Page 138 of By A Thread
“Can I help you?” I asked him coldly. This guy was trespassing on my territory, and I had no problems letting him know it.
Ally shot me a “WTF is your problem, Crazy Pants?” look.
“Got a package here for Ally Morales,” he said.
The old “got a package” come-on. Jackass.
“That’s me,” she said perkily.
“Here you go.” With a stupid wink, the guy handed over a large box with a bold red bow on it. “Later,” he said, walking away backward like a cocky motherfucker. I wished I was behind him so I could shove him into a trashcan… or down a flight of stairs.
“What’s with the glare, Grumpy Grump Face?” Ally wanted to know.
“That guy was flirting with you,” I snapped.
The smartass coughed the word “friends” into her hand.
I glared at her.
“Buddies,” she coughed again.
“Do you have bronchitis?” I asked.
“No, but Idohave a mystery present,” she said, slipping a white envelope from under the ridiculous bow. “You didn’t do this, did you?”
I shook my head and immediately wished I had.
I shouldn’t care what was in the box or who sent it to her. But shouldn’ts didn’t seem to have a place in my reality. I wasn’t moving from this spot until I found out. Friends cared when other friends got gifts, right?
Fuck it. I was staying.
She opened the card, and I didn’t care for the way her lips curved. It was a female smile of pleasure and satisfaction. One that I knew a human being with a dick and designs on her attention had put there.
Wordlessly, she set the card aside and worked the attention-seeking bow off the box.
“Whatcha got there, Al?”
Ruth popped her red head around the corner. She stutter-stepped for a minute, noticing me, and then pasted a brave smile on her face and approached.
“I’m not sure,” Ally said, slipping her fingers under the lid.
“Hi, Dominic,” Ruth said.
An unprompted first name out of a staffer. It was about damn time. “Hi, Ruth. How was your weekend?”
She beamed at me. “It was great. How was yours?”
An explosion of fabric saved me from having a second go at the scotch hangover and lesbianism conversation.
It was pink and shiny, and to my eternal damnation, I noticed that it was the exact shade of Ally’s lips when they weren’t painted fuck-me red.
The women crooned and stroked the fabric as Ally pulled it free.
I snatched the card off her desk while she held the cocktail dress to her chest.
Ally,
Made this and thought of you.
