablet darkened with the words Game Over flaring on the screen. Her pretty face that had already
been tightened into a frown darkened as she glowered at the phone contraption to
the side of her desk that was flashing red next to the text Secretary. The stylist to her tablet hit
the screen with angry taps as she closed out of the game and brought up the
file of the clientele. She set the stylist on the desk next to the papers she
would need and rose, pushing the button in the same motion as she rolled down her
blouse sleeves.
"Yes?"
"Rachel, the couple is-" her secretary
started happily.
"Lane, call me Ms Lane," she snapped at the
woman, "This is a profession workplace, Mrs Jennings, please do not force
me to write another citation."
There was a pause on the other end as Rachel grabbed
her suit coat and swept her arms in each sleeve before buttoning it. The woman
murmured, "Uh, yes... sorry, Ms Lane."
"What is it, Mrs Jennings?"
"The Wellington's are here for their
meeting."
Taking out a compact mirror from the drawers to her
desk she looked over her make-up and blonde hair pulled back into a bun. "About
time, send them in."
The connection severed as she put the compact away and
sat back down in the chair, skimming over the files in her tablet for the
couple. She didn't have to wait long when a knock sounded at her door. Calling
them in, she didn't look up as she offered them to sit down. Yes, she knew she
was supposed to shake their hands and be bubbly. Perfect. But they were late!
No one was ever late to meetings like these. She made them sit there, fidgeting
as they waited for her to speak. Finally her own curiosity at who this couple
that showed up overdue to this joyful event was got to her and she looked up.
The couple looked plain. Not ugly or wrong. But at the
same time nothing of real interest popped out at Rachel as she studied them.
The wife's eyes were pinched at the side with anxiousness and excitement, like
every other wife Rachel saw sitting in the chairs before her desk. The husband
tried to smile only to rub his palms on his gray suit pants. Like all that made
appointments with her they were dressed nicely and presented their best to her.
But in those seconds all she saw were homely people trying too hard to be
something they were not: Rich.
Rachel kept the smile on her lips, not letting them
see that she knew their secret as she folded her fingers together on the desk.
"Welcome to Naturally Perfect, thank you for choosing our company for this
next step to your family. Have you settled on a package?"
The couple's faces blanked before looking at each
other with uncertainty. Her smile slipped with frustration but only for a
moment as she opened a drawer and drew out the laminated paper that listed all
of the packages. She pushed her tablet and the other papers aside and set it
down before them. Normally all couples had looked up a plethora of information
online, knowing what they wanted long before this meeting. At this rate she
wasn't going to make that plane.
"The most basic package covers all genetic
diseases and allows you to choose three traits." She pointed to the top of
the list and surprisingly they didn't lean over to read the laminated paper.
"Whether that be boy or a girl. Base ranges for eye color or hair color.
Of course if you want more exact colors that will cost more."
The wife shook her head. "We don't want
that."
Puzzled, Rachel stared at both of them with a small
frown. Her finger slid down the list. "Well, the next package goes up
in-"
Again, they exchanged nervous looks as Mr Wellington
said, "No, we don't want a package."
He reached out for his wife's hand and she took it,
both squeezing as Mrs Wellington added, "We picked Naturally Perfect
because you were the only company to allow us to do it the old way. You know,
randomly without genetic altering."
Rachel backed away from the laminate paper. When was
the last time anyone wanted to have a child the old way? Not since she had been
working here and that was more than five years now! And even through the
whispers she heard from other "child designers", she had not heard of
something like this happening for over a decade now. Swallowing she nodded, her
mind unable to process what was happening as she searched the piles of paper
for that once unimportant piece that would allow the couple to have what they
wanted: an unaltered child.
The wife continued, "We know that we will be in
charge of any disease or ill effects this may have on the child and are willing
to face it."
Again she could only nod, face pale and body shaking
as she withdrew the needed paper from the rest. "A-As long as y-you know
this, Mrs Wellington... Mr Wellington..." Rachel glanced at him and he smiled,
no longer anxious.
It took ten minutes to finish up with the clients
before she fled her office, making it to the terminal on time. However, she
missed the plane in her haste, forgetting the ticket in her office desk.
~~~~
Again, any feedback will be helpful!
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