“What’s the matter, Lizzie?” Sarah squeezed my shoulders, her hair brushing my cheek as she leaned over to peek at the papers strewn over the desk.
“My hundredth hang-up tonight!” I rolled my eyes toward the phone. “They finish half the stupid survey, and
“Don’t sweat it, hon.” She reached across me and gathered my completed surveys. “Don just went home and left me in charge. Let’s knock off ten minutes early.” I plopped my pencils into a cup and stood, stretching, my shirt pulling up out of my jeans. Sarah poked the eraser end of a pencil at my navel as she passed by, and I laughed, following her toward the office.
“David… Tina… Chad… Stacy… Lynn!” Sarah trailed her hand across each cubicle as we walked by and heads popped up one by one. “Turn ’em in folks! Time to go home.”
I followed her into the office, heading past her toward the small fridge.
“Throw me one.” She sat down, kicking off her heels and putting her bare feet up on Don’s desk.
When I touched a can of Mountain Dew to the sole of her foot, she squealed.
“Nice polish. Can I borrow it?” I tossed the can to her and she studied her toes.
“Sure.”
“I’m outta here.” Stacy slapped her surveys on the desk. “Eight good ones.” I stuck my tongue out at her overachieving back as she walked away and Sarah grinned. Chad and Lynn left together, arm in arm, without one survey between the two of them completed.
“What a waste.” Sarah sorted surveys on the desk. “Teenage hormones! What were they doing-calling
“He’s waiting to be alone with you.” I watched him through the two-way glass.
”Not gonna happen.” Sarah snorted. “Besides, work relationships are bad news.
The male-female power struggle is tough enough without adding that to it, right?” I shrugged. “He’s cute.”
Sarah laughed. “How easily you forget that you’re attached at the hip to a certain stud who picks you up here every night…or is there trouble in paradise?”
“No, but…” I grumbled. “He’s not picking me up tonight. He’s going out with ‘the guys.’”
“Aww-so you have to spend a night all alone?” She mock-pouted. “Welcome to my life.”
“Here ya go, Sarah.” David gave me a steady look as he came in the office. He was clearly wishing I wasn't around. She took the surveys and sorted them onto the desk, acknowledging him less than she had anyone else tonight. “So what are you girls up to on a Friday night?”
“Not much.” I might as well not have even opened my mouth. He was all about Sarah.
“How about you?” David nudged her. “I’m meeting some friends at Industry tonight-want to come?”
I watched her, half-smiling. Did he really believe the woman known around the office as The Ice Princess was going to agree to go to some dance club with him last minute?
I watched his jaw work as he waited. I felt bad for him, knowing Sarah wouldn’t say yes, even though I knew she wanted to-some part of her did, anyway. She wouldn’t admit it to me, of course. Not out loud.
I’d told her, one slow Saturday we spent hanging out in the office, how I’d go for David in a heartbeat if I weren’t seeing Tim. I’d never seen Sarah turn so cold — and that was saying something. I knew immediately, in spite of her objections, she had a thing for him. She told me right away to drop it-she insisted she didn’t want to talk about it.
So of course, I teased her about it constantly. That was the way things were between me and Sarah. And really, I wasn’t kidding about David. Yeah, he was older, practically old, but he was
She sat in silence for a moment, glancing at me and seeing the light in my eyes.
“Actually, Lizzie and I are having a girls’ night.”
“That so?” David looked over at me. I neither confirmed nor denied-I just smiled and looked away. “Well sounds like fun. See you two later.” He went out of the office to get his jacket.
“He’s not a bad guy.” I shut the door and lowered my voice. “Besides…have you seen his basket?”
“His what?” She wrinkled her nose.
“His basket. His… you know…” I cupped the crotch of my jeans as if there were a bulge there.
“Oh Jesus, Lizzie, is that all you think about?” Sarah laughed. “There’s more to life than sex. He’s a thirty-five-year-old telemarketer, sweetie…” I raised my eyebrows. “So are you.”
“I’m a telemarketing
”You keep saying that.” I rolled my eyes. “Methinks the lady doth protest a lot.”
“Too much.” Sarah smirked. “Methinks the lady doth protest too much.”
“Exactly.”
