by Ali Parker
Becca winked at me. "These things have a way of working themselves out," she said. "So come on, say you'll do it."
"I don't know..." I trailed off as she started to sing that maddening song again. I glanced at the clock, realizing I'd have to get her out of here if I was going to get anything done this afternoon.
"Look, if I agree to do this, will you please shut up and let me get back to these damn spreadsheets?"
"Of course," Becca beamed.
"Fine," I growled, turning back to my computer. "Now get the heck out of here and let me work."
Chapter 3
Connor
I'd just put the finishing touches on the report and sent it off to management when I glanced at the time. Five o'clock had come and gone already. I stood, stretching my limbs, then shut down my computer and grabbed my stuff. It was Friday, and I was looking forward to a work-free weekend.
As I headed towards the exit, I heard the heavy clack-clack-clack of a frustrated typist. What poor soul was doomed to remain after hours on a Friday? Glancing in the direction of the sound, I paused when I realized the object of my fantasy was still at her desk.
As always, I considered approaching her, striking up some inane conversation, hoping to find a way to make her smile or laugh. Although I'd talked to her several times since starting here, our conversations were always directly related to work. I'd never had any problems before approaching women, but Madlyn was in a class all by herself.
John had been teasing me mercilessly about my awkwardness when it came to her. My tongue became tied, my motions jerky. I was terrified of making a fool of myself in front of her and ruining my chance, which meant I generally avoided small talk and chitchat, afraid that my usual easy charm would devolve into senseless gibberish and that both feet would land firmly in my mouth.
Still, it was said that fortune favors the bold, and that Friday I decided to dig deep and find the bravery that had alluded me these last few months. We were alone, the office quiet. I rehearsed my line a few times in my head until I felt confident that I could deliver it without coming off like an idiot. At least, I hoped I could.
I took a deep breath, then charged forward toward her desk. "You know," I said, and the typing paused. I had her attention. "It sounds like you have a case of spreadsheet-itis."
"Oh yeah?" she said, looking back over her shoulder, hitting me with those gorgeous eyes.
I nodded. "Luckily, there is a cure for it."
"And what's that?"
I grinned. "A little thing called Friday."
Madlyn smiled, swiveling around in her chair. "Is that your prescription, doctor?"
"Absolutely. Take two weekend days, and finish this up on Monday."
The sound of her laughter hit my gut like a punch. She made me feel warm all over.
She turned back to her computer and shut it down, then stood up, gathering her things. "Thanks for dragging me away from work."
"My pleasure," I replied, and we headed towards the big glass doors that led out of the office. I was racking my brain for something to say to fill the silence between us. "Got big plans this weekend?"
She laughed. "Same thing as every weekend. Spending time with my son and trying to get everything done I couldn't finish during the rest of the week. That usually means doing a mountain of laundry, interspersed with running errands and wondering why the weekend always disappears so quickly."
I nodded. "Saturday and Sunday go by in the blink of an eye. But Monday seems to last a lifetime."
The parking lot was mostly deserted. I realized our time together was quickly dwindling. "Well, it sounds like you could use a break from the grind. Let me take you out to dinner in between loads of laundry."
Madlyn smiled, and it was like a burst of sunlight, but the clouds soon rolled in and her eyes turned sad. "I'm sorry, Connor. Right now I'm focused on my son. He's only six. Being his mother is another full-time job. I don't have time to date."
I nodded my head once in understanding. She put her hand on my arm. "You're a great guy, and I appreciate the offer, I just can't." The phone in her hand buzzed once and she pulled it up. "Shoot, I'm late to pick up my son from daycare. I've got to run."
"Sure," I said. "Have a great weekend."
"You too."
She jogged in the direction of her car, and I felt a sinking feeling in my chest. Then she glanced back over her shoulder. "Hey, Connor," she called. "Thanks for reminding me that Friday is my second favorite F-word."
I smiled. "What you're favorite?"
