Shoot, her voicemail. “Hey, Morg, sorry bout last night. Crazy shit. But I do have something quite interesting to report!” Not only do my cheeks heat at the thought of Dorian, but my heart instantly beats into overtime. “Heading to work now. Call me later?”
I grab my purse and my favorite brown leather jacket just in case it’s cold after I get off. Before stepping outside, I check to make sure there’s no one out there waiting for me. It’s a beautiful day, the warm sunlight kissing my cheeks with Vitamin D. I smile up at the sky and my trepidation instantly vanishes. One of the perks of Colorado’s high altitude is the sun always feels closer and brighter. There’s a chill in the air but I’m comfortable in my light sweater. I pop in my favorite John Mayer cd and blast it all the way to Chapel Hills mall. It’s going to be a good day, I can feel it. I’ve at least earned it.
No matter how hard I try, I just can’t get motivated at work. I want to be out enjoying this beautiful Saturday just like everyone else, not wasting away selling overpriced denim to bratty teenagers with Daddy’s credit card. As I’m retrieving about 10 articles of clothing that some pesky kid has tried on and left in the dressing room, I feel my cell vibrate in my back pocket, indicating a text message. I begin to rehang the apparel on their appropriate racks then pull out my phone once I’m masked by the shroud of the jeans display. I suspect it’s Morgan but to my surprise it’s Dorian. My heart beats furiously and my breathing becomes ragged as if I’ve just run the length of the entire mall complex.
Dorian, 1:17 P.M.
-I want to see you.
God, it’s amazing the feelings this man can evoke with just a sentence. I think about delaying my response in an attempt to not seem too eager, but to hell with playing coy.
-I’m working :(
There. If he really wants to see me, maybe he’ll suggest meeting up later after work like the night before. At least that’s what I’m hoping.
“Hey, Gabi, there you are!”
Holy shit! My disturbingly cheerful supervisor pops up out of nowhere and scares the crap out of me, causing me to drop my phone and the pair of jeans draped over my arm. “Oh my God, Felicia, you scared me!” I clutch my chest in a cheesy soap opera fashion and scramble to pick up my phone and the jeans. “What’s up?”
“Oops! Sorry!” she smiles. This bitch is way too perky. It’s like she’s hooked up to a caffeine IV. “Hey, I am so, so, so sorry to do this but I’ve got to start cutting back a little on shifts. I think something is going on with the company but we’ll just keep that hush, hush!” She winks over exaggeratedly. “Would you be too upset if I let you go home early today?” She gives her best puppy dog look and even goes as far as jutting her bottom lip out. Gag.
“Sure!” Now it’s my turn to be cheery. Has wishful thinking finally paid off?
“Awesome! You’re the best, Gabi! And I promise it won’t just be you feeling the cutback on hours. It’ll be spread out, myself included.” She’s doing that damn sad face again but I don’t even care enough to be annoyed.
“No problem, send me home anytime,” I cheese like a lunatic. Her chirpy disposition must be rubbing off on me. That and the fact that my plans for the day have just took a turn for the better. I hurriedly fold the jeans and shove them on their reserved shelf and head back to the stockroom, vigorously texting on the way.
To Dorian, 1:28 P.M.
-Plans just changed. I’m off :)
Geez, I’ve got to quit with these damn emoticons. I get a reply just seconds later and am nearly jumping with glee. Dorian has got me wide open and I haven’t even known him a mere 48 hours.
-I’m at Starbucks. Come see me.
Though it’s a demand, and I don’t take kindly to demands from any man, I am only too eager to race down to the coffee shop in record time. I stop at our employee restroom to finger comb my hair and reapply my lipgloss before grabbing my things and waving goodbye to my coworkers without a second glance. So long, Suckas!
As I approach Starbucks, I slow my pace and take a few deep breaths, trying to get my head in a more level, nonchalant space. But no matter how cool I try to appear, it all evaporates as soon as I see him sitting at the very same table we sat at the day before. I pause for a beat and have to consciously remind myself how to walk. Left foot, right foot, left foot, right foot. I shakily approach the table and just stare. The man is simply gorgeous, clothed in a black V-neck t-shirt, jeans and a black leather jacket. He gazes back at me in a sultry, lustful way. I can’t tell if he’s laying on the sex or if that’s his usual look but I’m buying it. All of it.