by Baron Sord
—: Chapter 10 :—
Not wanting to leave Stazia’s expensive car just anyplace, and not wanting it to get towed from someplace like the nearby Walmart, I drove it back to Arnold’s house and parked it in front of the 3-car garage.
Then I walked into the guest house, which I had left unlocked in my haste to save Stazia, and pulled the picture of her boobs out of my pocket and looked at it.
This was genuinely insane.
Those were her boobs staring at me willingly!
I couldn’t believe my luck.
Before I could get any harder, I folded the pic up and put it between the pages of an old Ms. Marvel TPB on my bookshelf. There was a good chance I would never show this picture to Arnold or anyone else, and I didn’t want him seeing it by accident if I left it lying around.
That done, I locked up the guest house and jogged back to my car where it was parked near Amante’s, then drove it back to Serra Mesa.
Walked into work at close to 3:00pm.
Sat down at my desk like it was business as usual.
Brrrrr-deep!
My phone.
Thinking it was Stazia, I reached for the handset.
Saw the number was Clifton’s extension.
I answered with a groan, “What?”
“Who the hell takes a three hour lunch?!” he hissed over the phone. “Sanjay has been asking what happened to you for the last hour!”
“What did you tell him?”
“I didn’t tell him anything because I have no idea what happened! What happened, Doug?! I need answers! So does Rene!”
I glanced over my shoulder and saw Rene leaning around his chair and glaring at me while holding his back protectively.
I said over the phone to Clifton, “Nothing happened.”
“The fuck it didn’t!” Clifton whispered. “Three hours, Doug! I could have sex ten times in three hours! You better have banged her at least five!”
“I’m hanging up now,” I groaned and dropped the handset in the cradle.
Sure enough, a moment later, Clifton loomed in the rearview mirror on my monitor.
Rene wheeled backward in his chair over to my cubicle before spinning around to face me with a wince.
“How’s your back?” I asked.
“How’s your dick?” he asked without missing a beat.
I whispered, “I didn’t have sex, you guys. So stop asking.”
“What did you do?” Clifton demanded. “Tell me, Doug! This is Stunning Stazia we’re talking about! Did she strip for you or what?”
Rene’s eyes gleamed, “I bet she stripped for him. Did she do a pole dance?”
“Not on mine,” I groaned. “Do you guys mind? There’s nothing to tell. We had lunch. End of story,” I lied with a sigh. “If there was more, I’d tell it.”
“You’re lying,” Clifton growled. “Tell me you at least kissed her.”
Suddenly thinking Stazia’s lipstick might still be on my lips, I almost reached up to wipe them, but that would be a dead giveaway. I said stridently, “It was just lunch.”
Clifton shook his head, “She gave you a fucking boob pic, Doug! What happened, God damn it?!”
Practically drooling, Rene pleaded, “Tell us!”
“What is with you guys?” I sighed.
“Fine,” Clifton said and folded his skinny arms across the chest of his button-down shirt. “Be that way. Be a bitch. Don’t tell your bros about what happened with the ho.”
“She’s not a ho,” I said.
“But she’s a stripper,” Rene said.
Should I tell them the facts? Was Stazia’s insistence that she had never stripped a piece of information I could tell these two without it getting back to her and ruining the good thing it appeared I still had going with her?
Who was I kidding?
Saying anything to anybody other than Stazia was not worth the risk. These two didn’t need to know any details about her personal life.
I folded my muscular arms across my muscular chest, smirked, and shook my head resolutely.
Clifton snarled, “You suck, man. You fucking suck. That’s the last time I ever tell you about any babes I bang.”
Rene said thoughtfully, “When was the last time you banged a babe, Cliff?”
“Last week,” he snorted.
I chuckled but said nothing.
Rene said, “Your sister doesn’t count.”
Clifton grimaced, “Why you have to talk about her like that, huh?”
“Because she’s a babe,” Rene replied.
