Page 10 of Don't Leave Me

“Not really. I’m dirt poor,” he laughed, his self-deprecation endearing. “But I guess I shouldn’t really be telling you that…might be hard for me to get your number that way,” he smiled, looking down at his hands and then back up at me.

I giggled and raised my eyebrows. “What would you want my number for?” I was continuing our flirtation.

He seemed to think about it for a moment. “I’d call you and ask you on a date. And if you were so generous, you would say yes and make my day,” he smiled, his face and tone earnest.

I smiled shyly and looked away for a moment, then back at him. “Well, you’ll never know if you never ask,” I shrugged teasingly.

Who am I and where did I come from? I’m a sudden pro at this flirting thing.

He laughed and nodded, his amusement towards me obvious.

“May I have your number, Hanadarling?” His voice was a bit deeper, probably knowing his accent would make me swoon.

My cheeks grew hot again. “Since you asked so nicely.”

Mine and Jack’s flirtation continued for the next hour that I was at the bar, having a few drinks to appear semi-normal and to keep up with my new kittenish self. When Billie left with John, I politely said goodbye to Jack and quickly walked home, using all the strength inside of me to resist my urge to invite Jack over.

4

Chapter 4

Friday morning approached and I couldn’t stop thinking about Michael; I was nearly bursting with excitement over what he could possibly have planned for me. At work, I distracted myself by actually working, typing away on my Macbook, writing reviews, chatting with co-workers, apologetically telling Evan I couldn’t hang out with him that weekend by lying and saying I had “family stuff” to do in Greenwich.

I didn’t see Michael until after lunch. I saw him walking down the hallway in my direction and watched him stride graciously, waiting for him to notice me, and I nearly passed out when he made eye contact with me and smiled at me mischievously for a whole two seconds before he passed me and walked into his office. I sighed, turned on by just the sight of him, and tried to continue to work.

It’s 6 PM, it’s 6 PM! Work is over! What should I do? Should I go knock on his door? Should I wait for him to come get me? Maybe he didn’t really mean what he said. I mean, we haven’t talked at all today…maybe he changed his mind. He didn’t even really specify when I would be with him this weekend–

“Hana,” he said, interrupting my nagging, worried thoughts.

I turned around in my chair and Michael stood with his arms crossed, smiling at me.

“Hi,” I smiled, starting to stand up, clutching onto my chair because just the sight of him made my knees weak.

Michael looked around before he spoke.

“Would you like to come to my place?” he asked quietly, leaning towards me a little.

I was thrown off –he’s asking me to come to his place rather than demand it.

“Sure,” I nodded, looking around as well.

It felt like we were making plans to commit murder the way we were being so sneaky and cautious.

Michael nodded and smiled, looking me up and down.

“Good. Let’s go,” he responded, pointing his head towards the elevators.

I turned and quickly packed up my work, grabbed my jacket and purse, and started to follow him to the elevators. Co-workers were leaving as we were, and we all sort of stood in silence in the elevators as we went made our way to the first floor. I stood beside Michael, trying very hard not to look at him or really at anyone; I was afraid that my eyes would scream, “I’M HAVING SEX WITH MICHAEL SOON!”

We all exited the elevators and I said goodbye to a couple of acquaintances, then quickly followed Michael down the busy street, figuring he wanted to get away from our work area before he would even speak to me. We stopped at a crosswalk and he looked around before discreetly taking my hand with his as he looked at me with a coy smile. I had no idea how to react - I was still shocked that this beautiful man was taking me to his home. As cars began to stop and the cross lights turned red, we started to walk again, heading into the Broad Street station. As we waited for the J train, the one I took every day to and from work, I curiously looked up at Michael.

“Where do you live?” I asked, our hands still together.

“East Village,” he answered as he looked down at me, suddenly looking not at all like my intimidating boss but like a normal (albeit ungodly attractive) man that I could see as an actual human being and not a sculpted, beautiful God.

“Where do you live? Wait – let me guess,” he smiled.

I bit my lip and smiled back, rolling my eyes a little bit.Oooh, are we going to be playful and flirtatious?

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