Page 16 of The Boardroom: Jonathan
Samantha nodded. “Very well.”
“What toppings do you like?”
“Anything.”
“You sure?”
“Yup,” Samantha said. “As long as it’s not anything weird like anchovies or something, I should be good.”
I stumbled out of the conference room and made my way over to Sabryna’s desk.
“Hey,” I said. “Can you order me an extra-large Hawaiian pizza?”
Sabryna stared at me. “Sure. You alright?”
I scoffed. “Why would I not be alright?”
“You look like you’ve been under police interrogation for five hours.”
“No, I don’t.”
“Yeah, you do.” Sabryna shook her head. “When you’re stressed you start running your hands through your hair, and it gets all poofy like that, see?”
I peeked in the mirror. “We all have bad hair days.”
Sabryna smiled. “That Samantha Doyle is driving you insane, and it barely even sounds like you’re talking in there.”
I saw myself blush in the mirror and quickly turned around. “Just get the pizza, okay?”
“Okay…”
I quickly walked back to the conference room, where Samantha was still working diligently. “Pizza order is in,” I said, wishing she would at least look up and acknowledge me for a second. “We still have another five hours of this crap to finish, so we may as well get some fuel in us, right?”
“I suppose,” Samantha said. “Email me the last pie chart you did.”
I sent it and squirmed in my chair uncomfortably. Five hours. That was a long time. Three movies. A football game and a half. A school day, not counting lunch. And those things all sounded a hell of a lot easier than whatever this was.
Samantha looked hot today, as much as I hated to admit it. She wore a tight black pencil skirt with matching black pantyhose, set off with a slightly unbuttoned white blouse and dark beige heels. Her dark hair was gathered behind her head with a topaz hair clip that matched her earrings. I was surprised that I noticed that her lipstick was slightly different today as well. It was a slightly darker shade…her usual dark pink was now bordering on seductress red.
God, maybe I was more attracted to her than I thought.
I spent the next twenty minutes training my eyes to look only at my screen, and not towards Samantha. The strange thing was, even when my eyes weren’t looking at her, somehow it still felt like I was, and worst of all, that she could sense it. I looked fiercely at the screen until the spreadsheets of numbers blurred before my eyes.
I jumped at a knock at the door.
“Pizza,” Sabryna said unexcitedly, dropping the box in the middle of the table.
“That was fast,” I noted.
“Not really,” Sabryna said. “Twenty minutes seems kind of like a slow delivery speed for being smack in the middle of the city.”
I shrugged and opened the box, picking up a slice of pizza and depositing it on a paper plate.
Samantha’s eyes narrowed. “That pizza isn’tallHawaiian, is it?”
I froze and looked at her skeptically. “…Yeah?”
“God,Johnathan, you likeHawaiianpizza? Out of all the pizzas you could have ordered, out of all the vegetable and meat combinations the world has to offer, you decide the best course of action is to put ham and pineapple together on apizza?”
