staring at the closed
apartment door, Cirque du Soleil doing flips in my stomach
wondering, “What have I gotten myself into?”
I turned around and the
panoramic scene of the living room, with clothes still flung
recklessly about, met my eyes. As I began cleaning up, picking up
my sweater, skirt and shoes, I reached for my purse, perched askew
on the edge of the table and fished out my cell phone. Damn! It’s probably
dead. In my fervent hunger-lust for Patrick I had forgotten to put
it on the charger.
OMG! Five missed calls and a gazillion texts from Elyse! I
scrolled up the missed calls list and hit the reply button for
Elyse, bracing myself for what would come next.
“ My God Chloe, are you
alive? Where’ve you been? “My friend shot out a rapid fire hail of
questions. “Can’t you send a girl a text?”
“ I’m sorry. I know. I know.
I’m bad.” I was dying to tell all.
“ I was sooo bad... And it
was sooo good!” I played with the words to heighten her curiosity
even more. She didn’t need to put the screws to my thumbs. I sang
like a choirboy, spilling my guts about the previous night’s
events, my voice squeaking with excitement as I gleefully divulged
the delights of Patrick. A glance at the clock and I realized I
still had to shower and get ready for work and much to Elyse’s
chagrin, I had to cut her short. She pressed me for all the dirt,
but I just couldn’t bring myself to reveal the horrid details of
the dark washroom incident with the Baroness. So I begged off with
the excuse that I had to catch the bus soon and ended the
call.
I literally twirled and
danced my way into the shower to get ready, girlish giggles
bubbling up to my lips; a silly tune playing in my head to the beat
of the “conga line” song,
“I-got-Pat-rick-Col-ins. I-got-Pat-rick-Col-ins.”
I mused at how I would
nonchalantly saunter into the office today, keeping a poker face in
front of the gawking office hens who would be hulking over me like
vultures, and waiting for some tell-tale sign of happiness or joy.
Some of my female co-workers were ruthless gossips seeking to live
vicariously through the escapades of others. It gave me a creepy
voyeuristic feeling, being someone else’s entertainment. They must
like to watch. Yuk!
But truth be told, my mind
was twisting and turning with more important things. There would be
various scenarios I would have to encounter while working with
Patrick in the office. How was I going to handle it? Cool as a cucumber Chloe, cool as a
cucumber. I couldn’t allow my actions to
reveal the steeping sexual tension building up between
us.
Argh! Sleeping with the
boss Chloe, sleeping with the boss.
My mother’s voice was
chirping in my head. I wrinkled my forehead into a frown. That
voice was always such a killjoy. Where’s the mute button for the
mother voice when you need it?
Dreamy sweet Patrick. My
heartbeat quickened every time I thought of his kisses and now,
after a night in his arms, I had more fuel to the fire my steamy
daydreams of surrender. Surely I would be a mess at work until the
art exhibit on Friday.
Chapter 7
“ Liz, I need a huge favor.
Can you help me?” I whimpered.
Elyse looked up from her
desk with curiousness and surprise. “Why
are you still here Chloe? Don’t you have an art exhibit to get
ready for?”
“ I do, I do, but that
stupid jerk Jeff from the accounting manager’s office, who
obviously hates me, just ordered me to type up twenty pages of
notes and he wants them today.” I exclaimed desperately. I was
holding out the stack of papers that he had just handed me, giving
Elyse the most begging facial expression that I could possibly
manage.
“ Any chance you could...” I
pleaded.
“ Give me those papers you
little crybaby,” Elyse offered.
“ Thank you sweetie, thank
you sooooo much”, I uttered delightfully and quickly forked over
the papers before she could have a change of heart.
“ Yea, yea. You owe me one,
Chloe,“ she
apartment door, Cirque du Soleil doing flips in my stomach
wondering, “What have I gotten myself into?”
I turned around and the
panoramic scene of the living room, with clothes still flung
recklessly about, met my eyes. As I began cleaning up, picking up
my sweater, skirt and shoes, I reached for my purse, perched askew
on the edge of the table and fished out my cell phone. Damn! It’s probably
dead. In my fervent hunger-lust for Patrick I had forgotten to put
it on the charger.
OMG! Five missed calls and a gazillion texts from Elyse! I
scrolled up the missed calls list and hit the reply button for
Elyse, bracing myself for what would come next.
“ My God Chloe, are you
alive? Where’ve you been? “My friend shot out a rapid fire hail of
questions. “Can’t you send a girl a text?”
“ I’m sorry. I know. I know.
I’m bad.” I was dying to tell all.
“ I was sooo bad... And it
was sooo good!” I played with the words to heighten her curiosity
even more. She didn’t need to put the screws to my thumbs. I sang
like a choirboy, spilling my guts about the previous night’s
events, my voice squeaking with excitement as I gleefully divulged
the delights of Patrick. A glance at the clock and I realized I
still had to shower and get ready for work and much to Elyse’s
chagrin, I had to cut her short. She pressed me for all the dirt,
but I just couldn’t bring myself to reveal the horrid details of
the dark washroom incident with the Baroness. So I begged off with
the excuse that I had to catch the bus soon and ended the
call.
I literally twirled and
danced my way into the shower to get ready, girlish giggles
bubbling up to my lips; a silly tune playing in my head to the beat
of the “conga line” song,
“I-got-Pat-rick-Col-ins. I-got-Pat-rick-Col-ins.”
I mused at how I would
nonchalantly saunter into the office today, keeping a poker face in
front of the gawking office hens who would be hulking over me like
vultures, and waiting for some tell-tale sign of happiness or joy.
Some of my female co-workers were ruthless gossips seeking to live
vicariously through the escapades of others. It gave me a creepy
voyeuristic feeling, being someone else’s entertainment. They must
like to watch. Yuk!
But truth be told, my mind
was twisting and turning with more important things. There would be
various scenarios I would have to encounter while working with
Patrick in the office. How was I going to handle it? Cool as a cucumber Chloe, cool as a
cucumber. I couldn’t allow my actions to
reveal the steeping sexual tension building up between
us.
Argh! Sleeping with the
boss Chloe, sleeping with the boss.
My mother’s voice was
chirping in my head. I wrinkled my forehead into a frown. That
voice was always such a killjoy. Where’s the mute button for the
mother voice when you need it?
Dreamy sweet Patrick. My
heartbeat quickened every time I thought of his kisses and now,
after a night in his arms, I had more fuel to the fire my steamy
daydreams of surrender. Surely I would be a mess at work until the
art exhibit on Friday.
Chapter 7
“ Liz, I need a huge favor.
Can you help me?” I whimpered.
Elyse looked up from her
desk with curiousness and surprise. “Why
are you still here Chloe? Don’t you have an art exhibit to get
ready for?”
“ I do, I do, but that
stupid jerk Jeff from the accounting manager’s office, who
obviously hates me, just ordered me to type up twenty pages of
notes and he wants them today.” I exclaimed desperately. I was
holding out the stack of papers that he had just handed me, giving
Elyse the most begging facial expression that I could possibly
manage.
“ Any chance you could...” I
pleaded.
“ Give me those papers you
little crybaby,” Elyse offered.
“ Thank you sweetie, thank
you sooooo much”, I uttered delightfully and quickly forked over
the papers before she could have a change of heart.
“ Yea, yea. You owe me one,
Chloe,“ she
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