his face, apparently very unhappy about something. This was not what was causing the commotion however. It was the fact that he could be a double for Robert Downy Junior.
He was gorgeous!
The female hormones in the room tripled as most of her co-workers suddenly became aware of him and went into mating mode. Sally sighed and sat back down. There was no point in looking because he’d never even notice her. Not that she was unattractive. She’d been told by many people that she was, in fact, quite pretty. One memorable date had even pointed out to her that if she simply skipped dessert she could even attain the slim body that he just knew she dreamed about. The date had ended soon after that. There was no dessert offered.
Yes, she was a little plump, but far from over weight. She had curves, dammit. She liked not being skinny. She had a narrow waist, curvy hips and very nice breasts. Heads turned when she walked past, if only to admire her rear.
No, Sally thought to herself, he was just not the kind of man that would be interested in her. He was beautiful, standing there looking all powerful in his dark suit and white shirt. The red tie screamed confidence and power all the way across the room.
Unable to resist what may very well be her last look at him, she pushed her chair back again to peer over the partition at him. As she stood, the chair hooked on a bump in the carpet tile and her knees buckled sending her forward onto her desk. Coffee quickly coated the desk and flowed over her keyboard and mouse. Her favorite mug rolled onto the floor, breaking into many pieces, sending a sharp shard into the arch of her foot.
“Ouch!” The sharp pain startled her and as she looked down the little trickle of blood caught her eye. She quickly forgot about the coffee stain on the front of her skirt and the computer equipment she’d just destroyed and focused on the thin line of red that was sliding down her foot into her strappy shoe. Blood! She couldn’t stand it. Her head felt like it was spinning and the sudden dizzy spell sent her tipping backwards onto her chair.
As she landed on her backside on the chair, it dislodged from the little bump on the mat and rolled backwards into the passageway, straight into him .
Through a haze, she looked up at him, unable to speak for fear of being ill. Behind him, Sally could see Andrea glaring at her, gesturing wildly and she was still helpless to move. Her head felt woozy and she had a sharp pain in her foot. And she felt quite sick.
People were speaking, clamoring around her, wanting to see what the fuss was about and someone else was shooing them all back to their desk. Sally heard the man, as if from a mile away, asking her if she was okay and she shook her head to say no. She managed to lean forward enough to grab her waste paper bin and to her extreme embarrassment was sick.
The upside was that she no longer felt dizzy or faint. The downside was that she was sitting holding a bucket that smelled bad while the most beautiful man she’d ever seen knelt at her feet. She glanced up at him through her eyelashes and grimaced.
“Much better thanks,” she replied to his earlier question, taking a deep breath to fortify herself. He was examining her foot, to see how bad the injury was and turned to Andrea and demanded to know where the first aid kit was. When Andrea, who wasn’t exactly Boss Of The Year, stammered and looked around the room, unable to answer, the man got to his feet and turned to her.
He spoke so quietly that not even Sally could hear, but Andrea’s response was instant. Her spine stiffened and she walked quickly to find some paper towels. Several minutes later, Sally was still sitting in her chair with her foot propped on his bended knee feeling like Cinderella. He’d dabbed and examined the small wound for remaining glass and had smiled ruefully up at her when he’d recommended seeing a doctor about cleaning and possibly one small stitch.
“No. Thank you
E.L. Blaisdell, Nica Curt