The Rancher's Untamed Heart

We shared commiserating looks.

“Hey, let’s leave that alone,” she said. “Topic closed. Work sucks. We’re moving on. Tell me about your weekend!”

“Justin took me out to Le Petite Gourmand,” I said. “It was spectacular. Everything you could ever want. I had duck breast for dinner, and the desserts…”

“Oh, yeah, French desserts,” she said, closing her eyes and looking blissful.

“I got a lemon crème brûlée,” I told her in a sing-song voice.

“You’re the worst,” she said. “I want it. I want it so badly.”

“Pretty sure I gained five pounds just from that dinner.”

“That’s okay, you worked it off after, I bet,” she said.

I blushed.

“Come on, Sarah,” I said. “That’s not really appropriate.”

“I don’t care,” she said, cheerfully. “He still flirting with the waitresses?”

“No,” I said immediately. I remembered the waitress bending over the table and laughing with Justin, and looking almost guilty when she saw me coming out of the ladies room.

“Mm-hm,” she said.

“He wasn’t flirti

ng with that girl when we all went out,” I insisted. “He’s just a friendly guy. He was friendly to you, too?”

“Not as friendly as he was to the waitress and her perky, perky tits,” she said. “Neil noticed, too, and my Neil has the subtlety of a two-by-four.”

I rolled my eyes.

“So what if he looked at her chest?” I asked. “Apparently you did too.”

“It was hard not to,” she admitted. “Hey, as long as he makes you happy. It’s not like he’s going out to strip clubs every weekend, or anything.”

“Okay,” I said. “Hope you had a good weekend, but I’ve gotta get back to work in a minute.”

We chatted about her and Neil and their neighbors for another few minutes, and then she headed to her own office.

Looking out the frosted glass window of my office door, I was pretty sure I saw Herman Banks walk past a few minutes later. Part of me wanted to leap out of my chair, hurry around the desk, and confront him, but I knew it would be a bad idea. That would guaruntee no promotion for me, possibly ever.

It wasn’t like it was a promotion up to supervisor, or anything. Just another fifty cents an hour and a better parking spot.

I had to let it go.

The next day, I slept in and didn't get to the office until seven-thirty. Sarah showed up at five minutes to nine, just like always, and ducked her head into my office.

"You, me, lunch, today," she said, pointing at me sternly.

"You've got it, boss," I said. "I've got to run out to double-check page seven of this form, but I should be back by noon."

"See that you are, underling," she said. Sarah was, technically, my supervisor, after all.

I was, in fact, back by noon. Sarah immediately dragged me back out to the parking lot.

"Come on," she said. "Come on, come one. Food."