Amanda's Mission

He hadn't said anything. Instead, Amanda watched as Alex placed the white mug with black writing on the counter, stare at it for a moment, then walk silently out of the kitchen. Which, to Amanda, made him all the more mysterious, all the more alluring.

Amanda had never considered Alex as a potential love interest. Honestly, she wasn't the type to consider anyone as a love interest, really. Asexual. That was the word she used to describe herself. She was a woman, but she never really felt the need to chase after romance. Her life was a life without the trappings of relationship stress, without having to make herself conform to the image of what a woman _should _look like. Blue jeans, baggy sweaters, old sneakers. She couldn't remember the last time she got a haircut, and her house contained not one piece of make-up.

It was a happy life.

But if someone was the World's Best Lay, well that was something special.

She contemplated the mug. Someone wouldn't just buy that for a person if it wasn't true, would they? It was one thing to say something to someone, but another thing to actually go out and put it on a mug. A mug _meant _something.

She licked her lips, enjoying the taste of her lipstick. Sultry Violet, that had been the colour she had chosen that morning. A bit more daring than she usually used at work, a bit more dramatic, but she had been in a dramatic mood this morning. She'd always been the type of girl who wanted the best, and lipstick was no exception. How many tubes did she own? How many times had she splurged when new colours came out? Too many to count.

Maybe it was a game. A tease. A flirt. If someone _was _the World's Best Lay, they probably wouldn't be the World's Easiest Lay. They'd make you work for it. Amanda reached out with her well-manicured left hand and picked up the mug. She wouldn't keep it. Amanda knew she was a good lay, maybe even a great lay, but the world's best? No, that was a designation you earned, you were given. You don't just give that to yourself.

Sweeping her long, beautiful golden hair behind her shoulders, Amanda decided what she had to do. There was no way she would be able to work so closely to a man who, in all likelihood was the World's Best Lay, and not know for sure. She would have to find out, first hand. The mug was a clue, a lure. Alex had obviously left it there so that she could return it to him. Return it to him, and maybe even get a reward. That had to be his plan.

Smiling one of her famous mischievous smiles, Amanda gave her tight grey pencil skirt a tug, made sure her sizable cleavage was well on display in her black top, and swayed on her high heeled shoes out of the room back to the cubical farm. She was feeling good, confident, sexual. Nothing out of the ordinary for her, only this time, she felt like she was on a mission.