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Chapter 20
Saffi
Isat in front of a blank computer screen most of the day, unable to write a damn thing. Ed had inquired about my progress on the Club Silk story, so of course I lied.
Aside from describing the physical setting, there wasn’t much to say. I’d gotten pretty much zero information from the folks I’d met. ’Course, I could always share some of my personal experiences, but I wasn’t writing for Penthouse, now was I?
Maybe I should be, though.
“Hey.”
My heart slammed against my chest and I shrieked. Christ, it was Tom. What did he want? “You scared the shit out of me.”
He wrinkled his nose. “Why the hell are you so jumpy?” He craned his neck to see what was on my computer monitor, but I switched windows.
“I was deep in thought.”
He helped himself to a corner of my desk, propping his ass right on the story I’d written about Little League.
“So,” he said, “Ed tells me you have something very special in the works.”
What. The. Hell.
My gaze wandered around my desk to make sure any revealing papers were out of sight.
“Really? Huh.” I smiled and shrugged.
“You don’t have anything up your sleeve?” He reached for a strand of my hair, but I smacked his hand away, rolling my chair until I was out of his reach.
“Nope. No idea. Don’t know why he’d say that to you.” I threw my hands up.
Disappointment ran across his face. “Oh. Okay then. I guess you’re just still doing your Little League and Garden Club bullshit.”
Dick.
“So it would seem.”
He started inching away. “Well. I gotta get back to work.” He turned to go.
“Tom?”
“Yeah?”
“Thanks for stopping by.” I gave him the fakest sweet smile I’d ever mustered.
“Sure thing.” He paused by the entrance to my cube. “Hey. Some of us are going for drinks after work. You’re invited.”
“Oh. Thanks. I’d love to go. Let me check and see if I can pull it off.”
“Okay. Later, then,” he said.
I turned back to my PC, motivated by Tom’s fake interest and explicit insult. The jerk seemed happy I might still be stuck working on the same old crap I always was assigned.
Truth was, I had no intention of getting drinks with Tom or anyone else in the office. Getting ready for a night out at the club was a lot of work. I had a mani-pedi to take care of, and it took forever to blow out my hair. Fortunately, I’d gone for an excruciating Brazilian wax a couple days ago, my first and probably my last, so I was good in that department.
The phone killed my daydream.
“Hey, girl,” I said when I saw it was Nelle.
“You will not believe this…” Her voice was breathy.
“Believe what? Tell me.”
“Remember I told you about that guy in my office? Around the same time you told me about the guy in your office you were crushing on?”
“Yeah, but I’m not into that guy any more—”
“Well,” she said, “he asked me out!”
“Oh my god, that’s awesome. I’m very happy for you, sweetie.”
She’d liked that guy for so long I thought they’d be in nursing homes before he took her frequent and obvious hints.
She let out a long, relieved breath. “We’re going out next week. I’m so happy. I have to figure out what to wear. Hey, what are you doing? Wanna get a drink after work?”
“Ohhhh. Can’t. Sorry.”
“Why? You got something going on?”
“Yeah, I gotta do some work.” It was only a partial lie. I was obsessed with my story and couldn’t think of anything else.
“All right. Well, that sucks. Call me tomorrow?” she asked.
“Of course. Talk to ya later.”
I swiped the phone closed. I had to stay focused. I’d created a big expectation with Ed, and coming up empty-handed would be worse than bad. Especially when he had his own healthy dose of curiosity about Club Silk. I needed to get the story done before he insisted on going there some night. With me.
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