Stay on task

Much as you would love to refuel at the coffee machine and maybe get in some guy-watching time, you need to finish these spreadsheets. You can't afford to lose this job. You hunt in the bottom drawer of your desk and come up with one of those little energy shots. It tastes too sweet, but in no time you feel a little zip and are able to focus in on the spreadsheets. Yikes, there are so many of them and Haley has half the numbers wrong. You put on your reading glasses and start poring over the accounting hard copy.

After double checking her work you discover more problems. Before you're even done correcting her mistakes you realize it's almost noon. There is a knock at the door frame and you are surprised to see it's John Rodriguez.

You dated John before you met your husband. Just a few dates, but things got pretty hot and heavy and John has been avoiding you ever since you broke up. You hardly even see him around the office. Standing there, bathed in the golden light of your desk lamp, he looks absolutely hot. He's lost the goatee and frosted tips he had when you dated and it looks like he might have put on a tiny bit of weight, but he's still tall, dark and handsome. He smiles and shows off the dimples you remember lying next to him in his apartment. The memory sends a thrill up your thigh.

"Hey, Becky," he says. "I heard Perry has been dumping on you after last month's numbers."

"Yeah," you put down your pen. "That wasn't my fault, but with Ralph on vacation I am the most senior accountant."

He takes your reply as an invitation and steps into your office. "I couldn't do what you do with numbers. I am horrible at math."

"So you came by after years of ignoring me to commiserate?" You arch an eyebrow and peer up at him over the frames of your reading glasses.

"You always looked good in glasses," he says, almost dreamily. His eyes bug out for a moment and he seems to realize he overstepped. "I, ah, came to see if you wanted to go to lunch."

"With a married man?"

"You're a married woman. Besides, I just mean as friends. A couple of friends can have lunch. We can go to Peachtree's and share some war stories."

"Mhmmm." You take off your reading glasses and set them atop the stack of papers. The last thing you want to do is talk about work. You had planned on plowing through lunch with just a stop at the vending machines. On the other hand, your stomach is rumbling, and pretzels and a soda hardly seems adequate. Peachtree's is nearby.

John smiles at you expectantly. Those big, brown eyes are tearing down your defenses. You want to go out and flirt with him until his knees are trembling to remind him of what he's been missing all these years.

"Come on, we can ride together. Sound good?"