Being Me (BBW Romance) (3 page)

My embarrassment didn't go unnoticed. Delilah walked by with Stacy, and they stopped at the entrance to my cubicle. I'd been foolish enough to still have my face turned that way, and they stared at my beet-red face. Delilah was the first one to insult the English language by speaking. "Eat a hot pepper or something?" she teased me.

"Or maybe Mr. Dunner told her she had to lose weight," Stacy added.

Usually sweet little ol' me would reply to their stupid suggestions by turning my back on them. Right then, though, spitfire Mitsy was in control, and she was having none of that. My head snapped up and I glared at both of them. My red face added to my ferocity as war paint of fury. "Why don't you two just knock it off and get back to work for once?" Not exactly the meanest insult I could have thrown at them, but for me it was downright bitchy.

The shocked looks on their faces would have been enough to make me laugh out loud if I hadn't been so surprised myself. Their mouths flopped open like kissing fish, complete with smacking lip sounds and stupid look-action. I was prepared for more of their shit, but not for their hasty retreat. Stacy pushed Delilah down the hall and out of my sight. The minute they were gone my fury deflated like a popped balloon. I was left feeling exhausted, depressed and full of regret.

That was the perfect time to go get a donut and flaunt its deliciousness in front of everyone on a diet. I'd be too busy wallowing in my own misery to notice theirs. Unfortunately, that meant a walk to the lounge on a lower floor, and it wasn't break time. Of course, with the boss unavailable until Doomsday with his interviews, I wouldn't be scolded by him. For the sake of my depression hunger, I decided to go for it.

I slipped out of my cubicle and slunk down the hall on the opposite end of the floor from Dunner's office. I rounded the corner of the square floor and saw the elevators at the far end of the new hall. I zoomed down the passage, past my coworkers hard at work on spreadsheets, reports, solitaire and mahjong. I even saw one striving to launch some mad birds at some defenseless sedentary pigs. I could relate to those little porkers as memories of high school dodge ball floated to my mind.

Where was I? Oh, right, escape from L.A., office style. I was silent in my sneaking. Well, as silent as someone my size could be. My efforts were rewarded with success, for I made it to the elevators and caught one just closing. The hard part was over, and I fetched a few delicious powdered donuts from the break room. I traveled back up to my floor and had just snuck out of the elevator when I was confronted by my arch nemesis, Alicia. She had an armload of papers in her hand which were conveniently holding up her small handheld mirror so she could check to see if her makeup was running. I'd be running if I was in any way attached to her.

"Where in the world have you been?" she interrogated me. I pulled the donuts behind my back, but it was too little too late; she saw them. Her eyes widened along with her wicked mouth. She hefted her books into one arm and glanced at her wristwatch.

I didn't wait for her to point out that I shouldn't have been away from my desk at that time. Instead I booked it down the hall before she could get me into a tight spot, maybe even try to blackmail me into doing some horrible, unspeakable thing. Or worse, giving her my donuts.

I laid low for the rest of the day, not an easy feet when you're as hard to miss as I am. Toward the end of the day the interviews were stopped before Dunner finished with the floor, probably on account of his having lost his sanity going through all those personalities. Most people in the place were normal enough, but every place of work has those odd ones where you're not sure whether to shake their hand or your head. Don't get me wrong, they weren't walking around pretending they were animals or anything like that, but some of them believed they were animals in a past life. Cat was a popular previous existence, which probably explained their lack of work ethic in this life.

Anyway, Dunner was probably exhausted, and the stress of waiting and sitting through the interviews had taken its toll on everyone on the floor. More than one person snuck out early or, like high schoolers on a Friday afternoon, ran when the clock showed the work day was over at five. I was just packing up when I heard a knock at my cubicle. I swung around and was surprised to find Dunner standing there with that smile on his face.

"Could I have a word with you before you leave?" he asked me.

I peeked my head over the walls of my prison. Everyone close by was already gone, and the elevators were opening to take the last of my coworkers away. "Um, sure, what were you wanting to talk about?"

He stepped aside and swept his arms toward his office. "I wanted to talk to you about your performance. It's a little private, so would you mind going into my office?"

The blood drained out of my face. This sounded like a firing. "Uh, all right."

I stepped out of my cubicle, but he nodded at my purse. "You might not want to leave that here. The janitors come in half an hour."

"Oh, thanks." I'd meant to leave it as an excuse to escape a long conversation, but grudgingly grabbed it.

He led me down the hall and into his office. I sat down at the usual chair, but glanced up at the ceiling. I swear the lights were dimmed down, and sure enough half of them were off. "Excuse the lights, I thought I was going home soon, too, and just remembered that I wanted to talk to you," he explained. I noticed he didn't turn them up all the way, but instead went over and sat on the corner of the desk closest to me. I leaned back in my chair as far as I could. "So do you know why I've brought you here?"

I shrank down in my chair. "Because you're going to give me a raise?" I guessed.

He leaned down toward me and his eyes caught mine with their intensity. His voice was low and sultry. "I'm afraid that's not quite what I had in mind."

My face flushed at the innuendo. I did what any sensible woman would do; I jumped up and stammered out an excuse to leave. "Um, I think I hear my cat calling me."

I swung around and dashed to the door. Dunner uttered some apology, but by that time I was out of the office and down the hall, purse clutched in my hand.

CHAPTER 3

I didn't want to wait for the elevators, so for the first time since one of my coworkers tricked me into going with them, I took the stairs. They were easy to drop down when one is in a hurry to be anywhere else, and that fit me to a T. I didn't turn around until I was in the lobby. To tell you the truth, I stopped in the lobby to catch some air. There I stood, huffing and puffing like the last dinosaur wondering what in the world just happened to me.

