Because after thinking for a while, I decided he didn’t mean anything by the kiss. He was just giving me a friendly good-night smooch. I shouldn’t have reacted like I’ve never kissed a man before. I probably made it weird for both of us by acting like he shoved a tongue down my throat or something.
Regardless, it was smart of me to review the baking videos David bought. He got them to do something nice for me, even though it was his birthday, not mine. The chocolate lava cake did the job of smoothing things out. Mom was right when she told me that a little sugar can always make things better. She also told me only the people with the clearest, sharpest minds can make really good cakes and cookies.
I type up the executive memo David needs for his teleconference with Joe Choi’s dev team in San Mateo half an hour from now. When I’m done, I send it to him.
Bev Sanders comes by. “Hey, Erin.” Her hair is a shocking shade of red, which I’m certain came from a bottle. She wears lens-less glasses, which she says are for fashion only, and she color-coordinates her lipstick to the frames.
“Hi, Bev,” I say with a polite smile. Bev’s an accounting assistant, and quite friendly. Sometimes overly so. I’d prefer that she stay a bit more neutral…and far less nosy, but I keep that to myself, since I can’t think of a good way to tell her to leave me alone without appearing rude.
“Tiring weekend, huh?” She winks mischievously.
“Huh?”
“You’ve got dark circles under your eyes.”
Crap. I thought I hid them with concealer. I didn’t get much sleep last night, thinking about the kiss. And what to do about David when I faced him again. Okay, I might’ve had a dream about David, too. It wasn’t dirty or anything. Just maybe slightly PG-13. Because in it, he was in nothing but a white towel around his waist, displaying his impressive chest and shoulders. And he was outside my door kissing me. And I didn’t freeze. I kissed him back. And it felt like the sweetest fairy tale that sweeps you off your feet and gives you everything you’ve always longed for.
Just thinking about that makes me want to squirm in my chair to relieve the uncomfortable pressure between my legs.
Bev braces her forearms on the partition and leans closer. “So. Who’s the lucky guy?”
Good thing I wasn’t drinking when she asked me that, because I might’ve spewed it on my laptop…or her. Either of which would
be bad.
“What guy?” I ask, freaking out inside, wondering if she can tell I was fantasizing about my boss.
“Come on. You wouldn’t be missing sleep otherwise. Amazing stamina, huh?” She giggles.
“Oh. That.” I try for a carefree laugh. “No, I was up watching some training videos.” It’s half a lie. Or, come to think of it, a half-truth. I’m trying to be a “glass half-full” kind of person.
She makes a face. “Insomnia, huh? Nothing cures it like those videos.”
“Actually, they’re really interesting,” I say. Besides, I feel like I should make up for the deficit of not having a college degree. I overheard HR people gossiping, and they basically said all the assistants at Sweet Darlings have bachelor’s degrees.
“Giiiirl.” Bev straightens, waving a hand. “I need to show you interesting. You should join us for a movie. There’s a new Ryder Reed action flick out. Operation: Termination.”
“No thanks.” Agreeing to spend time with her outside of work is only going to invite even more friendliness and more nosiness. “I’m busy.”
“You have free time on weekends, right?”
I give her a pat smile. “It really depends. I have to check my calendar.”
“Well. Somebody’s got a busy social life.” Bev’s voice is half teasing, half wistful. “All right. Text me if you can hang out.”
“Hey, can I text you?” Gerry says. He’s a new hire in marketing. A clean-cut Northwestern graduate. He’s got that golden all-American look that makes him seem almost angelic. So long as you don’t notice the smarmy way he talks to women.
“You?” Bev says, surprised.
“It’s an action movie, and you know I like those,” he says, then tosses a flirty smile in my direction. “Right, Erin?”
“No idea,” I say.
“Ah, come on. I mentioned it at the last meeting.”
“I was busy taking notes.”
“Well, apparently you didn’t take all of them,” he says, acting like a professor reprimanding a particularly dimwitted student.