As the elevator slowly clicked up to the top floor, Keiara Reid waited with an unprecedented amount of patience, for the ancient tool to reach her floor. When the doors opened, Reid walked past the marble archway that welcomed everyone to Reid Realty. Near the front of the office space was a large mahogany desk, where Cristella Madsen, Reid's secretary took incoming phone calls.
"Yes—she just walked in," Cristella explained over the phone. Keiara stopped and raised a gentle eye brow. Cristella put the person on hold before explaining, "It's the military guy, again. They want to know if they can meet with you about some property they're interested in."
"What time?" Keiara asked. This person had been calling for a week now; she might as well simply face the music.
"Is now a good time?"
"It seems Mrs. Reid does have an opening…" Cristella answered returning back to the phone.
Keiara Reid continued to the back of the floor where her office was. Pushing the large wooden oak door open, then closed again, she sighed in relief. She was happy most of her time was not spent in the hectic from of the office and she was left to peace and tranquility either searching homes around Phoenix or in her office.
Smiling softly she passed the awards that were aligned on the back shelf of her office congratulating her for being the most prominent African-American woman in real estate, or for her aid with the community. Instead she went right to the pictures on her desk. The first was a picture of herself, her husband and their two children, who were only four. On the opposite side of the desk was another picture frame that held two photos. The older one was of herself and her best friend Mikaela Banes, back in high school in Tranquility, California. Both girls were leaning against an old tree by the park, enjoying the sunny day. The picture below that one was a more up to date photo of the two of them. And while nether looked particularly somber, it was evident how time had changed Mikaela. The joyous smile that enlightened their high school photo was now gone and replaced by a small smile that hid so many secrets and thoughts that Keiara didn't know where to begin.
It had been this month three years ago, when she finally came across Mikaela walking down a dirt road 30 miles outside of Phoenix. She was alone, just being dumped and kicked out by another one of her boyfriends and had nowhere to go. Jokingly she had to Keiara that she was going to walk back to Tranquility to see if her Grandmother Abby had any more room in the shitty apartment they had once shared. But the strained humor told a different tale, darker than the sugar coating that she was trying to play off. Mikaela was hurting.
The door to Keiara's office swung open and in entered not the military man she had expected, but a small framed caramel woman. Her hair was tightly spun into a bun and she wore square framed glasses in front of her gentle eyes. Her suit was clean cut and sharp, making Keiara silently wish that the woman had not come on Friday, the day where Keiara's propriety threw itself out of the window.
Gathering up the last of her accordance, Keiara shook the woman's hand and offered her a seat.
"So how may I help you Mrs.…?"
"Ms. Davis. My name is Joan Davis. I am the personal assistant from Mr. Samuel Witwicky."
Keiara's had turned sharply at the name. "Witwicky?"
"Yes, he's the owner of the Transformer toys and also happens to work for the United States Armed Forces," Ms. Davis informed politely.
"Huh," Keiara said, "that's an interesting last name. It sounds oddly familiar, but excuse me what exactly does Mr. Witwicky want with my services?"
"He's looking for some new property. The Air Force is asking for his services in this area and he felt it necessary to find a permanent residence. He also would like to be closer to his home."
"He lived in Arizona?"
"No, California. But Arizona is much closer than Virginia."
"California, really? That's my home state. Okay so, what exactly is Mr. Witwicky looking for in a home?"
"Just a place not too far from the city but not too close," Ms. Davis explained handing over a manila folder. "He would like to have his privacy and needs close proximity to the Air Force base, right outside of town."
"Right, Luke Air Force," Keiara responded looking through the papers. "Well I'm sure that all Mr. Witwicky's needs can be met."
"Excellent," Ms. Davis smiled standing up. "Any price will do, just call the number inside of the folder and I'm sure that Mr. Witwicky will be sure to take it."
Keiara nodded leaning back in her chair. The corner of her eye caught the picture of her and Mikaela again.
"Sam!" Keiara remembered. "Sam Witwicky! He graduated from Tranquility High Class of 2008."
"Yes, that would be him," Ms. Davis confirmed raising an eyebrow.
"Sorry, he was a classmate of mine. I knew the name sounded familiar."
Keiara smiled and looked back down of the picture of her and Mikaela. They had been at the park for Sam's birthday party.
"Well, I must get going," Ms. Davis explained. "Call us if there are any issues."
"Of course. And if you don't mind me asking, when will Sam be in the area?" Keiara asked. After all at had been ten years of a broken Mikaela. Ten years of deep depression and secrets that Keiara felt weak in trying to protect her friend. Ten years since Sam and Mikaela had seen each other.
"Well, that naturally depends on how long it will take for you to find a piece of property that interests him, Mrs. Reid," Ms. Davis answered before making her way out of Keiara's office.
Trust me, Ms. Davis that won't take very long at all, Keiara thought to herself picking up the old picture. Won't take very long at all.