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I’d wager that William prefers to blend in, just like that fake-ass plant sitting next to him.
I watch as the man who has occupied my thoughts for the last several hours lowers his forehead onto his desk and breathes deeply. Or at least that’s what I assume he’s doing. I can’t quite tell. He could have just dropped dead. But then his head snaps up and he stands abruptly, his chair rolling into the wall.
He strides out of his office with intention.
Hmm, I wonder what he’s doing.
I switch to the hallway camera and then the sitting room, watching as he walks through each. Damn, maybe I need to place more cameras around his office so I can see where he’s going atalltimes.
I’m a nosy bitch. I don’t like not knowing these things.
A moment later, William appears on the sidewalk about twenty feet away from where I sit in my car. He closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and then adjusts his tie while striding across the street toward a small bakery.
Oh, why, hello there.
Are you a hungry bug? What kind of food do you eat, William? Brains? Small children? Rodents?
I push my way out of my car, shove my phone into the back pocket of my jeans, and jog across the busy street. A car honks at me and I smirk as I waggle my fingers at them.
Thank you so kindly for not killing me on this fine afternoon.
I wrench the bakery door open, and the smell of baked bread and cinnamon invades my senses. Waiting at the back of the line is William, fiddling with his phone.
“Why, hello there. Are you following me?” I say, saddling right up next to him, my breath whispering across the shell of his ear.
I take another long sniff and yep, he smells wonderful. So much so that my mouth begins to salivate.
He flicks his eyes to me and then faces forward. “No.”
I run a thumb over my bottom lip and his eyes peek over at me. I’m not sure if he’s intrigued or just socially awkward. Like I said, a puzzle.
He’s one I’m going to solve. There better not be any goddamn missing pieces. I’ll set myself on fire if there are.
“I thought you had a deadline, and yet here you are,” I say. He moves forward in line, and I just hover, inhaling him, and generally despising the fact that he thinks he has the right to smell this good.
“I was suddenly hungry.”
“Ah,” I say, leaning into him a little.
“Well, it just so happens that so am I. I saw this little bakery and thought, mmm, I could go for a snack,” I reply, and he fidgets next to me.
Maybe if I lean in more, I can snag his phone without him noticing and steal it away for a bit. I just have to figure out where he’s put it—his back pocket, his front, his suit jacket? Right down the front of his pants? I’ll need to let my hands wander to find it.
What a chore.
How ever will I manage this?
My mind ponders it for a bit as we move up in line.
“Since we’re just standing here, and small talk is done in this type of informal setting…what’s your middle name?” I ask, and he side-eyes me.
“Why?”
“I am just so, so very curious. Like a kitty cat.” The truth is, I can do a lot with a middle name, like find little secrets people want buried. If he gives me this, he might as well have given me his social security number and address. By the end of this conversation, I’ll have the rights to his firstborn.
We step up to the counter side by side. Our shoulders brush and I let my fingers slip behind him, grazing his ass.
It’s a nice ass too. Firm and round and bitable.
