“Way to kill the mood, Jack,” she teased. “Freeman isn’t my idea of foreplay.”
“Well there went my plans. I was going to seduce you with a plaid tie and a bald spot. Good thing I hadn’t shaved the top of my hair off yet.”
“Don’t you dare!” she laughed. “Invoking the groper is the anti-aphrodisiac, Jack.”
“I’ll have to work on a new fantasy then,” he said. “Any preferences?”
“You. Just you. Anywhere. Any way,” Britt admitted.
“Any way? So on a bed of cabbage leaves, surrounded by caterpillars?”
“Yuck! You’re creative in the bad way. That’s an image I didn’t want in my mind.”
“What about covered in sushi? Or hotel shampoo?”
“Actually my high school fantasy was to have a guy rub Bath and Body Works Plumeria lotion all over my body.”
“Any guy or one in particular?” he teased.
“Justin Timberlake, okay? He could bring sexy back for me anytime!” she laughed, hand over her mouth.
“That is one racy fantasy, there, Britt. You and some whitebread boy band singer and flowery lotion. Wild shit.”
“I know! But you can’t imagine how much I thought of that.”
“I’m concerned though. First of all, I’m not nearly blond enough to fulfill that fantasy and I’ll have to change my music stylistically. But my real concern is, if that had ever come true and you and old JT got down with the Plumeria, what if he called your name and you wondered if he was thinking of Britney Spears?”
“You’re giving me credit for thinking the scenario through logically. I was fifteen. All I was interested in was the basics.”
“So you seem to have loosened up about talking to me at work. My question is, how many people overheard that and how many of them are going to get you plumeria lotion as a gag gift tomorrow?”
“Shut up,” she said, head popping up over the partitions of her cube and looking left and right for eavesdroppers. “I think I’m safe. Everyone’s deeply engrossed in their paperwork.”
“Call me when you get home, okay?”
“It’ll be six in the morning where you are. You’ll be asleep.”
“So wake me up. I’d rather be with you than not with you.”
“I’ll call you,” she said. “Bye.”
Britt spent the rest of the day distracted, humming to herself happily. As soon as the clock rolled over to five, she was on her way to the parking lot and hopping in the Nissan. The Nissan that had been the setting for one of her more recent and decidedly more mature fantasies...involving Jack but with no Plumeria lotion in sight.
Back in her apartment, she kicked off her shoes, poured herself a glass of red and dialed him up.
“Hey, Jack,” she said in what she hoped was a sexy voice.
“Good morning, Britt.”
“It’s nighttime here.”
“Okay, good night. My internal clock is so screwed up. By the time I get it straightened out, it’ll be time to fly home and change times again.”
“I can’t wait until you get back. I promised you some kick ass margaritas.”
“I don’t drink margaritas.”
“I’ll buy you a whiskey sour, then.”