her own office, she circled the desk and gave me a tight side-hug. She kissed the top of my head and said, "I hope you know what you're doing."
"Me, too." I closed my eyes and returned Rachel's awkward hug as best I could. She was a good friend and I appreciated her concern. I just didn't want to talk about this.
"Okay ." She squeezed me extra hard then let go. "To work." With that, she left me in peace.
I took my first real breath of the day. With the big “talk” out of the way, I could finally relax. Or at least I could until I scanned the list of names in my inbox and saw Luca's pop up at the top of the list.
"Shit." I wiped my suddenly sweaty palms against my pant legs and took a deep breath. Did I really want to see what he had to say? Even if my brain hadn't committed to the action, my finger was all in. I clicked to open the email.
Mari,
Saturday was. . .wow. Again?
Luca
Yes, please! Six words and I was seriously panting. His effect on my body, even by proxy, was unreal. Hell, yes I wanted to see him again. Right now. But I refused to let a booty call disrupt my ability to earn a living. Seeing him during the week would destroy me. I'd be a blissfully happy, completely sated, and totally broke in a matter of weeks. That's the thing about owning a business. In order to continue owning it, work has to be done. Folks don't want to pay their caterer to fuck someone on her desk all day long.
I kept my response as brief as his message.
Luca,
Yes, please. When?
Mari
My finger hovered over the send button, apparently not as eager to respond as it was to find out what Luca had to say. Maybe I sounded too eager. I re-read the message. Five words could hardly be considered over the top. Ultimately, I removed the please and sent the message as simply Yes. When?
It was weird. Prior to actually meeting in person, we sent each other very detailed emails about what we liked and didn't like. I expanded at length, without reservation. Simply put, he was easier to talk to before we fucked. I wondered what that meant.
He didn't respond until later that afternoon. By that point, I was officially going out of my mind. I'd endured a second, far more thorough grilling from Rachel, and survived a phone call/inquisition from my mother.
Luca's second email was as short as the first. Maybe he was finding it just as hard as me to talk post-orgasmic bliss.
Mari,
Saturday? 8pm? My place?
Luca
I was simultaneously pleased and pissed. I was going to insist on Saturday because anything earlier would derail my entire week. But I wasn't at all happy that Luca was satisfied with waiting that long. I was already feeling the separation. I wanted him to feel just as desperate.
My response was even briefer.
Perfect.
After I hit send, I panicked. I had just agreed to go to Luca's house, not a hotel. Neutral ground was part of our agreement. We'd only met once and we were both already willing to compromise on a point that had previously been a deal breaker.
Shit.
#
I popped a frozen meal into the microwave and pushed the button. It was only Wednesday, and the week had kicked my ass to the point that I didn't care if my dinner consisted of irradiated, pre-packaged, frozen food. People pay me a ridiculous amount of money because I'm a kick -ass chef, but even kick-ass chefs occasionally hit their limit for chopping and dicing and marinating.
"So, we're okay moving the Guthman wedding to the 19th?" Rachel's voice spoke to me through the speaker on my phone. I was sorely tempted to hit the disconnect button and blame it on my cell carrier. I was done with the day.
"Mari? Are you there?" She spoke just a little louder and her electronically modulated voice came close to overriding the knowledge that I love her. She's my best friend and her voice made me want to punch a wall. I needed a break from work. In fairness, she was just as tired. She had the same day I did.
"Yeah,