Part 4: A Legend in the Office
On Tuesday, people kept casually dropping by my desk to chat. I finally figured out that some of the techies had passed along word that I'd been touring around a big, handsome man, and he'd had his hands all over me. People had spotted us kissing.
Everyone at the office was so excited for me that I couldn't break their hearts and tell them it was over, that it had been wonderful, but now it was done. I smiled and said, “We're just friends. He's getting out of a long-term relationship, so I'm taking it slow and giving him time and space.”
As I said the positive words and smiled, it had a healing effect on my heart and soul. I believed it. We were friends. Nothing terrible had happened, just a few omissions of the truth.
So he had his ex-wife staying at his house for some flimsy reason. She probably heard he was seeing someone new and realized what a terrible mistake she'd made. I couldn't blame the woman, not really. Trevor was a great catch.
I thought about that expression, about loving something, setting it free, and having it come back to you. If Trevor came back to me, it would mean something.
He didn't call me on Tuesday.
Every break I took, I whipped out my phone and re-read his sexy text messages from Monday, enjoying the pleasant memories.
I made some photocopies, just to spend time near the machine, to reminisce.
He didn't call Wednesday or Friday or any of the other days that end in y.
He didn't text, either.
On the weekend, I confessed everything to Nikki, because she was asking a lot of questions—just to me, because Trevor point-blank told her he wouldn't discuss his personal life with her.
She hugged me, apologized, and promised to either never set me up again, or at least to do a better job the next time.
The next week, seven days after I'd brought Trevor to my office and had sex with him in my cubicle and on the photocopier, my work friend Chad (the g*y one … I mean, one of the g*y ones) told me he'd treat me to lunch.
We went to the cafe up the street and sat inside, near the fireplace. It was October now, and sitting on the sidewalk in the summer sun was a distant memory.
Chad's a coffee addict like me, so we were both enjoying lattes before our grilled sandwiches and soup came.
I said, “What's up? You have a devilish smile.”
“Oh, honey, that's just my face. It always looks like this,” he said, his grin even more devilish.
“Do you have a boyfriend?”
He acted shy, with a hand over his face. “I called someone for a second date. And then we had a third.”
“I'm so happy for you!”
“Thanks,” he said, and then he spilled some more details. The guy had been a casual hook-up, from the gym, but they'd enjoyed each other's company beyond the sex, and things were progressing.
I said, “Soon you'll get a dog together.”
“Let's not rush,” Chad said, beaming. He turned serious, saying, “Now, what's up with you and your big hunky man? It sounded to me like you guys really enjoyed each other's company.”
“I don't know,” I said, trying to push him off with a white lie.
Chad grabbed my hand across the table. “Naomi. Really. The photocopier?”
Time stood still around me and the shock washed over me. “What are you talking about?” My heart was beating rapidly, pounding in my chest. Did people know? Were there security cameras? Was that why everyone had been staring at me?
Chad's grin turned devilish again. “Don't panic! Nobody else knows but me. Little old me, who was all alone in the dark office, working on some spreadsheets.”
“Oh, Chad. You were there? You saw … everything?”
“I was in my cubicle, and I only popped my head up a few times, so, no, I didn't see everything. Though I must confess I did take a good look at the man's ass when he was, how-you-say, refilling the photocopier toner.”
I crushed both of my hands into my face. “Oh, Chad. I'm horrified. Just horrified.”
“Don't sweat it! Do you know how many people will go their whole lives and not do anything that fun? You sounded like you were having a good time. Really good. I think it would be frowned upon, in general, by the company, but we do work in the theater. I think most people would understand. Love is sacred and it supersedes everything. Our bodies are designed to give and receive pleasure.”
“Thanks.” I rubbed my face to avoid eye contact.
The waiter arrived with our meals, hot and fragrant. I had pumpkin soup and a grilled cheese sandwich.
I confessed everything to Chad, telling him I'd broke it off with Trevor, because he'd lied to me, by omitting the detail about his ex-wife living with him.
Chad listened, nodding and sampling his soup.
Finally, he said, “Naomi, don't be stupid.”
His words stung, and I recoiled, hurt.
He saw my face and quickly added, “I mean, don't be like me when I'm stupid. I'm the stupid one, so I should know. You need to get over these little bumps, these hiccups.”
“Hiccups?”
“You need to call that big sexy man up and tell him you need your photocopier toner refilled.”
“You mean sext him? A text message asking for sex? Shouldn't I just call him and ask him how he is?”
“You said he doesn't like to talk about his feelings. So, how do you think he'll feel getting that text?”
“Stressed.”
“Okay, so why not take the middle line. You don't have to be so forward and tell him you want his big c**k inside you, reaming you, churning your buttercream—”
“Chad!” I blushed and fanned my face. I mean, I did want Trevor's big c**k inside me, reaming me, but I didn't want to talk about it in the middle of a cafe I had lunch at regularly.
“Send him something light and flirty. Something that says you think he's great.”
“Uh ...”
Chad reached for my phone, which was on the table, and raised an eyebrow at me. “May I?”
“Send him a text message from me?” I thought about it for a moment. It had been a week since I'd seen Trevor, and checking in wouldn't be inappropriate. “Sure, go for it. But no reaming talk. Not like that.”
Chad tapped away, smiling, then frowning, deliberating.
A few minutes later, I said, “What are you typing, War and Peace?”
He handed me back the phone. The message had already been sent to Trevor. I had thought Chad would compose the message for my approval, and I'd send it, but it was already gone.
But … I couldn't have done it better myself, really.
The text message simply read: