I tried to giggle it away, but I sounded like a tittering schoolgirl. But so damn what? James and I had always flirted, just innocent office innuendo. Sipping my vodka, I felt numbness in my nose and cheeks where there’d been too much heat moments before.
"You should go to your husband," he said in a slow, dismissive drawl. Sometimes Louisiana still showed up in his voice.
"Screw my husband."
"No thanks," James laughed. He hesitated, chewing his lip. Then he leaned close and whispered, "But if that offer applied to you..." He stood straight up again.
I could have pretended I hadn’t heard him. But his gaze was intense, and even through my vodka haze I saw he was no longer just flirting. I sipped at my glass, which now held nothing but a few ice cubes. James shifted so he blocked my view of the far door where Greg waited. Without a word, James reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a card. "Room four fifteen." He dropped the card into my glass and walked past me to the elevators.
Oh, shit. Greg now had a clear line of sight to me and my glass full of ice and guilt. He shook his head, then tapped a finger to his watch and pointed at the exit. Turning a little too quickly, I stumbled into one of the marketing guys before steadying myself with a hand on the bar. I set the glass down and stared at it.
"All through, ma’am?" The bartender eyed me. "Perhaps some water?" He replaced my glass with another. The world went all slow and swimmy. Then, next to the water glass, the room key reappeared. I glanced at the bartender, who suddenly seemed to have no knowledge that I was standing there.
--pjd
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6 comments:
Very good.
I'm assuming Greg is her husband, but I'm not sure.
This gets a half dozen cupids with raging hardons gleefully spanking each other. Also, smeared chocolates everywhere.
Flirting in front of the hubby, dangerous!
Damn. Good stuff, Pete.
I'm guessing you already know this, but that innocent office stuff so often has a way of biting you in the ass - probably why this is so interesting, especially to those of us who haven't exactly been spending their lives knitting one and pearling two.
And when the husband, who she's already pissed off with, taps his fucking (or non-fucking) watch. Oh yeah. Makes that vodka haze look pretty damn good.
So, what did you ever do with the work this came from?
My kids keep reading over my shoulder. Sheesh, who taught them to read, anyway?
So, will you tell us what she tried to giggle away in the first paragraph? Love the glass full of ice and guilt, and the bartender in the last paragraph.
This is actually from a short story which I wrote and got some comments on but never polished or submitted anywhere. I want to resurrect it this spring and try shopping it about. But it needs some work yet.
This 300 words was about 400 before I pared it down, and it is much better for it. I suspect the entire story is like that.
Thanks, all, for the comments.
Very nice. Nice setup, nice movement. Love the hubby and the guilt in the glass. You could lose 'He stood straight up again'. I find that one sentence awkward, especially compared to the rest.
Great job!
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