Four
Melanie
Two months later
My best friend Beth has been pestering me for not dating lately so I reluctantly agree to go out with a trainer from her gym. I told her to pick a mutual place for us to meet and I'd meet him there after work. She said he's really nice and helpful. Plus, when she showed me his picture, he was very easy on the eyes. Even if I don't date much anymore, I still go into a new venture with my tits held high.
This day has dragged on because I'm excited for a new date, despite my earlier protests. Plus, I have my go-to lucky date heels in the bottom of my desk drawer. My black patent leather double strapped Mary-Janes are perfect with any outfit. They're my version of a little black dress.
Five-o-clock takes forever to roll around. I gather my make-up bag from my desk drawer and head to the bathroom to get ready for the date. When I leave the bathroom, I bump into a wall of lawyer.
Oh my god that cologne. It's a six foot three hot lawyer.
It's Shane.
His large strong hands grip onto my elbows to keep me from tripping over my heels. Somehow, they bring me closer to him and he starts rubbing the soft skin with his thumbs. His lips are barely an inch away from my forehead and I can feel his minty-fresh breath trickling down my cheeks.
"Miss Cromwell. In a hurry?"
"Yes, I have plans that I don't want to be late to." I taunt him just a little while walking out of the office by adding some extra sway to my hips. "My work is finished for the day if that's what you're worried about and all of my notes are left in the company memo if you're in need of them. Please excuse me Mr. Thompson as I don't want to keep my date waiting."
I swiftly move around him, but still watch from my peripheral as his nostrils flare as my body brushes with his. If I'm not mistaken, Shane is slightly jealous, and it does not go unnoticed by me. I know I'm playing a dangerous game, but our brief meetings in the last two months have not squashed my crush. I want him to salivate for me for a change.
I can feel him catch up to me towards the elevators. His body is mere inches from mine as we wait for the doors to open up. As the doors slide open, Shane steps first to keep the doors open as I take a spot inside of the box. He walks in next to me and hits the button for the lobby.
The elevator mirrors are probably going to steam up from all of the tension in here. If I wasn't the one who started this game, by moving my body against his and mentioning my date, then I might feel claustrophobic from his nearness. He might have said I'm no different then the other women he's had in his life then it's his loss. Doesn't mean I can't torture him a bit.
I pull my favorite burgundy matte lipstick from my bag and slowly apply it to my lips. The mirrors in the elevator show the red evident on his face while he's standing behind me. Glancing down, I can see his hands fisted at his side. I pout my lips for a second before I adjust the lines, lightly licking my lip as the descent in the elevator comes to an end. I tousle my honey blond waves a little bit and am satisfied for my appearance.
When the elevator dings and we both exit, I say sweetly, "You have a pleasant evening, Mr. Thompson."
I watch him quickly adjust his suit pants as I speed up. I hope he watches my ass and goes home in pure blue ball pain.
No different my ass.
The next morning, I can sense Shane staring at me. Part of me wonder if he tries watching for me today to see if I'm still in the same clothes from last night or have a post-sex glow across my face. If anything, I probably look frustrated, tired, and miserable. I feel hungover even though I didn't have a drop to drink last night. I was awake all night in pure distraction and guilt.
Okay and a little anger too.
I kept thinking about Shane the whole date and was mad that he kept squeezing into my every thought. I felt bad because the guy was nice enough and definitely good looking, but extremely boring. All he talked about was training. Healthy eating this and conditioning that. Blah blah blah. He ran marathons all year round and worked with clients. That was about it. I don't mind a man who works out, not one bit, but if that's the extent of the conversational skills, I might put ear plugs in.
I've been pretty much on the warpath all of this morning, breaking pen cap after pen cap and giving Shane the stink-eye when his back is turned. Although, I'd also hoped he was watching. This day just keeps rolling in a big vat of dog shit. It's bad enough that I still haven't heard about making Junior Partner. My platforms are aching to hit somebody.
My phone rings through the steam coming from my ears. I pick up curtly, "Melanie Cromwell."
The voice on the other end is one I didn't expect to hear. The voice states, "This is Ms. Henson. Mr. Thompson would like to see you in his office immediately Miss Cromwell."
Confusion and more anger fall through me. "May I ask what this is in reference to?"
"He didn't say. Just that your presence is requested now."
"I'll be right there." I put the phone back in its cradle and take a few deep breaths. I really hope the game with him yesterday didn't screw up my chances for promotions. I stand up, smooth out my skirt, and pick off some fake lint if only to waste a few more precious seconds of my irritated mental state until I have to become Miss Professional again. I gather my notepad and tablet before heading upstairs to Shane's office.
My anger is palpable as I wanted to avoid Shane all day so I could simmer down and not act on the fantasies I've had the last two days. Watching him last night in the elevator and teasing him, but then remembering that he's the one who rejected me sits sourly in my stomach. The mental state seems to continue no matter what.
God. How could I jeopardize my career over a silly crush?
I went too far and now I'm probably gonna be kicked back to super gopher status or worse, fired. The walk to his office is too short and I almost pound on the doorway since I didn't see Ms. Henson at her desk to call for him. I might as well get this over with.
The headache I was sporting earlier is getting worse and I wish I could go home to sleep. Fat chance of that happening, so I'm stuck until I hear his voice. "Miss Cromwell, please come in and have a seat."
I don't even make eye contact as I sit in the chair closest to the door and cross my legs at the ankles. I leave my notebook and tablet in my lap and fidget with my pen. After I take one more deep breath, I hesitantly look at him standing next to his bookcase. His office looks far more intimidating than it did last time. There's an air of darkness coming in from the windows as the gray clouds move in over the city. A storm is brewing outside as one is waiting to explode inside my head.
I clear my throat, keeping my voice as even as possible. "Your secretary didn't mention what his meeting was in reference to Mr. Thompson. I'm afraid I'm at a disadvantage here."
He turns and unbuttons his suit jacket then moves to lean against his desk staring down at me. The last time we were like this, I fell into his lap and kissed him. I know he's thinking about it too because his waist is at eyeball level and presently twitching in his black suit pants. But the hard look on his face tells me that he's trying to hold back his true thoughts.
I feel about two feet tall as begins to talk. "I wanted to talk to you about last night. My behavior was inexcusable and I hope that we can maintain our professional standards here. I see such promise with your career and I don't want to steer you away from your goals. 1 believe we can move on from all past indiscretions. Do you understand what I'm referring to now Miss Cromwell?"
Irritated is an understatement at how I feel at this moment. Downright pissed off bitch is probably the title I would give myself. I need to get out of this office right the fuck now before I say something that could really get me fired. He's given me a huge ass gift of not demoting me or kicking my ass out of this building, so I'm trying not to look a gift horse in the mouth.
"Yes, Mr. Thompson, I understand more than you know. If that will be all, I'd like to return to the work on my plate." I stand up and turn my back towards him. I can feel him walking behind me towards the door and I refrain from looking at him. If I did, he'd either see the hurt on my face or I just might smack him. Neither will make me feel better so I keep walking with my dignity in tact.
"Have a good rest of the day Miss Cromwell."