“No,” I said, “You’ll finish as per our original agreement. End of discussion.”

I dropped the slick black phone back on its receiver and leaned back in my chair. My eyes strayed over to the corner windows and I looked out at the other side of Madison Avenue.

I used to live for this. This, at this specific instance, being pushing through an agreement with a rival to open up new inroads into developing markets.

Something that promised to add at least two points to the stock valuation by the end of this quarter.

But now all I wanted was her. Rachel. I wanted to look into her eyes, wanted to kiss her, wanted to hold her...

The Manhattan skyline became fuzzy and featureless while I concentrated on the image of Rachel.

Somewhere distant, I heard my office phone ringing. Except modern phones didn’t really ring anymore, did they?

No, it was more like some sort of tonal warble.

Who was it told me that? Oh, yes, Rachel. I found that we complemented each other so well, despite our lives being so different.

In any case, my phone continued warbling on my desk and I continued ignoring it.

“Neil? Neil! Neil!”

I looked up. Gigi stood in front of my desk, her chest and shoulders heaving and flushed. She had an expression pinching her face. Concern? No, definitely irritation.

“What is it?” I said.

“When your phone rings you need to answer it,” Gigi said, gesturing to the aforementioned phone. It was silent for the moment.

I shook my head, “No, I don’t. If I want you, I’ll call you.”

Gigi slunk around to my side of the desk and sat on it, her long hair hanging nearly all the way to the surface when she leaned back a little.

The act of sitting, though I suppose it was more of a lean, made her skirt ride some distance up her thighs.

She reeked of perfume, and it tickled my sinuses.

“And you do want me, don’t you?” Gigi said.

“No,” I said.

And I had to admit that I did take some pleasure in the expression of shock that twisted her usually beautiful face.

“What? Why not?” she said.

I stood up from my desk and walked over to the windows. I didn’t feel comfortable with her so close. And I also thought if I sat there much longer that aura of perfume around her would send me into a sneezing fit.

Still, I did turn to face her. Anything worth saying was worth saying to the other person’s face, if it all possible.

“For one, Gigi, I’m not interested in you. And two, I’m with someone else.”

Thunderheads gathered on her forehead for a moment before dissipating. She smiled. “Of course you're with someone else. For a week or two. Then you’ll be done with her. You always do it that way.”

“Not anymore,” I said.

I did have that reputation, what the media liked to call my insatiability.

However, I knew then that that wasn’t correct at all. It wasn’t that I wanted a new woman constantly. Or that I didn’t enjoy my past flings.

I knew then that I’d been searching, and it only took me a week or two with most women to know that they weren’t the ones for me.

But that’s changed now, hasn’t it? Because I’ve found the one I want.

The thunderheads returned to Gigi’s expression. “You’re not tired of your little worker bee yet?”

“No,” I said, then I picked up on the subtext, “You know about her?”

This time when she smiled I saw far too many teeth. The grin of some great and malicious predator. A lioness, out for the kill.

“Of course I know about Rachel!” she said, “You’ve had me schedule your time off, remember? Moving meetings and conference calls. Like this last weekend.”

“I did tell you to move those things around, but never because I was seeing someone. And I know I never said her name.”

“It came up. I know it did,” Gigi said, “Just like I know it’s not going to last between the two of you.”

That angered me. Made my heart pump hot and hard, my stomach clench up. “Get out of here, Gigi. Get out now.”

She paled at the expression on my face. I had to give credit where credit was due, however. She pushed away from my desk, straightened out her skirt, and left at a hurried walk rather than a run.

I watched the door for a moment before turning back to the window. I rested one wrist against the thick pane of the glass and looked down at the street, where the taxis and the pedestrians streamed in all directions.

I wasn’t angry just at Gigi, I knew. Also at myself. I was being foolish if I thought that I could keep hiding this from everyone. If Gigi knew, others would also find out.

And why haven’t you come clean about everything with Rachel?

I knew why. Because I didn’t want things to change. I mean, she saw where I lived, the type of car I drove. But she didn’t know everything.

And why?

Because I’m selfish and jealous, I knew. I wanted her all for myself. The real me, the one at home and out with her. Not the way that sat behind that big oak desk.

And I thought, feared more like, that if she knew everything that things between us would change. I didn’t want that.

But I also knew that I did need to tell her.

I dug my iPhone out of my pocket. I started typing everything up. One gigantic, infodump of a text.

I couldn’t send it, though. I held my thumb over the little delete icon until the whole message disappeared.

Anything worth saying is worth saying face to face.

So instead I sent a much briefer message.

I need to see you tonight. Big news. Say yes.

Looking back, I also should have read more into Gigi. Into her knowing. Into that predator expression.

I didn’t usually underestimate people, but in that moment of anger I underestimated her. It cost me.