I give my body a little stretch and hear a whistle off in the distance. Turning my head I see Evaleen Bechmann, Head of HR, striding toward my desk. Her long blonde ponytail swaying out to the sides of her modelesque frame, her deep blue eyes zeroing in on her intended target, me. Evaleen’s crisp, formless brown pant suit does nothing to disguise her lean but perky body. Every time I see her I wonder why she isn't on the cover of Vogue or walking down a catwalk in New York. Why HR?
I asked her once at happy hour a while back when I had one too many rum and cokes. She just smiled and looked over to Edgar Mimir, VP of Technology Infrastructure here at Mimir and brother to the founder, Jacob Mimir. The usual in control and wise Evaleen turns to mush in front of the man. Unfortunately for her, Edgar is a man-whore. Don't get me wrong, Edgar is a great guy and really sweet, I totally get what Evaleen sees in him. He is also crazy gorgeous. BUT, that man will do just about any woman who shows him the least bit of attention.
"Looking extra sexy today Drake!" Evaleen has yet to actually call me by my first name. When I first started she was very professional, addressing me as Ms. Drake, but once we got to know each other we have developed a very odd friendship. One of mutual respect, fear, love, and of course, cake. She prefers cheesecake, whereas I am open minded in my love of cake.
"It's just who I am Bechmann." I get up from my chair to illustrate my point by shaking my butt to an imaginary beat.
"When you got junk like this in the trunk and milkshakes that call all the men in the yard, then you need to let it shine!" I get more into the song playing in my head 'I Believe in a Thing Called Love' by The Darkness.
"Isn't it boys in the yard, not men?" Evaleen points out while shifting her weight so her firm little ass is half on and half off my desk.
I stop my dance and give her my stone cold expression. "I don't want boys Bechmann. Men, only men!"
I sit back in my seat slightly winded and pick up a pink sticky note, one of many, which Mr. Payne leaves on my desk so he doesn't have to speak to me. It reads: Late work day. Order us pizza for dinner. Large, hand tossed, with ham, green peppers, and onions. I pick up my pen and scratch out the toppings he listed, writing in pepperoni instead. I'm such a bitch to him.
"Speaking of men, have you found any on that site I told you about a few weeks ago?"
I smile and nod my head while putting the sticky note on my desk phone.
"Maybe! Alright, I can't keep it in; I found one guy that so far seems great. I was a little worried for a while because most of them came across as losers. One guy had his mom call me. Ugh! But when Hi-Ed-Junior emailed me, I liked what he had to say. He also didn't want a picture or phone number right away. I liked that. He just wanted to talk, well, message back and forth. Spend some time getting to know each other."
Evaleen leans across my desk and smirks at me. She is about to say something but is cut off with the opening of Mr. Payne's door. We both turn to see him standing in the doorway, his gaze jumping between us. I notice a little pink post it note in his hand and try hard not to sigh. He clears his throat before walking over, placing the note in his hand on the desk in front of me and glancing at my phone. Mr. Payne reaches over to pick up the pink note I edited, reads it, and grabs a pen to add more. When he is done he adheres it back to my phone before turning his eyes up to Evaleen’s irked gaze.
"Ms. Bechmann, don't you have some HR wizardry you need to be doing that doesn’t involve bothering my assistant?"
Most people cower in the presence of Mr. Payne. He is a tall, well-built man and has a strong presence. The kind of presence that screams, RUN! But, Evaleen is not most people. She isn't afraid of anyone. A man could hold a shotgun to her face and she would probably roll her eyes.
She surveys him without getting off my desk and answers his question, "No, Payne I don't. Don't you have some lackey you have to make cry?"
They both narrow their eyes at each other and I swear I hear rattlesnakes as tumbleweed rolls down the hall.
Mr. Payne looks back at me and waves his hand at the pink paper, then uses his two fingers to point at his eyes and then mine to let me know he's watching me. Once he walks back into his office and shuts the door I pick up the note on my phone: I wrote Ham, Green Peppers & Onions on the Pizza. Get it right!
Rolling my eyes I glance at the other post it he brought out: Drink your own coffee in the morning.
Damnit he’s on to me.
"His name is what exactly? It sounds weird."
"It's hi as in hello, then Ed, and then junior. It's probably Edward and he is named after his dad or something. I don't know. We have only been PMing on Gchat so I don't know his real name."
She is staring at me with a mouth wide open. After a few moments she regains her verbal function and twists her head to the side, crinkling her brow in confusion.
"He hasn't told you his real name yet?"
I shrug my shoulders. "No."
"At least tell me you have seen his picture."
I'm starting to wonder if I should have actually told her this to begin with. As I talk about it out loud it does sound kind of weird.
"Um...no. But he hasn't asked for my real name or picture either, so it's not like he's getting his load off on what I look like or anything." Wow, this is just sounding worse and worse.