Page 11 of Analysing Her Assets

The Race Is On

(57 days to end of year finish line, 31 days to new position)

8. Tamar

The alarm went off in the ungodly hour of 6:00 am.

Google said puppies needed around seven hours of sleep and then she should take them outside to pee, in the same place always.

She threw on an old T-shirt and sweatpants, not bothering with a bra. Crawling after Giddy, who spent the night beneath her small kitchenette table, she leashed him and trudged down the stairs. Giddy ran the length of his leash, sniffed a tree, then another tree, came back, doing everything but his business. Tamar stood waiting, slightly shivering. She should have worn a hoodie.

Fast, heavy footsteps approached. There was a man running up her street, jogging towards her with a dog leashed to his waist. He wore a long-sleeved running Dri-FIT that was snug on his biceps. Tight jogging shorts highlighted a bulge and revealed a pair of muscly thighs and calves. Nice. She raised her stare and jolted when Gideon Sela’s bright hazel eyes met hers. Fuck. He stopped next to her, jogging in place.

“What are you doing here?” she asked.

Remembering she was braless, she hugged herself. He looked so together and organized with his hair bunched into a man-bun, his flexible running leash tied to his neon-bright waist-pouch.

“I always run in the early morning, but you’re never here. I can take your puppy, I know how to run with two dogs.”

She tore her eyes away from the way his leg muscles flexed and moved.

Giddy and Gideon’s dog sniffed each other. Her dog wagged his tail furiously and ran in a circle around her, entangling her in the old leash. Crap, the last thing she needed was for it to tear before she bought a new one.

“How was your first night with a puppy?” He was still running in place.

“Fun,” Tamar lied, trying to look dignified while rotating herself counter to Giddy’s running.

Yesterday evening, when she arrived home, she made the mistake of unleashing Giddy. He ran into her bedroom and chewed her favorite pair of slippers. Then he jumped on her two-seat couch and wrestled with her lovely orange pillow, which now had a tear along its side. Afterwards, he pooped in the corner of her living room. Frantic googling while Giddy peed under one of her two kitchenette chairs revealed that she needed a small box, or special sheets, but the nearest pet shop had closed hours before, and there were no deliveries available.

“I now know why you took a dog.” Gideon’s voice was cool. “You’re running for chief analyst, and you wanted to impress Keynan. Nathanela called me yesterday to her office and interviewed me for the job.”

“I know, I don’t get it. You just got here!”

“I’m a senior analyst, same as you. We’re the same age. I have an extensive background in business.”

Tamar fumed, giving vent to the anger simmering inside her all yesterday.

“I accepted you became a senior analyst in no time. I said to myself, it’s not because you’re a man, N wouldn’t think like that, right?” Gideon opened his mouth to answer, and Tamar overrode him. “I thought, okay, what with all the real estate analysts leaving for the private equity funds, and you’re clearly half-talented. But for you to be in the running for this! Same as me! It’s because you’re a man!”

Gideon’s mouth set.

“I don’t write my evaluations with my dick,” he answered. “Your dog pooped. You need to swoop that up.”

“Huh?” Giddy had finally let go, not half a meter from her feet, leaving a smelly, somewhat runny pile on the sidewalk. “I need to...?”

“Yes. You don’t want people to step on it. Don’t you have a poop bag?” Tamar shook her head. Gideon ripped a small green bag out of his running pouch.

“Here, use this,” he said. Tamar crouched, acutely aware of her free breasts jiggling in the loose T-shirt. But a quick glance revealed Gideon was pointedly looking away. Cleaning the sidewalk as best she could, she then disposed of it in a street’s garbage can. Humiliation heated her face and neck.

“Done?” he asked in a dry voice and scooped another strap out of his annoying pouch. He looped it around Giddy expertly, handing her the old leash.

“He needs to go out and have his run.” She opened her mouth to protest that she didn’t need any favors, but he cut in, “Don’t argue. I’m doing it for him, not for you. I’ll bring him back. Where do you live?”

“Here.” She pointed at her building. “Apartment 12 on the third floor.”

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