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The sound of the elevator closing jolts my mind from the gym back to our present close proximity.
Well, here’s my chance. It’s now or never. I break the ice. “Aren’t you leaving work like the rest of us?” Stupid question, but that’s okay; he’ll say something. I just want to watch his sexy, delicious lips move.
“I need to get something from my office first, Miss?”
I ignore his curious voice inflection, signaling me to say my name. What fun would that be if I told him right away?
“Oh, I see,” I respond, waiting for him to say more. If he’s interested, he’ll part his scrumptious lips and talk to me. He looks at me more intensely as if he’s trying to figure out something. Then with a moment of realization, he inquires, “Hey, aren’t you the young lady at the gym who dances after the aerobics class?”
“Perhaps.” I’m not quick to say “yes” because I’m not sure what he thinks about my dancing.
The elevator dings at the twenty-first floor and more people enter. It’s always a long journey to the lobby. The metal doors close and we continue to descend.
“That is you. You look good out there.” His compliment makes me relax and enjoy our small talk.
“I didn’t know anyone watches,” I lie just to see what he says.
“I bet that you hear someone clap at the end of your routine. Who do you think that is?”
“I often wonder who’s applauding. Is that you?” I ask, drooling over what I know is beneath his stylish attire—the big bulge and muscles for days. I try to maintain eye contact with him but I can’t help but to look below his belt just this once. I don’t feel too bad. Hell, he’s looking at my 36DDs. Our eyes meet again.
“Perhaps it’s me. How long have you been with Clark and Howard, Miss…? And what floor do you work on?”
Yes! He’s diggin’ me, too. “My name is Connie Winslow. I’ve been here for six months and I work on the thirty-fifth.”
“The legal department, huh?”
“Yes.” Now watch him think I’m an administrative assistant or paralegal.
“What position do you hold?” he asks carefully. The brother has tact. I like that.
“I’m an assistant attorney.”
He clears his throat as if surprised at my answer. “Damn, that’s impressive. You look so young.”
“Trust me; I’m older than I look. People often think I’m younger than I really am.”
The elevator stops again and more people get in.
“Forgive my manners, sir, I didn’t catch your name.” “Sir” is so formal but he looks at least eight years my senior.
“Bishop. Bishop Thomas. Pleased to meet you, Connie.” He extends his hand and I feel strangely stimulated when we shake.
“Interesting name. Any particular reason you’re named Bishop?”
“Yeah, there’s a story behind it, but it’ll take longer than this elevator ride to tell you.” He smiles with each word and the people on the elevator pretend to look at the red numbers count down. I hear a man cough in the far-right corner, but I’m not fazed by Bishop’s obviously bold response. I take it as a naughty, playful gesture. I see where this sly remark is headed, right where I want it. Silly man in the corner just doesn’t know.
“Mmmm, let’s see…” I cup my chin as if in deep thought. “Perhaps at some point in your life, you anointed someone,” I say playfully.
“Yeah, something like that,” he replies with a devilish grin. The man coughs again. The elevator bell dings at the nineteenth floor and more people step in, pushing Bishop and me farther to the back of the elevator near the man in the far-right corner. The door closes and Bishop and I continue to play our inquisitive game, but in a soft whisper.
“Really? Maybe one day you can show me how the anointing goes? I’m curious to know what type of blessing a man like you can give.” I see the coughing man in my peripheral damn near choke at my response. I want to laugh because this is fun.
“Yeah?” Bishop asks surprised and as if interested in my request.
“Yeah,” I solidify.
Damn. The sound of the fifteenth-floor elevator bell dings and ends my entertaining conversation with Bishop. Mmmm-mmmmm, there goes Adonis, such a fine specimen of man.
