by J. Judkins
Kim chose to receive her message in the isolated front entrance. It wasn’t as private as she would have liked, but she knew it was the best she could hope for.
"You wanted to talk to me?" asked Kim.
Marsha looked up at Kim and smiled a warm and friendly smile that did nothing to alleviate Kim’s suspicions. "These were sent for you," Marsha said, and gestured to a bouquet of red roses sitting on her desk.
When Kim did nothing but simply stare at them, Marsha prompted, "They’re from your girlfriend, Angel?"
Kim’s expression hardened. "She’s not my girlfriend. Get rid of them. Send them back."
"Now, Kim," Marsha admonished, "I know you’re not used to us teasing you at work, but we're only doing it because you’ve never done anything like this before. We’re not intentionally trying to be cruel."
"I wish you’d mind your own business."
Marsha ignored the comment. "It’s obvious to me she cares about you if she’s sending you flowers."
Kim’s eyes flashed in anger. "She’s not my girlfriend." she repeated.
"You don’t send flowers for just being casual friends, Kimmie."
"Have you told anyone?"
"No, because I’m not going to be the one responsible for ruining what you have before it even gets started."
That brought Kim up short. It hadn’t occurred to her that Marsha might be a bit of a romantic. She returned her attention to the flowers.
"I’m not doing this just for you,” Marsha added. “I’m also acting in my own personal self-interest. I enjoy teasing you without mercy, Kim. It makes me feel better about myself. It gives my life meaning."
Her words made Kim smile despite her apprehension, but Marsha wasn’t done. "Imagine how I’d feel if we destroyed your one and only chance at happiness. Why, I’d feel so guilty, I might have to reevaluate my life. Reform my evil ways. Who wants that? Do you know what that’s like? It’s boring, Kimmie."
"Okay, I get it. I’ll take the flowers. But honestly, I don’t know why Angel would have sent them in the first place."
Marsha smiled and eased the flowers to within Kim’s reach. "Angel had to have a reason. Did the two of you have a fight?"
"No."
"Did she do something different? Something you didn’t expect?"
Bemused, Kim continued to shake her head.
"Maybe something romantic?" she pressed, a twinkle in her eye.
Kim thought back to the candlelight dinner last Friday. After a brief hesitation, she shook her head.
The momentary delay cost her dearly. "Gotcha," Marsha grinned.
"I told you, no. Nothing happened."
Marsha’s smile widened. "What did she do? You can tell me."
"You’re terrible." Kim turned on her heel and walked away. She rested her hand on the security door handle and waited. Marsha looked back at her and sighed. The door buzzed, and Kim pushed her way in.
It was only after Kim was back in cubicle land that Marsha seized the flowers and waved them in the air. "Kimmie! Wait! Don’t forget your flowers!"
Kim froze in her tracks. So did the rest of the building. The background chatter stopped. Even the phone calls fell silent.
For a moment, Kim strongly considered leaving them where they were and doing her best to forget about them. But only for a moment. Leaving them would be the absolute worst thing she could possibly do. Marsha wouldn’t keep them hidden behind her desk. She’d have them on display for anyone walking by. If no one noticed them in passing, she’d point them out.
Kim steeled herself, then turned and marched up to Marsha’s desk and snatched them away. She returned to her own cubicle and opened her desk, ready to shove them in as far as they would go when she was struck by the sight of them. Up close, they were really quite beautiful.
And nobody had ever sent her flowers before.
But she couldn’t have them out where anyone could see. Everyone would talk about them!
Kim closed her desk and instead placed the roses out of sight on the floor behind her computer.
And not a moment too soon. As she straightened in her chair, Larry appeared at her doorway. "Your girlfriend sent you flowers?"
Kim groaned and hid her face with her hands.
Why did I think I could hide it? Angel must have sent them to make it impossible for me to deny anything at work. That had to be it.
