by Dan Knight
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The next morning she dragged herself to work. She put her tea next to her workstation and leaned over the cup letting the steam rise into her head.
“Are you all right?” her boss asked.
She looked up from the computer.
Abrams looked concerned. He had big, blue eyes, and he smiled sympathetically.
“Yes, sir,” she smiled to reassure him. “I had trouble sleeping.”
“You look sick.”
“No, I’m fine, sir. I just,” she sucked in a breath. “I just can’t sleep.”
“Maybe you should see a doctor.”
“I do, every day, right here.”
“No, I mean a real doctor,” he smiled. “Angela, you’re special. I care about you.”
A bittersweet longing beat in her breast. Dr. Abrams was much older than she was, and he was single. His wife had passed away, and he had never remarried. His work consumed him, and he rarely found time to leave the lab much less date.
She had dreamed of seducing him. But it was against the rules, and it would ruin his career. She would not let it happen to him. He was the nicest, most decent human she knew.She wanted no harm to come to him. But it would be so easy. He was so naïve, and he had so much money. More money than she could earn in three lifetimes.
“You just don’t look so well. Is there anything I can do?”
“Really, doctor, I’m okay. I just need to sleep.”
“I’d call the agency, but I don’t want to get you into any trouble.”
“I’ll be all right, doctor.”
“Take an early lunch, and get an hour’s nap.” He checked his watch. “I won’t say anything, if you come back looking better. I feel like a heel, and I haven’t even gotten out the whip yet.” He grinned, trying to make light of the situation.
She hung her head. He must think I’m a flake. He thinks I’ve been out all night bar hopping. A tear welled in her eye. She wanted him to think well of her.
“Thank you, doctor. I’ll do that. I’ll take a nap in the lounge. If you need me, I’ll be there after lunch.”
“Good, then.”
She locked her computer. Everything in the lab was hush, hush. She took her satchel and left.
In the washroom, she tried to cover up the black circles around her eyes. No wonder he thinks you’re a flake. And you haven’t even got a headache to show for it.