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25
Enzo
Isee now why there’s a no-fraternization policy in the employee handbook. My concentration has been shit since I slept with Annie. Especially since she wore a tighter-than-normal skirt this morning. Even after Friday at the hotel, Saturday at my house, and all day Sunday, because we both blew off our commitments with the excuse of being sick.
You always hear those stupid cliché love stories about lazy Sunday mornings with breakfast in bed and reading the paper. Well, they’re not so stupid after all. We ate bagels, but we didn’t share a paper. She read Adweek and I read the Times. Each on our iPads.
Then at five o’clock, she said she was leaving. I didn’t fight her, and she left with a smile.
Like every morning, my eyes fall to her desk outside my office. She’s talking to Mr. Beardsman’s new assistant. She smiles and points at the paper between them.
My phone rings.
“Yes,” I answer, having seen Elise’s, from reception. name on the small screen.
“Hi Mr. Mancini. Both you and Annie were on a call, so I took a message. Our email is down, and Orange Glow is looking for the updated contract.”
“I sent it to Annie earlier.”
“I don’t believe they received anything from her yet. Maybe the email was already down, but they’d like it today.”
“Let me see if she already sent it, okay?” I hang up and ring Annie.
“Hello, Mr. Mancini.”
“This bullshit with Mr. Mancini.” I blow out a breath. She offers no excuse for not saying Enzo. “That contract for Orange Glow, did it go out?”
“No, I don’t have a contact for Orange Glow.” She looks through the door at me, shaking her head.
Sometimes I wonder why we even bother conversing over the phone. I’m sure I could get plenty of business done with her on my lap and my hand between her legs. I’m an excellent multi-tasker.
“It’s lost in cyberspace until email is back up then. It needs to be sent today.”
Last time our email went down, it was the entire afternoon. Not sure who we hire in that department, since their only advice when something goes wrong is to reboot.
“Okay, send it to my personal account. [emailprotected].”
I scribble it down. “Perfect.”
Going over to my own electromail account, I notice it’s been a long time since I checked it. I have a bunch of emails from the gym and a few restaurants.
I call Elise back. “I’m sending it to her personal email, and she’ll be sure to get it to them today.”
“Great. I’ll let them know. Thank you, Mr. Mancini.”
“Welcome.” I hang up and attach the contract to Annie before hitting Send.
Scrolling through my emails, I realize it’s the only private thing I can do at the office without the dipshits in IT knowing. Then another brilliant idea forms.
* * *
To: Annie Stewart ([emailprotected]electromail.com)
From: Lorenzo Mancini ([emailprotected])
Subject: Important Inquiry
Are you wearing panties?
