I was taking quick peaks over my shoulders in each direction outside my cubicle walls between feverish strokes of makeup that I hadn't had time to apply before I left my apartment this morning. Another late night had left me short on sleep and thus short on time.
Once I realized I'd turned off my alarm in a half-asleep still-buzzed daze, it was a mad dash to spray my wild wavy locks with dry shampoo and run fingers through the tangles, pulling on my already sore scalp. From my closet, I dug out a plain black pencil skirt and a flowery, butt-ugly, blouse I wear only to work. I'd thrown on a bra but couldn't find any clean panties. Fuck it, I thought. Going to work commando ranked pretty low on my shame meter these days.
I put on deodorant and gave myself a wet wipe bird bath as I swished mouthwash, hoping not to smell like sex, tequila, and cigarettes by time I got to work. A glance at the clock showed I had forty-five minutes to get to my office, an hour's commute away. I'd just speed like a maniac the whole drive there. I grimly snorted a laugh to myself because it's not like a fatal freeway accident wouldn't solve a lot of my problems. I spat the mouthwash, wiggled my fat ass and hips into my stretchy pencil skirt, tucked my blouse into the high waist and puffed it out to be billowy and maybe hide my unsmooth belly. There was nothing I could do about my belly pouch that kept my skirt from laying flat, but whatever – I could hide behind my cube all day and it didn't really matter at work.
Funny how I needed to psych myself up to go to work in perfectly appropriate office attire because it might put my flaws on focus -- but being stark naked with strangers was totally fine. It's amazing the difference that dark of night, booze, and a liberal dose of self-hatred can make in what you'll allow to happen to your body.
So, there I was, at my cube, a mirror propped up on my scanner. I'd just finished my face, brows, eyes, and was mid-stroke of some lipstick when -- too late -- I heard a footstep and a soft, but masculine throat-clearing behind me. I quickly placed the wand back into the tube of liquid lipstick and spun around in my chair.
Not that I was a social employee, more of the type to show up and do my work, then leave – but I'd really never seen this man before. He was dressed so much nicer than the typical office troll. Hell, he was more handsome than any man in the entire building that I'd ever talked to. The man was an Adonis in business wear. He wore crisp, dark gray slacks, a button-down shirt that was almost imperceptibly lavender. A lesser observer might think the shirt was white. The crisp starkness of this clothing outlined the hard lines of his body that I instantly compared to my own and felt immediately self-conscious.
Thoughts raced through my head a million miles per hour, and I couldn't make any real words come out of my slack-jawed face hole. God, I must have looked like an absolute idiot. Think Kevin from The Office in female form. With an arched black eyebrow on his beautifully masculine, swarthy-toned face, he spoke first.
“Do you always do your personal care routine at your desk instead of your bathroom vanity?”
Something about the tone and timber of his voice left goosebumps on my skin. I was so primed after the night I'd had, I was glad I'd thrown on a padded bra in my rush this morning because this blouse would have been sheer enough to betray my hard nipples. The scent of his cologne and the tie he wore had my brain replaying unwelcome flashbacks to the night before – my wrists tied painfully together with a thin strip of silky material, and attached to the headboard of a stranger's bed. The back of my bare body had been mercilessly exposed to the lashing of a lifetime. From the sounds and sensations, I'd bet anything that it had been a necktie and a belt. Much like the necktie and belt I was now staring at from my desk chair. Good god, he was tall.
“Ah... I'm sorry, I was in a rush to get here on time so I figured I'd put on my lipstick at my desk,” I said, quieter than my normal volume. “Can I help you? I'm sorry ,I don't think we've met.”
“Well, you might as well have taken your time, Miss Landry, since you're late anyway.” I shrunk under his piercing stare and he continued, “It is Friday the fifteenth. You were to be here a half-hour early along with everyone else to meet the new department head.”
I gasped and stood so fast my desk chair went spinning behind me, loudly crashing into the corner of my desk.
“Oh shit. Shit!. What time is it? Oh my god. Thank you so much for coming to get me,” I spit out with a rushed breath. “See you in there.”
I ducked past him and speed-walked to the conference room.