"HAVE YOU given the offer any thoughts yet?" McConnon walked into my office with his hands tucked into the pockets of his trousers.
"Not yet, boss," I felt a wave of anxiety run through me. I didn't want to think about the possibility of moving.
"I hope you make the right choice, Alyssa. This is a step up for your career. Don't pass on this opportunity."
As much as I wanted a change, I wasn't sure moving back to Chicago was the right choice. It felt as though I was taking a step back instead of forward.
"Give me until Monday. I just need the weekend to organize my thoughts."
"Whatever you need, Champ," he clicked his fingers, and walked out. Champ? Do I look like a dog?
Delia had plans for me on Saturday. She didn't give much details, but said to wear something comfortable. I assumed that she meant no heels, since I was always in them. And I was still yet to confirm if I'd have the time to.
I remembered how she commented on my strappy heels the other night...
"You have sexy feet. How do you manage to pull off heels so gracefully? I usually feel as though I'm going to fall over!"
We were on our second bottle of wine, and I decided to drink as slowly as I possibly could. I didn't want to be pulled over, and fail a breathalyzer test. God knew that I needed to be at work early the next morning.
"That's because you're wearing a full six-inches, without proper leveling for the front of your feet. I'm going to have to take you shoe shopping someday," I tell her.
Her index finger curled around the stem of her wine glass, "as much as I'd love that, I don't think any heels can be comfortable. I only wear them when I want to look extra intimidating."
She stretched her feet out at the end of the table, where I noticed her cute, gladiator sandals.
"Are those Louis Vuitton?" I asked.
"Yeah. I bet you wouldn't be caught dead in something so basic."
I liked that she wasn't a glam girl all the time. It was nice to see her in casual clothes, and still looking as elegant as the night we met, when she wore that stunning dress.
"I might have a pair of those deep inside of my closet. But I'm not really a Louie girl."
"What are you then?" She asked. I bit down on my bottom lip, hoping that I wasn't ruining the smooth layout of my lipstick.
"I don't have a preference really. It's all about what I see, and if I like it."
"Oh, I see," I uncrossed my ankles, and crossed my legs instead, trying to ease the thumping. Why was I getting turned on? Had it been that long since I'd had sex? It was just a friendly dinner. That's all it was. Even though I knew that I was definitely attracted to the woman in front of me.
I'd had a few experiences back in high school and college that made me certain that I was straight. But was age making me realize that I was wrong? Was I really into womenâthis woman?
"Have you ever tried 1998 Hilkens? It's my favorite red," I steered the conversation to another topic.
"My dad actually has a few cases of that in his cellar. It's the only thing that I drink when I'm visiting," she told me.
"Bring me a bottle next time you're there, and we'll find something to toast to."
"Sounds like a plan."
I wiggled my toes out of my heels, and felt even more relaxed, "it sure is."
"Is it true?" Meggie walked into my office, and towards me.
"What are you talking about?" I'd never seen her eyes so red before. Has she been crying?
"You're really going to Chicago?" Her eyes looked into mine, and she reached for my shoulder blade. The way that she looked at me was so unfamiliar, which made my chest tense.
"Does everything spread around like wildfire here?" I removed my eyes from hers, and looked at my computer screen. Her hand gently cupped my shoulder blade, and her fingers pressed into my skin.
"Miss Masters, I don't want you to go," she leaned closer, trying to wedge herself in between me and the desk. We'd never been so close before, and it was beginning to worry me.
"Meg, whatâwhat are you doing? This isn't appropriate," my eyes darted at the door. It was still open, but thankfully no one was passing by.
"Don't you ever think about me?" She asked. I pushed my chair back and stood. Meggie then proceeded to unbutton her shirt, and I turned away.
"Please don't do that. I'm your boss, Meg."
"Oh, come on, you've never thought about this? I've imagined you bending me over your desk over a hundred times."
A hundred times? Of course, it was an exaggeration. But God, what was this girl up to?
I placed my hand over my eyes, and blindly walked to the door of my office, "please get yourself together, and be ready to talk to me when I get back."