"What’s wrong? Did you two have a fight?" he continued, demonstrating his immunity to subtlety by not taking the subtle hint to go away.
Kim could hear Lucy hurrying down the hall. "What kind of flowers did she send?" she called as she approached.
"They’re just flowers.” Larry waved a hand. “What difference does it make?"
"Different ones mean different things."
"Yeah? So what's it mean when you shove the flowers in your desk, and pretend you never got them?"
"She did that?" Lucy gasped.
No, thought Kim, That wasn’t what happened.
Tom and Joe walked up to insert themselves into the conversation. "Maybe it means, oh, I don’t know, she’s embarrassed and you should leave her alone?" sneered Tom.
"Hmm. You could be right,” said Lucy.
"Or maybe the flowers meant they finally slept together?" suggested Joe.
Kim sputtered in outrage, and all eyes focused on her. She instantly regretted it and drew back in her chair.
Lucy held up her hands as if to calm her. "Now, Kim, there's no need to be embarrassed about it."
"She’s right,” agreed Joe. “Don’t be embarrassed. Sometimes it takes at least a week."
Everyone gave Joe varying looks of incredulity.
“What?” Joe tried to look indignant. “To win her over, I mean.”
“Idiot,” said Larry.
“She’s not embarrassed that it took her so long,” said Lucy.
Joe folded his arms and smirked. “Yeah? She looks embarrassed.”
“That’s because the rest of you are talking about her like she isn’t even here,” Tom said heatedly.
“And what are you doing, Tom?” asked Lucy.
“Defending her.”
“I wonder, does Kimmie even need defending?” called Marsha from her desk. “If nothing happened, she’d let us know.”
Kim stood, surprising everyone, including herself. "Get this through your heads, I am not sleeping with her," she declared, her emphasis on sleeping making it absolutely clear the word in this context meant sex.
Her audience gave her a long, hard look.
"Is it just me," said Joe, "or did anyone else notice how she emphasized the word sleeping?"
"I noticed," said Lucy. There were several corresponding nods of agreement.
"I didn't notice anything," groused Larry, displaying his superpower.
Chapter Twenty
By the end of the day, Kim had envisioned several plans to smuggle the roses out of the building. All were rejected as pathetic attempts to disguise what she carried. In the end, she simply waited for everyone else to leave. Only the cleaning crew witnessed her passing. If they knew her situation, they were wise enough to say nothing.
She did wrap them up in her jacket from her garage to her door. There was no sense in tempting fate.
As she entered her apartment, Kim ignored how spotless the house looked, even as she realized Angel must have spent the entire day cleaning. She stomped into the kitchen, the sweet-smelling roses clenched tightly in her fist, doing her best to hold onto what remained of her anger. Angel had deliberately embarrassed her at work, she reminded herself. She wanted to be furious, but feared all she’d be able to muster at this late juncture was annoyance.
Her nemesis was there, stirring a pot of something yet to be identified. Angel herself drew her attention, and all of Kim’s anger drained away as she gaped at her and stared.
Angel was wearing a cooking apron. And nothing else.
She turned upon hearing the sound of Kim babbling and stammering incoherently.
>
“Dinner will be ready in fifteen minutes,” she announced brightly.
“Ahh! Where? What?”
“I’m sorry?”
“Dammit, Angel, where are your clothes?”
“Oh! They’re drying. Did you notice? I did cooking, cleaning, and laundry today. My clothes are currently in the dryer. Could you retrieve them for me? They should be done by now.”
“But…why?”
“Why? Because I couldn’t leave this alone.” She gestured with her wooden spoon, indicating the pot sitting on the burners.
Kim’s mind rebelled as she thought it through. Her apartment was on the highest floor. The building’s laundry facility was at the lowest. “You washed all your clothes? Everything?” Kim demanded, incredulous.
“I haven’t washed your clothes, yet. It didn’t even occur to me to start laundry until much later in the day.”
“And what were you wearing when you washed your clothes?”
