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Karen sighed. “Fix your make-up, you look like a whore on a walk of shame,” she said. “Then get back to your desk. I told him that I sent you out on a photocopying errand, so find some memo and make enough copies to validate the lie.”
Karen opened the conference door, stepped out, then stopped and turned back to me. “And for fuck’s sake, stop crying.”
She disappeared, and I quickly wiped at my face. I took a few deep breaths, adjusted my clothes, and raced out towards the copying room.
KarpTech was a bustling beehive of employees, and I tried to avoid eye contact as much as possible. I knew quite a few of the people who worked here and stopping for some friendly chit-chat would only make my situation worse. Still, I couldn’t help but feel a lot lighter than when I had first signed in this morning.
I’m not pregnant. That’s all that really matters. For now, I’m going to be okay.
The copy room was on the other side of the floor, tucked in between the break room and the ‘deck’, a row of cubicles devoted to the constant turn-over of interns and newly hires. The rule was, if you could survive three months on the ‘deck’, then you could withstand the stress and hard work that came with a full-time position at KarpTech. I avoided the deck like a plague, mainly because I couldn’t stand to see the pale faces and bloodshot eyes of newly hires who were in over their heads. But also, Kyle Hannigan ran the deck, and for every woman in the company, yours truly included, he was a starting player for the majority of our wet fantasies.
Of course, none of us actually did anything about it, although the rumor was, Karen enjoyed a little Kyle every now and then after hours. I never asked her to confirm it, and she never brought it up. But I couldn’t ignore the sexual tension when the two of them were in a room together, as if they were mentally undressing each other, yearning for everyone to sign out and go home so they could go at it like bunnies.
You just had a pregnancy scare. The last thing you should be thinking about right now is sex.
I shook my head in frustration, pushed into the copy room, and grabbed the first memo lying discarded on the table by the machines. I scanned the contents quickly, making sure that it could pass for something Karen would want photocopied, and went about solidifying my alibi.
“Mission impossible?”
I almost jumped at the sound of Kyle Hannigan’s voice behind me and turned around to find him smiling at me from the doorway. I immediately felt self-conscious, wondering why I hadn’t gone to the bathroom first to recheck my make-up.
“Mr. Hannigan, hello,” I said, attempting to flash a smile that would at least partially hide my discomfort.
“It’s Kyle,” he said, making his way to the pigeon holes on the opposite wall where copied material was stacked by interns, awaiting to be picked up by managers or their secretaries. “I think we’ve been through this before, Andrea. I hate being called mister.”
“Sorry, Mr. Hannigan,” I replied, cringing when I heard the words escape my mouth.
Kyle smiled and shook his head at me. “And the apologies, too,” he said. “Stop it.”
I nodded.
“So, Karen’s got you making copies again, huh?”
“Mr. Karp’s a busy man,” I smiled. “He keeps me busy.”
“Does he?” Kyle asked, winking. “Or is it Karen who has you running around in circles.”
“Whatever she needs,” I replied.
Kyle looked at me for a second, then nodded his approval. “Remind me that If I ever decide to get a secretary, I steal you from Jeremy.”
I flashed him a polite smile, then turned back to the machine before the flush in my cheeks gave me away. I was still shaken up from the pregnancy scare, and it was strange how just talking to Kyle made me almost forget all about it.
“Well, always great to see you, Andrea,” Kyle said as he walked out. “Don’t be a stranger.”
“I won’t,” I said, briefly looking at him as he walked out.
I quickly took him in with all his splendor. The muscles that bulged under his shirt, the blonde hair that was combed to perfection, the soft stubble of his beard that outlined his strong jaw and somehow made his blue eyes sparkle. I could almost see myself pulling him back into the copy room, locking the door, and tearing his clothes off while those strong arms wrapped around me.
I turned back to the task at hand, letting my mind wander a bit and saving a mental image of Kyle in my head. In about four hours I’d be driving back home to a house that felt like a prison and a volatile husband whose idea of touching me involved his fists.
Hey, at least it was negative, right?
I cursed the little voice in my head and finished the rest of the copying without any further interruptions.
***
“Go home.”
