It was early evening when I was waiting at home for Evelyn to get back with her ingredients for dinner. I wasn’t as concerned about eating as I was about seeing her again. The two of us hadn’t been in the same room together since she walked out of the reading room at the fundraising dinner.

 

I was sitting in my living room and so lost in thought that I didn’t realize the elevator chimed. It wasn’t until I heard the clicking of high-heels on my hardwood floor that my ears perked up.

 

I stood up at once and walked over quickly to see who was in my condo since I doubted Evelyn would have gone grocery shopping in heels. I barely had a chance to see who was there when I was being shoved against the wall, two hands feverishly running over every inch of my body.

 

“St- Stacy! What the hell,” I struggled to say as I tried to get her off of me without shoving her back. I didn’t want to be too forceful, but she wasn’t letting up.

 

She stepped back for a second. I took a couple steps back toward the kitchen when she shoved me against the kitchen bar. In a flash she tossed her blouse off over her head and moved in to plant a harsh kiss on my lips. I struggled against her half-naked body, but she wouldn’t budge. I resorted to grabbing her tight by the shoulders and pushing her off of me, at least enough to have a little breathing room. In a flash she slinked up against my side and rubbed her hand over my crotch.

 

I drew a deep breath through my nose. I froze and gripped the edge of the kitchen bar as I felt her hand grab a hold of me. She looked up at me with a proud look on her face. She pushed her breasts into my arm and kept rubbing me hard. A small groan came from my throat and I shut my eyes, willing myself not to feel what she was doing. Everything inside of me screamed, “No!” Maybe I couldn’t stop my body from reacting to her insistent touch, but I could keep a level head and put an end to this once and for all.

 

She slithered on me, moving her body closer to my center, breathing heavily onto my neck. She moaned seductively and panted against my mouth, “Just fuck me already.”

 

I drew in a deep breath and prepared to push her off me, but then I felt her hot breath on my lips. She pushed her mouth against mine, rubbing me harder when she felt I was unresponsive to the kiss. She tugged at my belt and I knew exactly what she was about to do. It felt like now or never. With my mind still racing, I gripped her hand and shoved it away. I took her moment of shock as the opportunity to push her off of me. She stumbled back a little, but then immediately shot me a glare.

 

“Wow. You really don’t give a fuck about your job do you?”

 

“I give a fuck about you,” she shot back, not missing a beat. The answer caught me off guard enough that she had the chance to step forward and plant a kiss on my neck.

 

“Stop,” I growled.

 

I grabbed her by the shoulders and held her at arm’s length away. She stood there glowering at me and still with her top off. I couldn’t think of any other time I was with a topless woman and not had sex with her. In this case, however, I was pretty much repulsed by Stacy. I hated her behavior. She was a splitting image of every woman that I dated in the past. Hot and sexy but utterly empty inside—bland taste.

 

“You know, when I told you to cut this out at the office that wasn’t an invitation for you to come harass me in my home.”

 

Stacy laughed, “You want to talk about harass–”

 

The elevator chimed and the doors slid open. I froze, heart sinking straight down to the floor. I could think of only one person who could had just arrived. Before I had a chance to react, Evelyn walked into the kitchen with a large bag of groceries. Her eyes darted quickly between Stacy and I. I saw her look at Stacy’s bra and blouse on the floor before looking over at me, shock and disgust written all over her face.

 

“Wow,” She said in surprised anger.

 

Stacey looked at Evelyn then back at me, “Who is she?”

 

“My chef,” I muttered. No sooner had the word ‘chef’ left my mouth than I instantly regretted it. I saw the look on Evelyn’s face, her lips pressed into a thin line. I could see just how tightly she was clutching the bag full of groceries. I knew that in that short, two-word answer I just delivered a huge blow to her. And I screwed myself over in the process, as if the situation hadn’t looked bad enough for me already. Still, Evelyn did her best to keep her composure. If I knew anything about her, it was that she wouldn’t allow me to know how deep I had cut her.  She would stand her ground. 

 

“You have a chef?” Stacy practically scoffed.

 

“Yes, I have a chef,” I answered curtly. Her stupid questions only made matters worse. The whole time I was looking over at Evelyn, who was staring at both of us in shock. Her face was as neutral as possible, but I could see everything in her eyes. I saw her arms begin to sag under the weight of the grocery bag she was clutching so tightly, the bottom of it stretching down.

 

“You really are an asshole pig,” Evelyn hissed.

 

Stacy immediately started cracking up. “You’re fucking the chef too?” She laughed loudly and obnoxiously as she stepped back to grab her blouse up off the floor. “Wow, that’s too good. That’s comically good.” She swung the blouse over her shoulder and slowly buttoned it up, shaking her head with laughter the entire time.

 

I watched Evelyn cautiously and thought she was doing an excellent job at hiding her desire to blow up. I took a step closer to her, but stopped at once when I saw her jerk away from me. “It’s not what it looks like,” I mumbled in a pleading tone. I could only hope she would give me a chance to explain, but from the look on her face the chances of that happening didn’t seem all that high.

 

Stacy tugged down at the hem of her shirt and then looked up at Evelyn and I. She laughed again and shook her head before walking out toward the elevator. As soon as I heard the elevator chime I called out, “Stacy, don’t bother coming back to work. Ever.”

 

“You really are the biggest dick, Remi! Of course you’d say that you fucking asshole. Don’t know how to deal with your problems like a real man,” she yelled back. Then I heard her laugh again, “The chef! Too funny!”

 

I didn’t care about Stacy. I didn’t care about any insult she threw at me or the perception she had of me. The only person’s opinion I cared about in that moment was Evelyn; from the looks of it I was losing out on that end too. I looked at her in silence for a moment as I gathered up the courage to launch into an explanation.

 

“Nothing happened. Evelyn, I swear, that wasn’t what–”

 

“Save it,” Evelyn cut me off. She dropped the bag of heavy groceries on the floor with a grunt, a few lemons rolled out and went in different directions.

 

“Evelyn, please–” 

 

She just shook her head, “And you had the nerve to try and say you’re different.”