“I wasn’t naked, Kim. As you can see, I’m dressed in my cooking apron.”
Kim stared at her, unblinking, and Angel sighed. “I washed the whites first,” she explained. “While the whites were drying, I started the darker clothes. At present, I don’t own enough clothing to justify two separate loads. As it would have been inefficient to wash half a load of colors twice, I elected to wash them all at once.”
“Are the white clothes dry, then?”
“Yes, they are. Thirty-five minutes ago. I’ve put them away in one of your dresser drawers. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Why didn’t you put any of them on?”
“I’m assuming you meant, why didn’t I put them on at once? To answer, I didn’t want to waste extra time dressing in the laundry room downstairs. Such a display could have attracted unwanted attention.”
Kim’s left eye twitched. “And why didn’t you put anything on once you were back at the apartment?”
Angel paused as if considering her words. “I’d like to say I needed to get back to my cooking and couldn’t spare the time. But in truth, the thought hadn’t occurred to me.”
Kim rubbed her forehead, then waved a hand in dismissal. “Just go. Get your clothes, Angel.”
“Very well.” Angel pressed the wooden spoon into Kim’s hand. “Please, stir occasionally until I return.”
“Fine. What are you cooking, anyway?”
“Macaroni and cheese. You’ll need my cooking apron.” Angel pulled the apron up over her head and held it out for Kim.
Kim ignored the apron. Her hand returned to her forehead. She screwed her eyes shut.
“Is something wrong?” asked Angel.
“Were you seriously going to go downstairs and fetch the laundry dressed like that?”
“I’m not dressed at all.”
“Exactly.”
Angel looked down at herself. “Oh. I see the problem.”
“Good.”
“I should put on panties, first.”
“I’ll get the laundry. You stay here.”
Angel shrugged. She took her spoon back and shrugged into her apron. Kim left the room.
Three seconds later, Kim returned. She tossed the flowers on the counter top next to Angel. "Explain these," she growled.
“What about the clothes?”
“Forget the clothes, Angel. Explain the roses.”
"What did you wish to know about them?”
“Why did you send them?”
“You’ve told me our relationship is not a common relationship and normal rules would not apply. By sending flowers anonymously, it signaled to those at work that someone yet to be identified is interested in you. The flowers further demonstrate--"
"Wait," interrupted Kim, "anonymously? These weren't signed?"
"They were not."
"Go on."
"I anticipated you would understand they were from me. Those at your workplace should have concluded you were involved with someone else, and would keep their distance. Feel free to tell them about us in the future, if you want, after you’ve overcome your shyness and embarrassment."
Kim struggled to keep the bitterness from her voice. "They already know.”
"You’ve told them?" Angel asked, surprised.
"They know because they guessed, not because I told them anything."
"I see.” Angel nodded. “I’m not as perceptive as other people seem to be. It took me days before I concluded you were attracted to me."
"Days? Meaning, more than two?"
"More than one."
Kim let it go. "All of them think you’re my girlfriend, now. Most of them are convinced I’m sleeping with you."
"You are my girlfriend. And you did sleep with me. Isn’t that the truth?"
"No, it’s not, Angel. Sleep means sex, I told you that yesterday. We didn’t do anything."
"Then tell them the truth," Angel suggested. "We haven’t had sex, yet."
"I’m not going to tell them that."
"Why not?"
"Saying yet implies we’re going to.”
Angel patted Kim on the shoulder. "Don’t worry about it. We’ll do it soon."
Kim’s throat went dry, and she took an involuntary step back.
Okay, that was pretty blatant!
"You’re nervous," observed Angel.
"Who wouldn't be?" Kim rasped.
"There’s no need to be nervous. We'll wait until you’re ready."
Angel’s promise of a delay in her planned seduction failed to reassure her. "Are you saying you intend to do this soon?"
"We'll wait until you're ready," Angel said again.
"You do remember I said I wanted to take it slow, right?"
