Page 51 of Statler

“Don’t worry, boss,” Blue assured him, “There’ll be no artificial scents added. I promise.”

Since Blue was clearly the one in charge, Stat believed her and left them to it.

In ten minutes, he needed to be out of here.

And he had sandwiches to make.

* * *

Twenty minutes later he was pulling up in front of the factory.

It was the first time he’d been to the place after hours, and was surprised at what a ghost-ship it was. It seemed that once the quitting bell rang, the floor-people were out of there.

The only one left was…

Eliza.

And she looked…so damned cute.

In the old-fashioned buttoned up dress, she was pretty damned adorable. He imagined what she’d look like in tight jeans, with her hair swirling down around her shoulders, and the thought almost had him hard.

Statler made sure his tongue remained in his mouth.

Putting his truck —which he almost didn’t recognize—in park, he got out as she walked toward him.

“Hi,” he said, because he couldn’t quite form other words yet.

“Hi, yourself,” she said back.

He could do this.

“Will your car be alright, here?” he asked, glancing at the Toyota that no one in their right mind would ever steal.

Eliza laughed. “I can see your face, you know. You think she’s worthless, but don’t make fun of Bertha. She’s my baby. And your truck…” she glanced over at his rust bucket with a smirk, “…has also seen better days.”

“Shh. The Beast will hear you,” he countered, putting a finger to his lips.

She laughed again, and Statler wanted to keep that up.

“You call it The Beast?” she giggled.

“You call yours, Bertha?” he countered with a grin.

“Touché,” she allowed. “You know… Maybe Bertha and The Beast will become friends.”

“Or a Disney movie,” Statler supplied.

Eliza threw back her head and laughed again, the pale expanse of her neck making Statler want to lean forward and kiss the entire length of that slender column.

Oh, lord.

He was in some serious trouble.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Well, this just sucked.

Eliza was so screwed.