Blame It On The Gin:On The Rocks

"What did you think?" I ask her as she crawls back to me. My arms wrap around her, holding her tight. She smiles up at me.

"I think getting you off makes me feel really good."

"I like that," I tell her. "I want you to feel good forever."

She swallows. "Forever?" And then she laughs. "Okay. Crazy man! Why don't we get coffee first?"

"That sounds good," I say. "I'll run across the street and get us some bagels and lattes."

"All right," she says. "You don't mind if I stay here and shower?"

"No," I say. "Let's have breakfast in bed."

"You don't have to get to work or anything?"

"No, it's Saturday. What about you?"

She shakes her head. "No, I am looking for a job."

Noting that, I kiss her on her forehead before getting out of bed and looking for a pair of joggers, a pair of Nikes, and a sweatshirt. When I get back with breakfast, I can ask her about the kind of work she wants, and maybe one of my contacts can get in touch with her about a position.

"I won't be long," I tell her.

"All right," she says, wrapping a sheet around her and walking to my bathroom.

"Help yourself. There's shampoo, conditioner, everything."

"Sounds good," she says, looking over her shoulder as I grab my wallet and keys.

"I'll be right back," I say again.

"Looking forward to it," she says, biting her bottom lip.

I leave through the elevator and stop in the lobby when the doorman asks how I'm doing. "Fine," I say. "Had a good night, actually."

"Good to hear it, Grant. You deserve to be happy."

I head across the street and get in line. The coffee shop in my neighborhood is a popular one and there is a queue lined up all the way outside. I wish it weren't the case. I want to be right back upstairs in my apartment with Ginny, but I also want to nourish her, especially considering how many calories she must have expended last night and this morning.

I finally get to the front of the line and place my order. "Two lattes and two bagels, cream cheese on the side," I say, hoping I'm getting her something she'll like.

A few minutes later, I'm leaving the cafe and looking across the street at the florist.

Smiling and feeling like a million bucks, I walk straight to that shop, knowing I want to bring Ginny back more than breakfast. I want to bring her flowers, let her know that I want this to be something real, something more than one night. Damn. I wasn't joking when I told her I could see it as forever.

I want it to turn into more than a hookup. She made me feel incredible.

"Can I help you with anything?" the florist asks.

"I want a bouquet that says I'm falling in love," I tell her with a smile.

She beams back at me. "In that case, let's go with roses."

10

GINNY

Before I get in the shower, I decide to grab myself a glass of water from the kitchen. I'm parched after all that exertion last night.

I smile like a fool, thinking about how incredible everything has been since the moment I met Grant, since the moment he caught me, literally, in his arms.

As I'm walking back to the shower, I notice a wall of pictures in his hallway.

I pause, noticing his family photos, trips that he's taken with friends, and then, surprisingly, a plaque with his name on it.

At first glance I think it's a degree from school, but it's not. It's a plaque recognizing his work to bring clean water to third world countries.

I press my lips together as my heart freezes.

Holy shit, Grant is the owner of Water Well.

I suddenly feel like an idiot, and no amount of water is going to settle my stomach. I feel sick.

I showed up yesterday for that interview and I was turned away. One look at me through his glass-walled office and he didn't want to give me a chance.

And then last night... I shake my head, feeling sick to my stomach.

He didn't think I was worth his time to interview, but he took me home?

He was playing with my emotions and now I feel like a fool. I wanted that job so damned bad, and all night and all morning, he knew that?

God! Men!

Feeling horrible, I reach for my clothes, hating that they’re nothing but a stupid party dress and heels, wishing I had something sensible to wear for my walk of actual shame.

I grab my purse, make sure my phone's in it, and I leave out his front door, not looking back. I don't want to meet him in the elevator on his way back up, so I take the stairwell, leaving two steps at a time, unable to get out of that place fast enough.

When I pass the doorman, I glance down, not wanting to catch his eye.