"I remember. As slow as you want."
Chapter Twenty-One
We’ll do it soon.
Kim couldn’t stop thinking about those four words. They echoed like a song melody in her head, endlessly repeating despite all attempts to ignore them. As far as Kim was concerned, Angel’s statement wasn’t simply evidence, it was an admission of intent.
It was past time she made it clear to Angel that she simply wasn’t interested. Not in any of it. No more stringing her along with delaying tactics like “not yet” and “too soon.” This time, she was going to put her foot down.
The kissing was kind of nice, she mused.
The seemingly traitorous thought surprised her.
The kissing was nice, wasn’t it?
Okay, maybe she could allow a kiss or two. Or three. But that was it. Nothing beyond that.
Kim threw herself into her gaming chair and turned on her computer. It was also Angel’s fault that she hadn’t been able to play any of her online games for nearly a week. It surprised her she hadn’t missed them. Normally, she couldn’t last for more than a few days without going through painful withdrawals.
She chalked it up to the uniqueness of Angel’s arrival and left it at that.
As the game began, Kim rubbed her hands in gleeful anticipation. Spending a few hours slaughtering enemy soldiers in a virtual world would do wonders to help her relax.
A few squeakers joined her team. Squeakers were prepubescent boys who swore non-stop or lied incessantly about how much sex they were getting. Hiding behind a veil of anonymity and without responsible parents supervising their actions, they felt safe to act as they wanted.
Similar to roaches, squeakers were guaranteed survivors of a nuclear holocaust. They infested the online worlds. Harmless, but annoying. Prolonged exposure was always enough to make Kim reaffirm old vows to never have children, ever.
“When I get done with this game, I’m gonna go see my girlfriend. I just have to buy a box of condoms, first,” one of them said.
Kim rolled her eyes and pulled off her headset.
After an hour of dominating the battlefield, Kim grew bored and quit her game. She logged onto World of Warcraft, instead, fully conscious she was putting off confronting Angel. She justified her actions by telling herself there was still time, and she wa
s busy at the moment. Angel could wait. There was time enough to get in a few quests, or spend an hour or so chasing the yellow dot mining ore. She could even get some crafting done, which would prove she’d accomplished something meaningful. Then she’d talk to Angel.
The hours dragged past, and Kim recognized the game wasn’t holding her interest as it should. This was a first for her. Usually time flew by when she was gaming.
We’ll do it soon, whispered Angel’s voice.
Yeah.
Not gonna happen.
She sighed and leaned back in her chair. It was no use. She couldn’t concentrate with the threat of her impending seduction looming over her head. Her mind kept thinking about what Angel would try, how it could happen, how far Angel might get, and what Kim would feel if Angel managed to make some progress. After realizing her character had gone away from keyboard through inaction on her part, she shut down her game and powered down her computer.
The blank screen silently mocked her.
Kim gave her chair and idle spin and looked at the clock on the wall. It persisted in telling her she had plenty of time, silently berating her for putting off the inevitable.
Enough delays, Kim thought. She left the room, filled with resolve and determination.
She found Angel in the living room reading a book, Term Limits by Vince Flynn, but Kim’s eyes skipped over her to the kitchen. She wasn’t at all hungry, but she went inside anyway, even knowing her justifications for doing so were flimsy at best.
Kim threw open cabinets at random and checked the refrigerator, barely taking time to scan the contents. She didn’t care that there were no snacks to be found, recognizing it as but a show, a thinly disguised excuse to delay the confrontation for but a few seconds more.
She returned to the living room.
This time, for real.
Angel looked up.
“Pizza!” Kim blurted. “You want pizza?”
“We already had dinner,” Angel pointed out. “You wanted more?”
“Yeah, I’m still hungry. Did you want pizza?”
“Okay?” Angel guessed.
“I’ll be back in thirty minutes.” She snatched up her keys on the way out the door, not bothering with a jacket.