Chapter 7: Andrea
One of the perks of working at IDS, aside from hanging out with hot billionaires, of course, was the free food and drink and assorted goodies that were always around.
There was a breakroom on every floor, each offering free sodas, juices, coffee, tea, bottled water, fresh fruit and yogurt, granola and protein bars, an assortment of bagels (mmm… cinnamon raisin), ten flavors of cream cheese (mmm… strawberry), and for those with a sweet tooth, every kind of donut known to man, fruit Danish, and other goodies that helped pack on the pounds.
I did my best to stay away from it all. I was no longer in school, but I still considered myself to be an athlete, still ran five miles a day and played volleyball on a community team. So far I had managed to avoid what was called the “IDS 15”, which was the IDS version of the “Freshman 15”, which referred to the 15 pounds most college freshmen (girls, mostly) put on their first few months away at college. Judging by many of my coworkers, it should have been called the IDS 25 or 30. It was hard to turn down free junk food, no matter how health conscious you were.
Then there was cafeteria on the main floor, which was like a large mall food court, with stations serving every kind of food you could imagine: fresh seafood, sushi, stir fry, wraps, hoagies, pitas, gyros, sandwiches, burgers, hot dogs, fries, baked potatoes, fried or baked chicken, ten kinds of soup, salads, sandwiches… you name it, they served it, and it was all free and you were welcome to take all you liked, but as the sign read, “Eat all you take.”
I usually just grabbed a turkey sandwich and chips—and a giant Mountain Dew (it’s my crack)—but today I opted for a pitiful little Caesar salad with no dressing and a bottled water. I know, pathetic, right? I was so worried about sitting across the table from Sammy Branniff and making a good impression that my stomach was churning. I would be doing good to hold down the salad. I was a great lay, but I could be a lousy date.
I found a table toward the back next to the window that looked out over the rolling hills and large duck pond (yes, IDS had a duck pond) where we wouldn’t be in the flow of traffic. There were usually three or four hundred diners in the cafeteria at any given time and the place could be a bit of a madhouse, especially given that many of those diners were younger than me and barely out of college. IDS could be a bit of a frat party at times, especially on Friday afternoons or the day of a big rollout. It was one of the things I loved about working there. I found chaos super motivating, but also a bit distracting.
That said, I didn’t want Sammy and I to have to yell at each other, so I chose the table in the back. I kept telling myself that I hadn’t chosen that table hoping that nobody would see us together. I mean, how do you miss a six-foot-tall redhead having lunch with a six-foot-six former linebacker. No matter where we were, we would stick out like a couple of large sore thumbs.
I sat facing the door so I could see Sammy come in. I didn’t know whether to start eating or wait for him. I glanced at my watch. He was already ten minutes late. Then it hit me… what if he wasn’t coming? What if Denny was just fucking with me and Sammy hadn’t asked about me at all? That son of a bitch! I will…
“Hi.”
His deep voice startled me. I looked up mid-rant and saw Sammy standing there, towering over me, a great big, beautiful bear of a man holding a tray between his hands that was layered with food: a couple burgers, a couple of hotdogs, a huge mound of fries, a big chunk of chocolate cake, an apple, a banana, a large soda... Sammy obviously wasn’t worried about impressing me with his diet. I gave my pathetic salad a sad glance and wished for a turkey sandwich.
I looked up and mustered a smile. “Hi.”
“Can I sit down?” he asked, nodding at the chair across from me.
I shook my head like an idiot and gestured at the chair like a Price is Right model. “Of course, sorry, duh…”
Sammy sat down and unloaded his tray on the table without saying anything else. He reached for the ketchup and doused the fries with it, then picked up one of the burgers and brought it to his wide-open mouth. He bit the burger in half with one bite and started chewing like a cow with a mouthful of cud. He sighed happily as he chewed. Our eyes met when he looked over the burger to find me staring at him.
“Oh, uh, sorry,” he said, lowering the burger so I could see his face. He chewed faster and tried to swallow. He wiped his mouth on the back of his hand and smiled. He had a wonderful smile. “I’m not being rude… I’m just…”
“Hungry?” I asked, flexing my eyebrows at him. I pushed the salad to the side of the table and helped myself to a fry. I swirled it through the ketchup and munched off the end, then licked the ketchup from my lips. “Me, too.”