Her face took on a cheeky grin and my heart skipped a beat. Then she answered me. "French fries."
I burst out laughing, and she waved, jumping into her car and speeding away.
On the way home tonight, I replayed our conversation. Sure, I was disappointed that she'd turned me down, but at least I'd broken the social ice between us. Perhaps it would lead to further conversations that were not work-related.
Her sense of humor was unexpectedly sassy, especially that last line. I struggled not to think about the word she'd clearly been implying before her punch line. I had to think about baseball statistics to will my erection away as I drove towards my condo.
I headed into my neighborhood, slowing down as I passed a busy playground. Glancing at the children there, I thought about how tough it must be to be a working mother, and a single working mother at that. Madlyn clearly wasn't lying about being extremely busy.
I wondered, then, what it would be like to have a family of my own. It wasn't the first time I'd had such thoughts. Folks constantly reminded me how young I was, but I knew 25 wasn't too young to start a family.
Although my peers might still be obsessed with video games or contemplating graduate school while living in the same rooms in their parents' houses that they'd been in since high school, I was a different breed. I'd finished college and sped through an MBA program. After an internship in another investment company, I'd landed my spot at Lewis's prestigious firm. There were plenty of opportunities for advancement here, and I had the drive and talent to go far.
Professionally, things were going like gangbusters. The only thing that was lacking was my personal life. Working so hard had left little time for relationships. I'd had a few girlfriends in college, but nothing very serious. My ambition had come first.
But now, having started down the path of achieving my career goals, I realized I missed being close to someone. Having someone to hold at night, someone to share things with--meals, walks, kisses.
I'd never been as attracted to any woman as I was to Madlyn Jones. There was something about her, something I couldn't shake. Of course she was beautiful. She was shapely, her delicate features and glowing skin enough to drive any man crazy. But it was her eyes that haunted me.
I wanted her. Bad.
And it wasn't just a sexual attraction. I wanted to spend time with her, find out what she did for fun, how many different laughs she had. To find out how she liked her eggs, and whether she could dance or carry a tune.
I also wanted to find out how her skin tasted, and if her lips were as soft as they looked. I groaned, forcing myself to stop thinking about waking up next to her in the morning, feeling her warm breath on my cheek when I enfolded her in my arms.
Goddammit, Connor, I told myself. Calm down. She turned you down, remember?
She had, but for some reason, it wasn't as demoralizing as I'd feared. Instead of quashing my spark of hope, that spark had grown, and I wondered if maybe there wasn't an opportunity there for something more than an office friendship.
I parked and headed towards my condo, an unexpected spring in my step. Letting myself in, I entered the kitchen and began pulling out ingredients for my evening meal. I felt my phone buzz against my thigh and I pulled it out of my pocket.
A new notification on my social media profile had appeared. I pulled it up. I wasn't that surprised to see it was from Frieda. She'd sent me a message, a meme featuring an inspirational quote about seizing life
's beauty at any opportunity, with a faceless blond woman in a field of wildflowers bending over to sniff one.
Frieda Ambrose was another co-worker of mine, one who had sent me similar quotes and random emojis ever since I'd added her to my network shortly after joining the firm. I'd thought it would be harmless enough. Frieda had seemed nice. She was at least a decade older than me, but pretty in a brittle sort of way.
She was always fashionably and expensively dressed, and never appeared without her signature bright coral lipstick. Frieda had been one of the first coworkers, along with John, who had enthusiastically welcomed me to the office. It was only after a couple weeks that I realized she wasn't quite everyone's favorite colleague.
And then the quotes had started. And the leading conversations in the break room. The invitation to gallery shows and cocktail outings. I realized pretty quickly that the social media messages were her way of low-key flirting, and the invitations were dates in disguise.
Frieda was nice, at least she always was to me, and I didn't want to upset our balance in the office. But I wasn't in the least bit interested in her that way. I had my office crush already, and even if Madlyn hadn't been the only woman I wanted, I still wouldn't have picked up what Frieda was laying down. I didn't feel that way about her, and that wasn't likely to change.