She was. Both Rene and I thought Florence Yu was incredibly cute. Florence was no Stazia — not even close — but if I ever lost my looks, I’d beg to date someone as cute as Florence. Clifton had made us swear we would never ever ask her out. Not that we saw her often enough for it to be an issue. I think I’d met Florence twice in all the years I’d known Clifton, but she had left an impression on both Rene and me.
Clifton sighed, “No, I mean, I would never, not with my sister, I wouldn’t — never mind,” he groaned.
Rene taunted, “You wouldn’t, but I would.”
“Would you shut the fuck up, Rene?” Clifton barked.
“There he is!” Sanjay said as he stopped beside my cubicle. “Is Arnold okay?”
I said, “Yeah. He’s fine. Why?”
“His wisdom teeth?” Sanjay said suspiciously.
“Oh, yeah, right, I, uh…” When you started to live a life of lying, it was important you not drop the ball. Even I knew that. But it was easy to forget when fricking Stunning Stazia invited herself to your house the same day you officially met. I said to Sanjay, “Uh, Arnold was pretty loopy when I picked him up. He said some really ridiculous things about, uh, giant squirrels playing outside in the trees at the house and, uh, he kept trying to go out and catch them. I had to keep an eye on him so he didn’t get himself hurt until the meds wore off. Sorry. I should’ve called but it totally slipped my mind.” I would have to remember that line of nonsense in case Sanjay asked later. My mind raced for a moment as I considered whether there was even the slightest chance Arnold might cross paths with Sanjay in the next two weeks. Probably not. With any luck, Sanjay would forget my wacky story long before he bumped into Arnold.
Sanjay nodded, “Tell him to take it easy. Remember, no heavy lifting and plenty of rest.”
“Right,” I said.
Sanjay thumped the top of the low cubicle wall next to my desk and walked away.
“Squirrels?” Clifton whispered with judgement and added with a sneer, “Are you sure you didn’t see beavers?”
Rene snickered.
I sighed, “Do you guys mind? I have work to do.”
“As if,” Clifton scowled. “You know, you broke bro-code today.”
“And?” I prompted.
“And, I don’t know if I can trust you anymore.”
“Yeah,” Rene said, clearly not meaning it as much as Clifton.
Clifton said, “Let’s go, Rene.” He spun Rene around in his office chair and wheeled him back to his cubicle. When he walked out of Rene’s cube and passed the entrance to mine, he grumbled, “Traitor.”
I wasn’t worried.
These guys had been my friends for years.
I turned back to my monitor and pretended to work while closing my eyes and thinking about Stazia. Rather than imagining the picture of her boobs, I instead reveled in my memory of the physical sensation of her body pressing tightly against mine. I also pictured her smiling face, which had smiled at me countless times in the span of a mere three hours today.
I could only wonder, what would happen after work when I drove her back to my place to get her car?
One thing was for sure, my queen-sized bed was sitting there all by itself in the guest house, just waiting to be laid. On. Laid on. With me laying Stazia. I meant, laying next to Stazia.
I couldn’t wait!
—: Chapter 11 :—
Close to quitting time, my desk phone rang.
If I
wasn’t mistaken, it had rung more times today than in all the years I’d worked here.
I glanced at the number, expecting it to be Clifton.
It wasn’t. I didn’t recognize it.
Hoping it was Stazia, but not entirely sure it was her, I answered, “Doug Moore speaking.”
“Doug? Where’s my car?!” Stazia sounded desperately worried. “I can’t find it anywhere in the parking lot!”
Not what I was expecting. I said, “Are you outside?”
“Yes I’m outside! I have to get home and catch a plane!”
“Oh. Give me a second and I’ll bring your keys out and show you where your car is.” Saying it that way sounded only slightly misleading. Now that the moment to tell her where I’d put her car had finally arrived, admitting I had driven her Mustang back to my place sounded more than a little bit strange.
She said, “I have my spare keys with me. Can you just tell me where you left it and I’ll get my other keys after my trip?”
“Uhhh….” I couldn’t bring myself to admit the stalkery truth.
