13
Ryan
Finally,lunchtime. While I waited for the elevator that would take me from my office floor down to the main floor, I pulled out my phone and smiled at the two texts from Russell.
Russell: I hope you’re having a great day at work, my boy. I look forward to hearing from you at lunch.
Russell: I think I’m more eager for your lunch than you are. I love you, Ryan.
I kept my phone in my hand as I entered the elevator with two other co-workers. To avoid small talk, I kept my focus on the phone and moved my thumb around haphazardly to make it look like I was deeply involved with something. And really, I was. Staring at Russell’s texts was the highlight of the time while I had been at work.
When the elevator stopped on the main floor and the doors opened, I let the others get out first. I slowly made my way towards the café where I always ate lunch and typed my response with one hand as I walked.
Ryan: I just made it to the main floor and am on my way to the café.
Russell: What are you craving for lunch?
I smiled at his text and thought about being playful with him. I think he’d like it. No, he would like it.
Ryan: You.
Russell: Any idea what you’re going to get today?
Every few feet I would look up from my phone as I kept texting with Russell. This had become our routine; text to briefly catch up on our day as I walked to the café for lunch. I loved the fact that I always had a text from him to greet me when I took my cell phone out from my desk before lunch.
Ryan: I think I’m going to have the bacon burger today.
“Ryan,” a woman’s voice called my name.
I stopped and looked in the direction that the woman’s voice came from. I figured that it would be someone from maybe the front desk area or even the money cage. I was expecting to see anyone with a hotel name badge or in uniform.
Anyone, but her.
Claire.
She was here…at my work.
She wore a white t-shirt with a deep v-neck, tight jeans and black strappy heels. Claire dropped her phone into her oversized designer bag and strutted towards me. She held out her hand for me to shake, but I stared at her lavender painted nails for a moment before taking hold of her hand.
“I don’t think we have officially met—” she began.
“I know who you are,” I informed her.
She arched her eyebrows at me as she tapped the earpiece of her sunglasses against her front teeth.
“My, my, my. You are a naughty little thing. You must give Daddy Russell a terrible time. He must spank that bottom all of the time,” she taunted.
Before I opened my mouth, I reminded myself that I was at work, wearing a nametag, and under thousands of eyes in the ceiling. I took a slow, deep breath before speaking.
“I know who you are,” I repeated.
“That’s doubtful.”
“Is there something that I may help you with? May I provide you with any directions?”
I used my customer service training for the casino floor on her. Fucking bitch.
“Yes, I would love to have lunch with you…boy,” she professed with a shit eating grin.
