gulps from the can before turning and acting as if I were seeing her for the first time. “Hi, Alisha.”
She sniffed, but didn't respond.
Why was she ignoring me? Damn, did she think I'd joined the rest of those knuckleheads making fun of her? To my surprise it bothered me that she might think I’d said unkind things about her behind her back. I tried again. “Hi, Alicia.”
She sucked in a breath and finally answered. “Hi, Craig.”
I sighed. Tears did nothing to improve her nondescript looks. I almost changed my mind, but I told myself one afternoon wouldn’t kill me. And it might make amends for what she'd obviously heard said about her. “Going to the picnic next weekend?”
She gave me a hurt look that strengthened my resolve. “No!”
She spat the word out as if the company picnic was the last place she wanted to be.
“Why not?”
And she gave me a cool look. “You know why.”
Of course, I knew why, but it wouldn’t do to admit it. “No, I don’t.”
She shrugged. “No one’s asked me, not that I want to go anywhere with any of those so-called men on the floor.”
Well, damn. She had a temper. Who knew? I didn't admit it then, but looking back, I realized her slight show of spirit intrigued me. That and the sudden realization that she had a nice rack. It wasn't overly large or perfectly shaped like the store-bought brand but it was nonetheless pretty nice. A man with the ability to look beyond surface beauty could spend many a happy hour with his lips wrapped around one of those babies.
Trying to appear casual, I gave her a quick assessment. She was a few inches above average height which is to say she was about 5’5’’ or 5’6”. She wasn't fat. But she also wasn't bone thin. Cuddling with her might not be too much of a trial. And not every woman could be supermodel pretty.
And though women had always seemed to find my wavy dark hair and blue eyes attractive I wasn't exactly George Clooney. But I kept myself in shape, I wasn’t ugly, and I've never had a problem getting the woman of my choice to go out with me.
“What a coincidence, Alisha. No one’s asked me, either.” I shrugged, trying to look casual. “Maybe we could go together?”
She turned those dark beautiful eyes of yours on me. “Me and you? You mean on a date?”
I was annoyed by her attitude and the tone she asked the question in. I didn't stutter and I didn't think she was hard of hearing. So why did she have to sit there looking like little red riding hood being asked out by the big, bad wolf? Didn’t she have any of the wiles that were so enticing in a woman?
“To the company picnic,” I said slowly, hoping she understood that was as far as the invitation went. “It’s more fun if you go with someone, don’t you think?”
She shook her head. “I’ve never gone.”
“No? It can be fun—if you have a partner. Why don’t we go together?”
She shook her head. “Thanks, but no thanks.”
I stared at her, wondering what the hell had possessed me to ask her in the first place. She didn't want to go out with me? Fine! I hadn't really wanted to go out with her either. I'd done my Boy Scout routine and had it thrown back in my face. No more Mr. Nice Guy for me.
“Suit yourself.” I finished the soda and looked gratefully at my watch. “I’d better get back to work.” And to sanity, which did not include asking Alisha out ever again. I stormed towards the door.
Before I reached it, she called out to me. “Craig?”
I stopped and turned slowly. I gave her a cold look. “What?” I knew I didn't sound very pleasant but at that point, I didn't care. I’d had my efforts to be kind thrown back in my face and it pissed me off.
“I'm sorry,” she said. “I shouldn't have taken out what they said on you.”
That must mean she knew I hadn't been involved. Strangely, knowing that dissolved some of my anger. But I was not mellow enough to extend the invitation again.
I nodded curtly and remained
She sniffed, but didn't respond.
Why was she ignoring me? Damn, did she think I'd joined the rest of those knuckleheads making fun of her? To my surprise it bothered me that she might think I’d said unkind things about her behind her back. I tried again. “Hi, Alicia.”
She sucked in a breath and finally answered. “Hi, Craig.”
I sighed. Tears did nothing to improve her nondescript looks. I almost changed my mind, but I told myself one afternoon wouldn’t kill me. And it might make amends for what she'd obviously heard said about her. “Going to the picnic next weekend?”
She gave me a hurt look that strengthened my resolve. “No!”
She spat the word out as if the company picnic was the last place she wanted to be.
“Why not?”
And she gave me a cool look. “You know why.”
Of course, I knew why, but it wouldn’t do to admit it. “No, I don’t.”
She shrugged. “No one’s asked me, not that I want to go anywhere with any of those so-called men on the floor.”
Well, damn. She had a temper. Who knew? I didn't admit it then, but looking back, I realized her slight show of spirit intrigued me. That and the sudden realization that she had a nice rack. It wasn't overly large or perfectly shaped like the store-bought brand but it was nonetheless pretty nice. A man with the ability to look beyond surface beauty could spend many a happy hour with his lips wrapped around one of those babies.
Trying to appear casual, I gave her a quick assessment. She was a few inches above average height which is to say she was about 5’5’’ or 5’6”. She wasn't fat. But she also wasn't bone thin. Cuddling with her might not be too much of a trial. And not every woman could be supermodel pretty.
And though women had always seemed to find my wavy dark hair and blue eyes attractive I wasn't exactly George Clooney. But I kept myself in shape, I wasn’t ugly, and I've never had a problem getting the woman of my choice to go out with me.
“What a coincidence, Alisha. No one’s asked me, either.” I shrugged, trying to look casual. “Maybe we could go together?”
She turned those dark beautiful eyes of yours on me. “Me and you? You mean on a date?”
I was annoyed by her attitude and the tone she asked the question in. I didn't stutter and I didn't think she was hard of hearing. So why did she have to sit there looking like little red riding hood being asked out by the big, bad wolf? Didn’t she have any of the wiles that were so enticing in a woman?
“To the company picnic,” I said slowly, hoping she understood that was as far as the invitation went. “It’s more fun if you go with someone, don’t you think?”
She shook her head. “I’ve never gone.”
“No? It can be fun—if you have a partner. Why don’t we go together?”
She shook her head. “Thanks, but no thanks.”
I stared at her, wondering what the hell had possessed me to ask her in the first place. She didn't want to go out with me? Fine! I hadn't really wanted to go out with her either. I'd done my Boy Scout routine and had it thrown back in my face. No more Mr. Nice Guy for me.
“Suit yourself.” I finished the soda and looked gratefully at my watch. “I’d better get back to work.” And to sanity, which did not include asking Alisha out ever again. I stormed towards the door.
Before I reached it, she called out to me. “Craig?”
I stopped and turned slowly. I gave her a cold look. “What?” I knew I didn't sound very pleasant but at that point, I didn't care. I’d had my efforts to be kind thrown back in my face and it pissed me off.
“I'm sorry,” she said. “I shouldn't have taken out what they said on you.”
That must mean she knew I hadn't been involved. Strangely, knowing that dissolved some of my anger. But I was not mellow enough to extend the invitation again.
I nodded curtly and remained
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