My mind was a swirling mass of thoughts half-starved of oxygen and very confused. I replayed what he'd said to me in the office, and the pit of my stomach suddenly hurt. Maybe he
hadn't
been meaning what I thought he'd been meaning. Maybe he had wanted to fire me, or perhaps even give me a better position. I glanced at the elevators behind me. They tempted me to go back up there and risk his strange eyes to find out what he
had
meant by those words.

"No," I wheezed out. I wasn't ready, not right now. Maybe after a night's rest, preceeded by a lot of glasses of wine and chocolate.

Then that was the plan; I'd get some sleep and face my cowardice in the morning, fresh and ready for, well, for whatever was going to happen. With my decision made, I scrammed out of there faster than a drunk to a call of beers on the house. I made it back, and was greeted by my cat's demands for food and worship. The meal was provided, but my mind was too high-strung to give much thought to pettings that night. All I could do was slink onto the couch with my promised bottle of port and box of chocolates, and wonder what in the world happened in that office. The bottle disappeared with each indecisive thought, which meant I skipped the glass and just popped the cork.

His words were spoken in such a lustful voice that I was sure I'd read him right. He'd been writing a love story of him and me, and the scene would have taken place right in that office. Then again, there was that large voice in the back of my head telling me I'd just been hearing things out of my own lack of sexual escapades for a good many years. Maybe I was desperate; maybe I had been hearing what I wanted to hear.

Maybe there really was someone knocking at my door.

Actually, there really
was
somebody at the entrance to my domain. I jumped up off the couch, and was struck with how much time had passed and alcohol I'd imbibed during that time. I also struck the coffee table with my leg because I was so tipsy I couldn't walk straight. My eyes were so crossed that I could have been made into a road intersection. The banging continued, and I was reminded of that Poe story about the black bird always pecking at the window. Maybe it was a little birdy at my door wanting in from a cold winter's night.

Two problems with that: I wasn't in a Poe story, it was Fall, and I was so drunk I couldn't count right. The pounding at my door grew louder and louder while the thumping on my leg grew worse and worse. "I'm coming!" I shouted to my unexpected visitor.

I stumbled my way over to the door and looked through the peephole. At least, I tried to look through the peephole. The damn thing kept swinging from side to side, so I gave up and just flung open the door. The person on the other side wasn't expecting that, and I wasn't expecting the person to be Dunner. My mouth fell open while on his face was a look of surprise.

"Um, is this a bad time?" he asked me.

"Oh, no, I was just, um, just drinking, er, thinking about stuff," I replied in my best slurred speech.

He glanced down at my hand and pointed at it. "The whole bottle?" he wondered. I followed his pointer finger and realized I was holding the empty wine bottle in my hand. I swung it behind my back, which sent all of me toppling backward onto the floor. He jumped inside and knelt down beside me. "You okay?"

I sat up and rubbed the back of my head. A knot the size of a goose egg was growing back there. "I've been better," I grumbled, and glanced at him. Some of the drink haze wore off with the slam to my head and I started thinking again. "But what are you doing here?
How
are you here?"

Dunner smiled. "I came to see if you were okay, and I came by car."

I frowned at his sassiness. I was the only one allowed to be sassy in my apartment. "I meant how did you find this place? I never told you where I lived."

"I have your personnel file, remember? Now let's get you off this hard floor and onto the couch. Looks pretty comfortable." I grudgingly let him help me up and over to said comfy couch, where I plopped down onto one of the comfy cushions. He took another one, and that left one last cushion between us. Mr. Perkins took that one, and the little traitor started purring the minute Dunner's hand started petting his back. "I think he likes me," Dunner pointed out with a laugh.

"Yeah, well, he'll take anybody who will give him a free rub," I replied.

Dunner glanced up from the fiendish feline and to me. "So what was with the bottle?" He noticed the box of chocolates on the table, and nodded at them. "And that?"

I didn't feel like expressing my deepest concerns to a stranger and a boss, so went with the usual lie. "This is my usual treat every night. Drinking and eating chocolate." I opened the box and popped one into my mouth. The damn thing got stuck against the roof of my mouth, and it didn't help that Dunner was watching me very carefully. He also had that funny look in his eyes, the one he'd had in the office right before I'd made like a sprinter and dashed. "What?" I garbled through the stuck chocolate. "I got something on my face?"

"Well, not particularly, but it is a nice face," he complimented. His eyes wandered down from my face while my blush wandered up. "I must say the rest of you isn't too bad, either."

I shifted back away from him and nearly fell over the arm of the couch. "Um, yeah, okay. Well, you look nice, too, but I'm sure you're a busy man and need to run off to some fancy restaurant to eat snails and little fish."

He chuckled and pulled his legs up onto the couch so he could climb toward me. The way he was slinking over to me made me feel like prey to his predator. That kind of turned me on, particularly since his body moved in such a lithe, attractive manner. Heat pooled between my legs, which I promptly snapped shut and used my arms to lean farther over the arm of the couch. Half my body was suspended in midair, and he just kept on coming.

When he spoke up, his voice was low, soft, soothing. He was trying to woo me, and my body was trying its best to oblige. "You know, some men like thin women, some even like other men." He was at the end the couch and placed his hands on both sides of me. I was locked between his arms with him leaning over me. His legs entwined around mine, and he leaned in close so that our lips almost touched. "Me? I like a bit of meat on mine."

And that's when I really did fall over the arm of the couch, and he went with me. We toppled to the floor in a heap of squirming limbs and my complaints. I managed to roll my way out of the mess, but he stood up while I still sat on my butt trying to figure out what just happened. Mr. Perkins stood hissing and growling behind the couch like bad background music to a comedy.

He had a sheepish grin on his face. "Sorry about that. I guess I got carried away."