I headed into the break room, and grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge. I couldn't wrap my head around the thought of my assistant wanting to take a go at me. It wasn't something that I'd expected. Is Meg really into women? I never knew. And I'd never thought about her in that way. Most days, she annoyed the hell out of me.
"You look a bit shaky there, Chicago scaring you that badly?" Wong poured himself a cup of coffee. He then looked at me, as he took a sip of the black brew.
"McConnon's so confident that I'll take the position that he's told everyone?" I scoffed.
"Actually, he told Jones, and you know she can't keep her mouth shut. Can't believe those two are still fucking," Wong leaned against the counter, and shook his head, "I'd take the position if I were you. I would if he'd offered it to me. So don't hold out too long, cause I might snag it," he waved me off, as he left the room. I stood there, afraid of going back to my own office. Mustering up enough courage to face her, I headed back, only to see her sitting at my desk, waiting for me. Why's she in my chair?
"Meg," I wasn't sure what I wanted to say, or how to explain to her that I wasn't interested, regardless of me being her boss or not.
"Yes, Alyssa," what happened to Miss Masters, huh? I closed my office door, realizing that it might have been a bad move, but I didn't want to risk anyone listening in. I could've gone to HR, and filed a complaint, just to protect myself in case of anything, but I didn't want to jeopardize her reputation at the firm.
If I did decide to take the offer in Chicago, I hoped that McConnon would find another suitable position for her. She was well liked, and good at her job. And she did make my job a lot easier.
"You know that I'm straightâ"
"Really?" She placed her hands on the desk, and pushed herself up, "I don't think I've ever heard about you and any guy."
Well, it had been a while since I'd dated anyone. I had a few short relationships here and there, but it was mostly about sex. I had no time to deal with someone else's needs when I could have barely fulfilled my own. And relationships always stressed me out, and made my life more hectic than it should have been. Was that just because I was always dating men?
"That's because I keep my personal life separate from here," I tell her.
"Sure," she walked around the desk, and towards me. I gulped. At least her shirt was buttoned appropriately, "have you ever wondered what it would be like with a woman then?"
My eyes narrowed. I'd drunkenly kissed girls before, but never felt compelled to sleep with them. Maybe that's because I never considered the thought of being with a woman. My family basically lived in the church. They breathed God's name with every breath that they took. And regardless of how rebellious I'd always been, back then, I believed that it was a sin to be attracted to the same sex. But that was what was instilled in me. Over time, I developed my own feelings towards everything around me, not what I'd been taught. Yet, I'd never really been with a woman. Why is that?
I always thought that I'd get married, and have kids someday, but no matter the amount of countless men I'd dated, I couldn't bring myself to settle down with them.
"No," I said.
"You took way too long to respond, and that was extremely vague," she reached for my hand, "at least give me a chance. You don't find me somewhat attractive?"
Meggie was pretty. I liked her name, and I sometimes enjoyed having someone younger around to make growing old not matter so much. She reminded me of when I was her age, and made the same mistakes that she would, or had the same carefree attitude. And I didn't miss it. Being older had its pros most daysâI was well established in my career, worked for six figures a year, had enough experiences to not run behind anyone, and I only took orders occasionally.
The wrinkles, grey hairs and fear of dying hadn't kicked in yet. I was still young enough to rock heels, and pull off minidresses, but too old to go partying every weekend.
"I'm not gay, Meg. I hope we can put this behind us and move on," Chicago suddenly didn't seem like the worst idea anymore, as long as I could get away from the awkwardness.
"You won't even try!" I'd known her for almost two years. How did I never notice that she had a crush on me? Was it a recent development, or had she always felt that way?
"I'm scheduled for a client in a few minutes. You can take the rest of the day to ease your mind," I grabbed a folder off of my desk, "I hope you feel better."
That was such a bitch move. But it was necessary. I gave her a sympathetic smile, as she stood there in dismay, before turning my attention to the door. I headed towards the conference room feeling guilty, and a bit worried.