Victoria Dahl - Be Mine

“Right,” Jane said.

* * *

“MEETING IN THE conference room at five,” Jane said as Emily got ready to leave that night.

“What?”

“Memo just in from George’s office.” Jane handed it to her.

Emily groaned and crumpled the memo. “I’m tired. I want to go home.”

“Well, you can as soon as you’ve done the executive bit.”

“I wish I was a secretary.”

“No, you don’t.” Jane put her coat on. “You’re a terrible typist. You’d starve. See you tomorrow.”

Emily kicked off her shoes and sat in the gloom of her office. I’m so tired, she thought. And my panty hose are driving me nuts. I hate panty hose. They’re an invention of the devil. I’m never wearing them again. She took them off as a gesture of independence and threw them away. There was a run in one leg, anyway.

Instantly she felt better, cooler. She leaned back in her chair and spread her legs apart to cool them, reveling in the relief from the scratchy heat of the hose. It reminded her of other ways of feeling good. It reminded her that she was still so frustrated from the night before she wanted to kill.

It reminded her she still wanted Richard.

No, she didn’t. She was going to forget him and go home.

She looked at the clock. Five-fifteen. Damn.

She slipped her bare feet into her heels and went down the hall to the conference room.

“George?” It was dark in the room, and as the door swung behind her she bumped into him, tall and broad and muscular.

Not George.

Richard.

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