Page 55 of Hot in the City
He sat up straighter, grinning like he’d won something. “Great.”
She stood and backed away from the table on shaky legs. It was official. She was flirting with the auditor, who she happened to have a crush on. The man she’d been sneakily spying on for months.
Oh, baby. Jean was going to have an absolute ball with this.
Spilling the tea
Megan flitted around her cubicle, searching desks, bookshelves, drawers and the weird squishy sofa in the corner with a towering pile of reports stacked on it.
She raised her hands to the ceiling. “It must be here somewhere. The reports from the external ad agency. I had them in a blue folder. Where could it be?”
“You mean this blue folder? Under your droopy plant?” Jean pointed at Megan’s adorable maidenhair fern on the wide window ledge.
Megan rushed over to the window next to Jean, who was calmly drinking tea from her Garfield mug. Picking up the plant and the file, Megan sighed. “Oh, no. It’s damp!”
Jean nodded at her. “So, tell me more about this sexy auditor. He’s probably been sent here to kill us, you know. He looks like a spy.” Jean sipped her tea. Deceptively calm, she was probably trying to look like she wasn’t out to cause trouble.
Megan tried to dry off the blue folder with a tissue from her desk drawer. Dab, dab, dab. “What are you talking about? Just because he’s sexy, it doesn’t mean he’s a spy.”
“So you admit you think he’s sexy.”
Megan groaned, leaning her butt on the window ledge. She glanced across at Jean who was busy waggling her eyebrows. “Of course I think so. I wouldn’t have been ogling him like a weirdo stalker otherwise.”
“Who’s a weirdo stalker?” Cruz’s annoying, sexy face popped up over the top of their cubicle.
Megan squealed.
Jean gasped and dropped her mug of tea, which didn’t smash, only rolled on the hideous beige rug. Jean bent to pick up her mug, then wandered off, who knew where. She nodded at Cruz on her way past.
Megan had been spattered. Luckily, the tea was almost cold, just the dregs of Jean’s cuppa. Megan brushed off the drips from her bare arms and dabbed uselessly with a couple more tissues where brown liquid had splashed on the skirt of her white dress. It was patchy brown now, of course.
She shook her head, making awkward eye contact with Cruz. “Wow, what a day.”
“I didn’t mean to scare you. Just checking in. Here,” Cruz stepped forward into her space, brandishing a white tea towel that Jean had just passed him.
Jean walked past him and threw another towel on the floor, stomped on it to soak up some liquid, then stood and glanced at the two of them in turn. She scuttled away sideways like a crab and disappeared. Again.
Cruz stepped further into Megan’s personal space. His scent wafted her way, a spicy combination of something like cinnamon and orange. Like a delicious cake.
He reached out towards her with the tea towel. “Here, let me help.”
He sort of hovered near her stomach then...went for it. He patted and dabbed at her midsection until the drops of tea were more a wishy-washy smudge.
Her breath was coming too fast, too shallow. Everywhere his hand made contact her skin overheated, even through the fabric of her dress. His hand pressed against her hip and sparks ignited, everywhere. A weird sensation of falling hit her, her head going woozy, until she literally had to sit.
Megan stepped back and plonked herself on the squishy sofa next to a stack of reports. She looked up at Cruz, hovering nearby with his hand still outstretched and holding the damp towel. “It’s fine. I’m fine. Leave it. The dress is probably ruined though.”
“Sorry. It’s er, a nice dress. You look great in it. I mean, you did.” Cruz cleared his throat, and then glanced around her cubicle area. “It seems I interrupted. You should get back to work. I’ll see you later.”
Then as suddenly as he had appeared, he was gone. Curiouser and curiouser. She’d bet anything that Cruz Ono was flustered by her. By touching her. She pressed her lips together to stop a laugh escaping.
Was it weird to be looking forward to their six o’clock meeting? If so, she was prouder than ever to be an absolute weirdo.
Six O’Clock
It was nearly six o’clock when Jean said something ridiculous. Of course, this wasn't anything new.
“Right, I’m off on my Tinder date.” She announced this as if Megan already knew what she was talking about, then rose from her desk and grabbed her handbag.
