This doesn't happen to me.
I'm the king at keeping things superficial with women. I've always been good at that, but it's a skill I've honed to a razor’s edge in the last few years because I can't trust anyone anymore.
I replay our conversation from last night, smiling as her laugh rings through my ears. She was on my mind when I finally fell asleep and the first thing I thought of when I woke up with a smile and a raging hard-on.
I grab the desk phone and press the intercom.
"Can I help you, Mr. Landry?"
"Yes, Rose. Can you order some lunch, please? Have it delivered?"
"Sure, sir. Your usual?"
"No,” I draw out. “Actually, I'd like to try someplace new. Have you heard of Hillary's House?"
"Yes. Of course."
I smile. "Excellent. Will you order me something? Get yourself some lunch too."
"Absolutely."
My grin grows deeper. "And can you see if an Alison Baker is working? If so, I'd like her to deliver."
"No problem."
"Rose?"
"Yes."
"Please keep my request quiet. Just tell the owner that I'll pay extra for the inconvenience, but I'd appreciate it, being that it's election season and all, that she doesn't know where she's going."
"Makes sense. I'll have something here soon."
Alison
"Free at last!" I sing, smiling at my co-workers and tossing a towel in the laundry chute at Hillary’s House. "That lunch rush just about killed me. The next time you make meatloaf, Opal, I'm calling in sick! I swear it brings them in from all over the city."
"Yeah, but you're done now," Opal sighs, sticking another tray of food in the warming drawer. "I'm here for another two hours."
"It'll go quick if you don't think about it," I wink. "Have fun! I'm out of here."
"Anything fun planned?"
"Just a long, over-filled bubble bath,” I sigh dreamily. “Hux is with my dad this afternoon fishing and I’m caught up on my homework for once. So I’m taking a few minutes and just pampering myself.”
Opal smiles. “Oh, honey, you need to do that. You never take time just for you.”
“It’s what mothers do, right?” I grab my timecard out of the slot and go to punch out. I stop, mid-air, when my boss comes around the corner. Her long, blonde hair is pulled back into a braid, her pink bottom lip in between her teeth. The way her eyebrows are scrunched, I know I'm screwed.
"Hey, Hillary," I say, my voice saturated with cheeriness. "How are you? I'm just leaving."
"Oh, is it time for you to go?" She acts surprised and checks her watch for emphasis. "Darn. It is."
"It is. Darn," I say, but I don't punch out. Hillary's House is a great job. Not to mention she's about the sweetest person I know. So if she wants me to stay, she knows I will. Damn her.
"You wouldn't happen to want to do me one little bitty ol’ favor, would you?"
"No," I tease, shaking my head.