I stared at the screen for a moment, then sent back a thumbs up. It was the most neutral response I could think of. The online equivalent of a 'let's just be friends, ' or at least I interpreted it that way.
A smiley face popped up almost immediately, but I let it go without response. Setting down the phone, I returned to my dinner preparations, deciding to let the Frieda situation sort itself out another time.
Chapter 4
Madlyn
Los Angeles traffic was the single biggest bane of my existence. Although I was fortunate enough to live relatively close to the office, Bennie's daycare was a few exits down the freeway. What took less than ten minutes normally more often than not took close to an hour during peak times. Which meant paying for two extra hours of daycare a day, two hours I spent sitting in traffic and wondering for the umpteenth time if L.A. was really the best place for our family.
There were only two of us, but between us was all the love in the world. My son was the greatest gift I'd ever received. The second greatest might have been when my cheating ex-husband didn't contest my request for sole custody. I'd realized shortly after Bennie's birth that my ex wasn't interested in having kids. He'd been all smiles during the pregnancy, but when confronted with the reality of late night diaper changes, he'd quickly checked out.
I could admit now that we'd gotten married too quickly without really considering if we wanted the same things out of life. I refused to have regrets now, however. Bennie and I would blaze our own path into the future, together.
I pulled up to the daycare and sighed. Although Bennie thrived at the facility, and the caregivers were wonderful folks, the administrator had no love for me. I couldn't blame her, as I always ended up running late. If Connor hadn't reminded me that the workday was over, I might still be at my desk, plugging away. It was a more common occurrence lately, as business has picked up significantly recently.
I smiled as I walked towards the entrance, remembering Connor's lame joke. Mine had been funnier, if a bit naughtier than his. When I looked at Connor, I couldn't help but think of a certain word, and it wasn't French fries.
Connor was sexier than hell. He had this habit of wiping his face on his shirt during office softball games. He'd lift the bottom hem to his face, exposing abs that glistened with sweat in the hot California sun. I wasn't the only woman fanning herself in the stands during the games.
But beyond how hot he was (soooooo friggin' hot), Connor was also kind. He'd gone out of his way to make friends at the office. Some of the older guys had eyed him sideways, seeing him as a newer, better model come to replace them, but he'd treated everyone with respect and had quickly won them over.
He was the guy who helped Doris schlep her baked goods to the break room when the office grandmother decided to test her concoctions out on her coworkers. Bless her heart. Doris was a wonderful woman, but she wasn't exactly a contestant for America's Next Top Baker. And Connor always ate her experiments with a friendly grin on his face. I didn't know how he managed it, but every time that he did, my crush got a little stronger.
I had to mentally kick myself for the umpteenth time. Connor is only 25 years old, and I'm carrying more baggage than an oversized luggage cart.
Still, it was sweet of him to ask me out to dinner. I wished I could accept. Unfortunately, I already had a dinner date. When I walked into the daycare, Bennie sped up to me, throwing himself into my arms. I caught him and pulled him close. I would always catch him.
"Mommy I learned a new word today!"
I laughed, kissing his pudgy cheek. "Oh yeah? What's the word, hummingbird?"
"Testicles!"
My mouth dropped open, and I sputtered, fighting off laughter. Bennie's teacher sprinted forward, her face strained. "Tentacles. Remember, Bennie? They're called tentacles?" She was holding out a stuffed octopus.
"That's what I said!"
I laughed, and his teacher cracked a smile, shaking her head. "It's okay," I said, trying to relieve her embarrassment. "Our property manager is named Bobby. Bennie calls him Boobie. It cracks the old man up."
We shared a laugh, then I turned my attention back to my little boy. "Ready to go home, kiddo?"
"Yeah!"
I waved goodbye to the teacher and was just pushing the door open when a voice froze me in my tracks. "Ms. Jones, I have something for you."
