“Holy shit, he did, Em. Crap, if it weren’t a whole other HR violation for Emily to deal with later, I could kiss you right now, Leslie.”
He leans a wrinkly cheek towards me, and I hold a hand up in his face in warning.
“Not happening, Gollum. But man, I’ll forgive the pantlessness for this one. Now get the hell out of here and go put some pants on, you wonderful weirdo.”
“Where are your pants, honey?“ Johnathan’s voice barely containing his amusement.
“The tag was too itchy. I can’t think when it’s like that. So…this was the only logical solution. Rational, really.”
If I had a dollar for every time this man told me something was ‘Rational, really,’ we wouldn’t need funding.
“Em…” I groan her name, the intensity of my headache building from the sheer nonsense of the day.
“Come on, Les,” she laughs as she ushers him out of the conference room. Let’s go find you some non-itchy pants and maybe some shoes, and we’ll talk again about the dress code.”
“Don’t forget to check in your pull request this time!”
He flips me the bird again as he shuffles out of the conference room.
It’s apparently our only true form of communication. She escorts him out and returns, shutting the door with an intense breakdown of laughter.
We dissolve into our usual musings about Leslie and his nonsense, and all agree that as much as he drives me to the brink of insanity, we could not replace his knowledge of our code base if we tried. He’s my necessary evil.
Now, both round on me expectantly, clearly not having been distracted enough to let me off the hook in explaining my late-night antics.
“All right, Boss, fess up. What’s up with the male review looking tag along last night?”
I give them the play-by-play without the entire highlight reel. Just that recount has me blushing furiously and wet just thinking about it.
“I swear, he’s a Foster Puppy. Back on the bench to find a new owner. He admitted himself that he didn’t want to do a no-strings situation. Besides, 12 years of age difference? At what point does that make me freaking creepy?”
“I don’t know,” Johnathan muses, “He looked like a whole amusement park on the security footage when we peeked this morning. I say, well done. Can I have two, please? When you hire me an assistant, Em. That’s what I want.”
“First, no. You can’t bang your assistant, John. I’m hiring you a babushka if I can find one. Second, Stella, if you were a wealthy guy, no one would say anything about it.”
“Successful businessmen hook up with models and strippers all the time. Just embrace your inner cougar for a minute and then find a new one. Then there’s no harm in getting weird.”
I still can’t shake the feeling that there was more to my connection with him, but I know it could never work. He’s twelve years younger than me and only ten years older than my daughter. There’s no world where that could work. Is there?
“Maybe it’s for the best, so neither of you catch feelings. Because what are you going to do if he does? Or worse, you actually thaw enough to catch some yourself?” Jonathan adds his sage two cents.
“It was really, really good…”
“Seriously,” Johnathan gushes, “give me your luck with men, even just a fraction of it.”
We all laugh, and I sink back into the chair as Steve walks in with our lunch from our favorite deli in hand.
A cougar? Is that really what I am now? Maybe there’s something to that if Puppies come with that kind of stamina. I can’t remember the last guy my age I dated who could go multiple rounds like that.
My mind drifts back into the memory of the night before, and I instantly regret it. My body responds to him when he’s not even here.
Stop it, Stella. Do not adopt the Puppy.
October 10 – 10:12 PM:
Cowboy: You at the gym tonight?
10:16 PM: