“Oh fuck, you are in so much fucking trouble. Dude, she is going to fucking string you up by the balls. Remember that chick you played in college? The one you promised to bring home during spring break? She turned around and cancelled all your tickets. Then she put that ad all over Craigslist. ‘Lonely man searching another lonely man,’” I remind him.
“She was fucking crazy! I had to change my number four times. Four! Then I had to start wearing beanies so she wouldn’t recognize me.” He shakes his head, while I laugh so hard I fall over. He looks over at me. “It was fucking May! I had to take three showers a day. I had no idea the head could sweat so much.”
I finally stop laughing and look in the bags that Lauren just dumped on the table in front of us. “If I were you, I’d enjoy this. It’s probably going to be the last meal she hasn’t had the time to spit in.”
We spend the next thirty minutes eating our lunch while shooting the shit about everything else.
“Are you going out this weekend with Deborah?” I ask him.
“Not sure what my weekend plans are. What do you have planned?”
I take out my phone, scrolling down the list of names. “Andrea, that is who I plan to do. I met her at Starbucks yesterday. She has the longest legs I’ve ever seen. I plan to have them wrapped around my neck, and not in a wrestling move, either.” I raise my eyebrows. “If you know what I mean.”
I get up, putting the garbage in the bag. “This has been a hoot, but sadly, I must run.”
I get up and walk out, going straight to Lauren’s desk. She is busy typing something, so she only turns her head. “Thank you so much for lunch, Lauren. You were a lifesaver.” I walk away, leaving her with a wink. Just to piss him off even more.
By the time I get to my office the sexual harassment bullshit is underway. I slide in the back and sit next to Harvey. “Did I miss much?” I ask him.
“They just showed a picture of you and what to stay away from.”
I smile at the PowerPoint Cassandra is going over. Listening to what she’s saying.
“If at any time, anyone corners you and makes you feel uncomfortable”—she looks around at the people in the room—“whether by touching or with sexual innuendo, it’s your right to come and say something.”
I lean over, keeping my voice low. “If you corner someone and what you say and do is making her uncomfortable, you aren’t doing it right.” I can’t continue because Cassandra calls my name.
“Is there anything you’d like to add to that, Mr. King?”
“I’m just wondering if we’re going to have a dress code restriction. I wouldn’t want to offend anyone if I”—I shrug my shoulders—“wear my kilt one day and it isn’t long enough.”
“You’re Scottish?” one of the interns asks.
I smirk at her, almost tempted to ask her if she wants to see under my kilt, but Cassandra interrupts again.
“If at any time you have a complaint about what someone else is wearing, please send me an email with the description of the outfit in question.”
“Or lack thereof,” I interrupt.
Some interns roll their eyes while the other half try to catch my eye.
The rest of the seminar or conference or whatever the fuck you want to call it goes by with me laughing at all the ‘situations’ she talks about. They’re mostly stuff I’ve done. Don’t get me wrong. I’m not one to throw myself at a woman, or make her uncomfortable. But if I connect with her and she connects with my cock, who am I to say no to that.
By the time I get home and unwind, I fall asleep to SportsCenter.
Chapter Three
Kaleigh
I finished doing outside yoga by eleven forty-five. If my client wasn’t so sweaty and hairy, I might have been tempted to do the plow pose with him, but I just can’t handle back hair.
So instead I stopped by Starbucks to get myself a soy Frappuccino as I made my way to my yoga studio. Opening the glass door, the seashell wind charm zings. There’s a reception desk as soon as you walk in to the right. On the walk in block letters form the word Namaste. When you walk around the corner you enter what we call the ‘chill out room’, painted all white. White and tan cloth chairs align one wall while there’s a low canvas brown couch against the other wall. In the middle is a low white wooden table with ivory candles. To the left of the room are the men’s and women’s locker rooms. Straight ahead is the door that leads to the ‘Zen room’.
The room is darker than the chill room. The walls are painted a dark chocolate brown. A square black box hangs suspended in the middle of the room. White chiffon curtains hang and are tied together all the way around. In the center is a round dim light and crystal beads are hanging to the floor. Around the room are six love seats, all with big plush cushions you can lie on, tiny tree lights scattered all over the room. In the middle is a rug set out for stretching if needed. The music coming out of the room is gentle charms, with flutes in the background. Just the sound makes the stress leave your shoulders. I check to see if there are people in there. During the day, there are many people who pop in to just sit down and block out the everyday hustle we all live in. It’s also a no phone zone. I know it’s a shocking concept, but it’s the way I roll.