Dirty Sweet Cowboy

I shrug .

She rolls her eyes dramatically, nudging me with her shoulder and leaning over the keyboard .

“Here, let me help you,” she starts, typing with her long, clicky fingernails. “Hello, Ethan. Nice to hear from you. I’d love to go out to dinner, thanks for asking. Smooches, Ava .”

My eyes open wide. “Wait, did you just send that? Did you seriously just send him an email ?”

She shrugs. “Yes, and now I’m famished. Can we go to lunch please ?”

My head starts to spin. “What did you just do?” I demand. “You really just sent that email? Oh my God, I can’t believe you !”

&n

bsp; “God, you’re so dramatic. Get your purse .”

She saunters out of my cubicle, and I snatch my purse and trot behind her, trying to keep my voice down .

“Bea, wait !”

But she just sashays toward the receptionist again. She’s very proud of herself, I can tell. My stomach churns ominously .

“Hold on,” I gulp. “Ladies room, now !”

I duck into the ladies room before we get to the reception area, my hands out to steady myself against the counter. The room seems to tip in front of my eyes and I breathe deeply, trying to get a grip .

“Jeez, Ava, I was just joking… are you okay?” Bea says, coming up behind me. She flips on a tap and wets a couple of paper towels that she hands to me .

I dab at my forehead, blinking over and over again .

“Bea, what were you thinking! I did not want to send that email !”

“You don’t look so good,” she mutters, concerned .

“Well, you just agreed to a date that I didn’t want !”

Her hand reaches out, and she pats my arm. “No, I mean it,” she says again. “You don’t look so good, Ava. You okay ?”

I fan myself with my hand, shivering slightly. “I’m fine. Just adjusting to the new space .”

“Are you tired? Hungry ?”

“Yeah, starving,” I admit .

“Nauseous? Dizzy ?”

“Those too .”

She squints at me, staring me up and down. “Is your period late by any chance ?”

My heart stops .

A mental image of a calendar pops into my head and I count back twenty-eight days, then a few days more... oh no .

“Oh my God, Bea .”

Bea snaps her giant purse open, plunging her hand in and digging loudly to the bottom. She pulls out a box .

“Why do you have a pregnancy test in your purse?” I ask her .