“Doug! I’m in a hurry! Where is it?!”
I lowered my voice to an embarrassed whisper, “At my house.”
“What?! Why’d you put it there?!” The way she said it, it sounded like the magic of the moment we’d shared back at my house had never happened.
I smeared my hand down my face and said, “I didn’t want it to get towed.”
“Towed? Why would it get towed?!”
“I just…” I heaved a sigh, knowing full well I was ruining our fragile connection with every word I said. “I can drive you to your car right now. Or the airport. Let me know which and I’ll make it happen.”
“Uch,” she sighed with irritation. “No, I have time. I think. Uch.” She was really annoyed. “But I really need my car. I left my driver’s license in it.”
“Don’t you carry it with you?”
“Doug! I need my car!”
“I’ll be right outside. Meet me at my car. It’s the white Ford Fusion.”
“No! I can’t let anyone see me getting a ride from you! Meet me at the Taco Bell around the corner. Do you know where that is?”
“Yeah. See you there in two minutes.”
“Okay, two minutes. Bye.”
I turned around at my desk, expecting to see Clifton or Rene staring at me. They weren’t in their cubes. Probably gone home for the day or in the break room or restroom.
I hurried outside to my rented Ford and drove toward Taco Bell. Halfway there, I saw Stazia hurrying up the sidewalk out of the industrial park where YouDoIt was located. She was strutting on her high heels and her long blonde hair was billowing out behind her. I couldn’t help but notice her ass shifting hypnotically from side to side in her tight skirt with every step. Yeah, she was ridiculously hot.
I slowed my Ford and pulled up along side her with the passenger window rolled down. “Hey. It’s me.”
She glanced at me and hissed, “I told you! Meet me at Taco Bell!”
“I thought you were in a hurry?”
“Go already!” She strutted double time, ignoring me.
Exasperated, I drove around the corner and parked at the Taco Bell. Left the passenger window rolled down and the door unlocked. Man, I had really screwed things up. Earlier she’d been handing herself to me on a golden platter. Now? I was starting to worry she’d never talk to me again.
When the passenger door suddenly opened, I jumped.
She dropped into the passenger seat and pleaded, “Go! Before someone sees me!”
I could see her cleavage out the corner of my eye. I was dying to look. But I knew better. Not now. Things between me and her were balancing on the wrong side of a knife edge. I started the car and turned in my seat to look out the rear window before backing up.
“What are you waiting for?” she barked.
I glanced down at her lap and said, “Seatbelt.” Huge mistake.
Stazia’s tight skirt had ridden up her thighs far enough I could see her panties.
That sent a jolt to my junk that nearly made me moan with desire. Fortunately, I didn’t.
Stazia’s eyes popped out of her face and she slammed her knees together. “Don’t you look!” She slapped my shoulder hard. “Get us out of here already!”
I gassed the Ford and braked suddenly because some guy decided now was the perfect time to walk directly behind my car.
“Nnh,” Stazia grunted in frustration, looking out the back window at the man. “Would you move?!” she mumbled for his benefit.
He didn’t hear her, but eventually he walked out of the way.
Finally, I backed out of the space and drove out of the parking lot. Joined the long line of cars waiting at the metering light to get on the 15 south. Got in the carpool lane, which was only slightly shorter but moving faster.
Stazia didn’t say a word while we waited. Her thoughts were a jumble of random fragments pertaining to work. None had anything to do with me. She tapped her French manicured nails nervously on the center console and shook her head frequently in frustration.
Eventually, we made it onto the freeway.
“I’m really sorry,” I said when we were up to speed. “I was just trying to help.” I felt like a buffoon for how I’d handled things.
She heaved a sigh. “It’s not you, it’s me.”
Wasn’t that a classic breakup line? The way she said it certainly sounded like it. Easy come, easy go. That was an understatement. How had I screwed this up so badly?
Stazia suddenly covered my hand where it rested on the gearshift with hers. “I got fired from my last job because I slept with my boss.”
“Oh. But I’m not your boss.”
