Page 40 of Give Me a Chance
“Great, that’s done then. I’ll call the manager and Matt, you can accompany me to go sign the contract with them.”
“Sure,” he responds, unaffected by me. Even when I spent too much time this morning, looking for an outfit that is professional but revealing enough to affect him.
Huffing a breath, I get back to my desk after the meeting concludes. We’re making excellent progress, being slightly ahead of the timeline.
I answer all new emails and return a few calls before calling the manager of the chosen venue. We agree to meet tomorrow afternoon to go over the contract. In my peripheral vision, I see Matt entering the break room. He looks extra yummy today in a tight gray sweater and tan slacks. With the glasses, he’s once again the teacher from my fantasies. I follow him to the break room.
“Hey, tomorrow after lunch we’ll go to the venue to go over the contract, is that OK?”
“Sure, no problem,” he replies, sitting at the tiny table, poking the fork at his food.
Opening the fridge, I rummage through it, looking for the salad I brought for lunch. I know full well I left it on the top shelf, but I make a point of checking the bottom one while arching my back. I’m wearing my favorite jeans, and the fridge is directly in the eyesight of where he’s sitting, so why not use the opportunity.
Taking out the salad, I get up and turn around. He’s still poking at his food, completely unaware of my obviously lame attempt of seduction.
Letting out a quiet sigh, I join him at the table.
“Bon Appetit,” he says as I sit down.
“You, too.” His lunch, a poke bowl of sorts, is packaged in a glass container and he uses a wooden spork to eat it.
Of course, Mr. Nice Guy, who drives a hybrid and uses a reusable water bottle, also refrains from using plastic. I look down at my chicken salad, packaged in single-use plastic and my single use fork and frown.
“Everything OK?” he asks.
“Yeah, I just don’t feel like eating this.” I don’t bother explaining why his perfectly presentable persona grates on my nerves.
“Want to switch?” He doesn’t think twice before offering it.
“Oh, that’s fine. Thank you.”
“Probably a good call. I’ve been trying to meal prep, but cooking is definitely not my forte.” Ha! Finally, a thing he isn’t good at.
“Why not follow my lead, then?” I showcase my obviously bought salad.
“I do, sometimes. But I really want to get a hang of it. I’m hoping to have a family one day, and I’d like my kids to eat homemade meals.”
“Well, maybe your future wife will be a good cook?”
“Maybe. But I don’t want to depend on a woman having to cook mindset, you know?” Fuck. There he goes, being perfect again.
I nod and we continue eating in friendly silence. In another desperate attempt of seduction, I lean forward so my blouse shows an ample amount of my tits. His gaze turns up.
A-ha!
But he lowers it right away, being the gentleman he pretends to be. Fuck.
The whole thing is driving me insane.
I thought he was attracted to me. He certainly was attracted to me the few times we had sex. He even said he can’t resist me.
It obviously changed because he sure as hell can resist me now.
Is it weird I’m obsessed with it? Probably.
But sex is power. People wanting to have sex with you gives you power. And I like it.
Right now, it seems he has more of it and it’s unacceptable to me. I need to take it back.
