Page 48 of Don't Quit the Day Job

"Yes?" she says, blinking rapidly as I take another step toward her.

"I don't have a six pack."

"You don't?" Her eyes widen and she looks down toward my stomach in disbelief.

"I have an eight pack," I say as I bring my lips close to her ear and blow lightly before pulling back.

Her face is red and I watch as she swallows hard. "An eight pack?" She rolls her eyes. "Of course you would have an eight pack."

"I'm a perfectionist." I shrug. "What can I say?"

"Nothing," she says.

"Well, good for you, but of course you wouldn't want to see my eight pack, would you?"

"No, of course not," she says. "Why would I?"

"I don't know. Maybe because you were thinking about it all night."

"No, I was not," she says, blinking. "Why would you say that?"

"Why are you acting like I read your mind? Were you thinking about me last night?" I ask, looking her up and down.

I realize that even though the white shirt she's wearing is Victorian in style, the material is also quite thin and I can see the outline of her bra. Dirty thoughts run through my mind as I picture undoing one button at a time and ripping that shirt off of her. I bet she has a beautiful chest. I bet her breasts are perky and...

"Sorry, what did you say, Mr. Spector?" she says, and I realized that I have completely spaced out.

"I said that I think you should do some research on Mrs. Whittington this morning and give me a bullet list of everything you find out around one o'clock."

"Okay," she says, nodding. "Is there anything else you'd like me to do?"

"No. I think that is good for now," I say. "And you do see your office desk right outside there?"

"Yes," she says. "Should I go there now or..."

"I think that would be best," I say. "Thank you for the bagel and the coffee."

"You're welcome," she says, turning to me with a small smile. "Let me know if there's anything else you want me to do or you know, paperwork to file. Or..."

"Don't forget you're meeting with HR again later today. I do not want to get in trouble for having you miss a second day."

"I know," she says. "I won't forget."

There's a warm smile on her face as she runs her fingers through her hair.

"And Lila?" I ask her as she heads toward the door.

"Yes, Mr. Spector?" She turns and looks back at me.

"I'm glad to see you this morning."

"Thank you," she says, looking surprised. "Just don't think you can text me or email me every evening and demand a bagel."

"Well, I don't need to do that now, do I? You already know."

"I guess I do," she says, shaking her head. "Okay. I'll do the research now."

"Sounds good."

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