Delilah
After I’d returned from a two-hour session in the editing room, the receptionist walked into my office carrying a tall glass vase full not of flowers but of water. The puzzled look on her face matched mine. Until I saw that the vase wasn’t actually empty. A single blue beta fish was swimming around, and the floor was lined with a layer of blue and yellow colored gravel. She handed me the small florist’s card, glanced at the other vase on my desk—the one full of sticks—and walked out, shaking her head.
I unsealed the card. I named him Brody. You’re welcome.
I smiled, remembering our conversation about me never having a pet before. For a man who’d told me women didn’t really want bullshit flowers and sweet gestures—what they really wanted was a good banging against the wall—I was pretty sure he was giving me both today.
Later that afternoon, I was viewing a replay of my interview with Brody on my laptop. The sound of his gritty voice and the confidence he exuded was a little like foreplay for our date tonight. I was anxious, excited and nervous all at once. Closing my eyes as he spoke, I leaned back in my chair and visualized him standing before me, that commanding voice telling me to undress.
Unbutton your shirt.
Take off that bra.
God, even imagining it stirred a feminine place in me.
Lift that skirt.
Higher, Delilah.
You know what I’m going to do to you…
A knock on my office door startled me, and I jumped out of my seat. Shit.
“Hey. Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you. I thought you saw me.”
“Michael. Hi. Guess I was lost in my work.” I had texted at the last minute to cancel our date the other night, and he’d been very understanding. I hadn’t exactly lied when I told him an interview was running a few hours later than planned and asked for a rain check. Last night, he’d texted me to cash in the rain check I’d promised—and not knowing how to respond, I just never responded.
“Just stopped in to say hello. See how you were doing.”
“I’m good. Busy. Sorry I didn’t text back yet. My schedule has just been so crazy lately.”
His eyes zoned in on the roses he sent displayed on the file cabinet behind me, then he took note of the vase full of sticks on the corner of the front of my desk. He looked justifiably puzzled. They added something to my otherwise drab office—perhaps a splash of crazy. Yet he didn’t question the oddity.
“Would you be up for grabbing a bite for dinner tonight?”
“I actually have plans for tonight. Sorry.”
“Work again?”
Michael was watching me, waiting for a response. It felt odd to tell him that I was going on a date. Probably because of my gnawing guilt that the date was with the guy I’d canceled on him the other night because of. So I lied. “Yes. I need to reshoot part of an interview I did.”
A look of relief passed over Michael’s face. “Man, being the boss around here doesn’t earn any perks, does it?”
“I guess not.” I tried to laugh it off.
“One night next week, then?”
I nodded, leaving things very noncommittal. Thankfully, my phone rang.
“Excuse me a minute.” I was relieved to get out of the conversation and answer my office line. “Delilah Maddox.”
Brody’s sexy voice growled through the phone. “Did you bring an overnight bag to work?”
I looked up at Michael; he was still standing in my doorway. “I did.”
“You actually don’t need anything in it. I’ll pick you up in an hour. You’ll get your date. Then I’m going to give you my own version of those sweet gestures you like so much.”
I cleared my throat. “Okay. That sounds good.”
“Is someone standing there?”
“Yes, that’s right.”
“Are you wearing a skirt?”
“Yes.”
“Take off your panties before I pick you up.”
“Umm . . . ”
“An hour, Delilah. No panties. I’m salivating at the thought of tasting you.”
The phone disconnected, and I was left sitting there like an idiot, my body buzzing and my mouth hanging open.
“Are you okay?” Michael looked concerned.
“Yes.” I blinked myself back to the moment. “Sorry about that.”
“I’ll let you get back to work. Call you next week?”
“That sounds great. Sure.”
Maybe by then, I’d grow a backbone.
***
In the ten minutes I stood in the bathroom stall, I’d taken my underwear off and put it back on three times. The outer door opened again, and two women whose voices I didn’t recognize walked in, chatting. This was ridiculous.