It was Miss Janet, the administrator. Her stern expression was complemented by her tight gray bun and severe turtleneck and vest combination. She held an envelope in my direction.
I took it, realizing it was my monthly bill. When I'd first started bringing Bennie to the daycare, they'd mailed me my bill. Now Miss Janet made a point of handing it to me herself, her eyes telegraphing her motivation. If I pass this to you yourself, you'll make a better effort to pay me on time.
I held back a sigh and instead gave her what I hoped passed for a graceful smile. Then I pushed out the door, carrying Bennie to the car and getting him strapped into his car seat. Climbing into the driver's seat, I moved to shove the envelope into my purse, but then forced myself to stop and open the envelope.
I'd guessed correctly. It was my bill for the month. And I'd apparently racked up several late pickup charges. Even though I paid for extra hours, the combination of traffic and working late meant I didn't always make it by six, no matter how hard I tried.
The fees added up to almost $200, meaning I was holding a much higher bill than I'd expected. Dammit.
Bennie's game system was even farther out of reach than ever. I threw the bill to the side, then fastened my seatbelt, letting out a long breath. Although I figured I had a holiday bonus coming, I'd been counting on that money to take Bennie back east to his grandparents' house to surprise them for their 35th wedding anniversary.
My ex's parents adored their only grandson, and Bennie loved them back just as intensely. They visited the West Coast every year for Bennie's birthday in the spring, spending a couple days spoiling the boy silly. This year I wanted to repay their kindness and visit them in New York.
I told myself I could make up the expense, somehow. I blinked a few times, suddenly realizing how tired I was. It was already getting late and I needed to stop by the grocery store to get a few things for dinner. Finding time to shop was difficult, and the idea of hauling a distracted and hungry six-year-old through the crowded supermarket tonight was less than appealing.
"Fresh fries! Fresh fries! Mom!"
I glanced back at Bennie in the rearview mirror. He was pointing at the window, or rather, the restaurant on the other side of it. It was his favorite fast food place, and like his mom, fries were one of his favorite things.
"Honey, I don't th
ink--"
"But Mom! I'm hungry. My belly said fries!"
I shook my head, forcing back a laugh. His belly said a lot of things. This morning it had been scrambled eggs. Figuring it was easier than fighting him over it, I pulled into the drive thru. At least it would spare us a trip to the supermarket, and it would save time on dinner. I tried to ignore the motherly guilt that threatened to overwhelm me for letting my child wallow in saturated fat, but it wasn't like I made a habit of it.
A home-cooked meal was better, but there was something to be said for convenience as well. Before we could leave the parking lot, Bennie clamored for the toy in his kid's meal. I gave it to him, and it kept him amused until we pulled into our garage.
After dinner, I went through the mail while Bennie played with his fire truck collection. The sirens had long ago stopped giving me a headache, so I drowned them out as I tried to solidify a budget that would allow me to pay my outstanding bills while still affording to give Bennie the Christmas I felt he deserved.
I was an accountant, but not a magician, and I began to realize it would take more powers than I was blessed with to make the books balance this year. Finally giving up, I gave Bennie his bath and then we had story time. It was just after nine o'clock and I puttered around for a few minutes, trying to get up the gumption to start a load of laundry. Finally I gave up, deciding to allow myself the luxury of a bath.
It had been a long week, and the warm water felt good as I sank beneath it. I leaned back and closed my eyes, willing myself to relax. The image of Connor appeared in my mind unprompted. He certainly was cute. I liked the way his eyes sparkled when he found something humorous. I wondered how a hypothetical dinner date would go between us.
The bath was so relaxing, I could feel myself slipping into sleep, but I didn't bother to stop myself. I floated in a haze for a moment, and then the dream took hold.
It wasn't a romantic dinner I was fantasizing about. I found myself on a bed, nude, looking up into a pair of warm green eyes.