“So? We work together.”
Before I could tell her we merely worked at the same company and never crossed paths at the office, she sighed and said, “Anyway, you would not believe the drama that caused. What a disaster.”
I said sympathetically, “I can imagine.”
She was still holding my hand.
I stared at it.
She said, “Doug, you’re… you’re incredible. I mean it. But I swore to myself I would never ever hook up with a coworker after that. I can’t afford to get fired again.”
“Oh.”
“You can’t tell anybody about what happened today. Ever. Promise?”
“Yeah, I promise,” I sighed with immense disappointment.
“Okay, good.” At that point, she removed her hand from mine and stared out the front windshield, her thoughts boiling incoherently about work matters.
Did it matter I had told Clifton and Rene about what happened with Stazia? Not really. Going to lunch with a coworker wasn’t a fireable offense. I’d explain the situation to Clifton and Rene later. I knew they’d keep their mouths shut out of respect for me. I could already imagine them commiserating with me over this and suggesting we all go to a strip joint and get drunk so I could forget about Stazia. I would decline, but I’d be grateful for the offer.
The ride home was beyond painful.
Stazia and I didn’t say a word.
The first beautiful woman I meet where everything is going right and like that, everything suddenly goes wrong. My disappointment was indescribable.
Traffic on the 15 and the 8 was heinous the entire way. I should’ve taken a different route. Things lightened up slightly when we got to the 163. When we finally got off the freeway in Hillcrest, I heaved a sigh of relief. Almost home.
I couldn’t wait to get this over with.
It took another twenty painful minutes of driving through stoplights to get home. When I pulled up outside the gates, I hit the remote and waited for them to open. Drove up the long drive to the garage.
“Thank God,” Stazia said when she saw her Mustang GT.
I pulled up alongside it, stopped my rented Ford, and jumped out to get Stazia’s door.
She was already standing outside and closing it when I came around. She said, “Do
you have my key?”
“Yeah.” I pulled it out of my pocket and handed it to her.
“Thanks. I should go.” She hit the alarm button and the lights flashed.
At that moment, Arnold’s Prius drove up the narrow drive.
Stazia watched closely.
I said, “My roommate. You’ll have to wait until he parks. The drive is too narrow for two cars.”
“I see that,” Stazia said flatly.
After parking, Arnold climbed out of his Prius wearing a SPAWAR polo shirt and Dockers. He shot me a smiling, knowing look and thought, Look at those knockers! Yet another knockout for Doug the stud. I’m starting to loose count. He said to me pointedly, “Who’s your friend, Dooooouug?”
Not wanting to blow her cover, at least not in front of her (I’d tell Arnold everything later because he knew how to keep his mouth shut), I said, “She, uh, I met her at lunch.”
“Lunch, huh?” Arnold arched an eyebrow at Stazia. “You met Doug at lunch?” Grinning, he thought, Smells like a cow-pie lie to me.
She huffed, “We work together. Don’t tell anyone.”
“You work with Doug?” Arnold snorted. “I don’t remember him mentioning you.”
“We just met,” she sighed. “I really need to go. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Not at all,” Arnold said. He swung an arm to point dramatically down the driveway. “The road is yours, m’lady. Your carriage awaits.” He swept his arm back around to motion at her Mustang.
“Thanks,” she said and walked to the driver door.
Arnold scoffed, “Aren’t you going to get the door for her, Doug? Be a gentleman already.”
I sighed and went to get it for her.
She waited patiently for me to open it, but she dropped into the seat without looking at me and slammed the door in my face.
This time, I didn’t enjoy the slamming because I knew this was her final goodbye, and she hadn’t even said goodbye. The slamming was more of a slap in the face. No, it was less than that. She was ignoring me like she wanted me to disappear.
She started the Mustang with a roar, then made quick work of the 3-point turn it took to turn a car around in front of the garage. Did it with total confidence. She got within inches of my car and Arnold’s without so much as a scratch before rolling down the drive. She sure knew the corners of her car.
