The Meeting where things *actually* get done

“So the question is, how the hell did this Russian chick get involved with Rashid?” Dayana mused.

We were down in her office. The meeting had come to a close with a whimper compared to how it started, and we’d made our escape while Tracy looked like was ready to reopen the budget issue with Doug right there in the conference room. Dayana had given me another wink and asked me how long I needed, and I’d told thirty minutes. Those thirty minutes were for me to check my emails, get my notes together, and come meet her in her office like I did every Monday for our own, much more productive meeting.

Of course, because we were productive since we were both good at our jobs and had developed a shorthand and rhythm over the years, we also had time to gossip just a little.

I grunted softly and shook my head. “Have you Googled her yet?”

Dayana closed her eyes and planted her palm on her forehead, making me chuckle. “Yes, I Googled her,” she smirked as she reached for her coffee. It was likely her third of the morning. “Nothing came up in the first couple of page results.”

“Well, I guess we’ll have to find out the old-fashioned way,” I said.

“By eavesdropping and getting housekeeping to snoop through her shit?” she chuckled.

“I was going to say ask her, but sure,” I snorted.

“I guess we can do it your way,” she smirked, setting down her coffee cup and stretching before rolling her neck. “OK, talk to me about your vacation. I need to dream of something other than this place for a minute.”

And this was the moment I was worried about.

“It was good,” I said. “Lots of cool people, scenery was gorgeous. Cass got some good work done.”

“Pictures?” Dayana asked, gesturing for me to provide my phone.

“Cass has them all, I was pretty off-phone the whole time,” I said honestly. I also didn’t need Dayana looking at the few pictures I did have when one of the girls was texting me. They all knew I was at work so I doubted I’d get anything spicy, but needing to own up to why some other woman was sending me hearts or ‘Love You’ texts wasn’t on my list of a fun time.

“That’s fine,” Dayana said, narrowing her eyes at me as she leaned back in her chair and looked me up and down suspiciously. “So what aren’t you telling me?”

“I mean, a lot?” I laughed, trying to make it sound casual. “We were gone for a week, there’s plenty of details.”

“No, you’re hiding something,” she guessed, sitting up and then leaning forward as she steepled her fingers and rested her elbows on her desk. “Something happened.”

I shrugged, keeping my lips sealed.

“Bah, fine,” she said, waving dismissively before slowly developing a smirk. “I’ll just ask Cassidy.”

“Go for it,” I said, shaking my head and smirking back.

She narrowed her eyes again, trying to read me like we were across a poker table. Finally, she huffed and crossed her arms as she sat back.

And that was the moment my brain went, ‘Uh-oh.’

Because I’d always known that Dayana was hot. Beautiful, especially when she made the extra effort to dress up to mesh with a high-end event she was helping manage. We’d hosted a 700-head fundraiser once in the Ballroom and when I’d shown Cassidy the staff pictures we took at the start and end of the night she’d shit a brick at how gorgeous Dayana had looked in the red dress with her hair done up wavy and long and her makeup on the slightly dramatic side. Dayana had a darker South American skin tone and cute, Latina features that combined with her thin figure to give her the ability to be a bit of a chameleon depending on her clothes.

The thing was, my brain was wired for Cassidy. Both because of my love and commitment to her, but also quite probably because of the reinforcement of the App - not that I would have thought about cheating on her before the whole revelation, but between my relationship and a ‘Don’t shit where you eat’ attitude I’d never even really fantasised about Dayana. I’d always assumed that we had a good friendship and a good working relationship where she often ran into issues with same-level or higher coworkers because of her attractiveness because I was perfectly happy and had no reason to flirt.

But she huffed. And it was hard to describe what my brain did with that noise. It was playful, a little silly, and mildly annoyed. But annoyed was at the back of that list, and the playful and silly were at the front. And after a week of flirting with women almost constantly, I heard it for what it… might have been. A flirty huff.

And she leaned back and crossed her arms, but the way she did it subtly lifted her small breasts. She wasn’t wearing anything revealing, just a regular office-appropriate button-down blouse and slacks, but the way she did it pushed a hint of cleavage into view at the V of her collar.

And she looked at me and I thought maybe I saw something I hadn’t been looking for before. Something I’d seen in eyes other than Cassidy’s over the last week.

Interest. Maybe a little bit of… hunger.

“Alright, let’s go for a walk, yeah?” she said. “I can show you the damage those fireworks painted up the side of the building. Walt, that pajúo, he really did a number with his güebón deal.”

“Sure,” I said, trying to figure out a way to stop thinking of how Dayana would look underneath me as I fucked her. How her lips would curl, her eyes would glimmer. How she would speak in different languages in my ear, begging for-

The point was to stop thinking about her sexually. Preferably like it had never started to begin with.

“Come on,” she said as she smirked and led me out of her office. “You are going to laugh your ass off.”

I tried very hard not to look down at her ass in those slacks and judge whether she was working her hips a little extra or not.

Because she wasn’t, and wouldn’t.

Don’t shit where you eat!

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