My eyes are closed, but I can feel him approach the side of my hospital bed. Even in the fog of pain, sleep, and hospital beeps, the fog clears in my mind for a second, and I understand. Him. The one I had seen twice in my dreams, the angel of death, Azraeel.

"Do not bother to wear the face of my ancestors, malak ul mauth. I know it is you" I say. My voice is frail, ragged. My son, R, is close, but so so far. He is leaning toward me, speaking, but my ears can no longer hear in this realm.

I feel the presence next to me startle. My eyes are open, but he is in the dark, and I still cannot see. The veil. He gives a resigned sigh, and steps forward. My eyes widen. So good looking. But eerie. Silent. Other worldly. His black eyes unnatural, his hair unmoving. I am about to open my mouth and state that he lose the ruse, but he holds up a hand "You are not worthy of viewing the real me, bani adam. That is reserved for the nabuat." I bow my head in acknowledgement.  

He hesitates before speaking. How many souls is he reaping right now. He inclines his head, as if he hears my thoughts. His fake eyes, they are black windows into a vast space. "Where would you like to go" he asks. 

Heaven? Hell? Why ask me? "I am but a mortal. How can I decide what is is the decision of al Hakam" 

His voice - the voice of a 1000 voices - says again, with more weight so my entire realm shakes and my lungs squeeze with tremendous pressure. "Where would you like to go". It does not seem to be a question he asks many. 

I remember my friend N's mother. She had asked to go see all her friends, and had come to see me. And she had dreamed of flying to Makkah before then. Who would I like to go see? I see a vast cosmos, interconnected blue lines in a black vacuum, connecting me and everyone I know. Interesting. Looks like Einstein's theory of general relativity. Which means...

The grid goes not only sideways on two axis, but backward and forward in time as well. Can I branch out to people my ancestors knew? What dimension is up and down? I have it. "Take me back. To when my life was not full of pain"

His dead eyes, the ones that betray his unnatural lack of humanity, burn towards me. I feel more than see his pity. It is an unusual request. "Would you like me to take you to your childhood" we are standing next to me on the road outside my home in Karachi. I am in my pink skirt, the one my mother said was pretty. I am on my pink bike, the one with the gears. I am fearless. I am riding, it is early evening, the wind in my hair, as I zip down the road, my heart soaring with happiness. My mother stands behind me. Ami. I think. An ancient word, back from the womb. But she is too still. I am as high as her tummy, but I know this one isn't as soft as the dubbleroti doughlike softest blanket I used to put my head on and sleep, the noises from inside unbearably soothing. This being behind me wearing the body of my mother exudes too much stillness. For a moment I want give in. I am lying down in between my parents in our bed. The happiest, safest, most loved I have ever felt in my life. "Come with us" they say, pulling my arm. But it is too wrong. Their voices hold too much power. It speaks of the cosmos and eternity.

"No. Take me to the beginning". 

We are sitting in a Dunkin Donuts. We are 23. I am so much in love. We don't even notice how close we are sitting, the side eyes we are getting. The coffee boys behind the counter, not much older than us, smirking and mentally high fiving Z. He's nonchalantly chomping down on a coffee stirrer, his attention fully on me. I'm wearing that FM89 flood relief bracelet I just bought. He touches my arm with one finger, and the contact electrifies me, and I can feel it across time and space.

"Why do you cry al ans" he asks, curiously. I notice I have wet cheeks, salty tears dripping down my face even in this incorporeal realm. 

"This does not cause happiness. This causes deep bitterness. Whatever made me happy, I lost it all. It became my greatest and deepest sources of pain. These highs all twisted and corrupted eventually to lows. How can you show me this."

"I can take you back" he says, and briefly the hospital beeps become louder, the sharp shooting pain in my chest comes back. R is holding my wrinkled arthritic hand. I squeeze it.

"Can I go back and live from the previous time" I ask. I had died on the operating table at 23. I did not want to go back to this present.

He stays silent, but I sense the question without him asking. What would you do differently.

I live it. Waking up. Taking a different path. Living not as I lived it, without the same mistakes. No years of corporate misery. No Z. No twisted pain and horrors. A different path. A path not taken. A path without...

I gasp. "No" I shriek. A path without R is a path not worth taking.

"Where would you like to go". he asks again.

"Take me to R. Take me to him again." 

Again he communicates with the speed of thought, without needing words. There will be a lot of pain. Are you sure. You have been granted grace, going back would mean a chance to sin again. The next time I see you, you may not get such mercy.

"I will die a thousand times, for one more second with him."

I open my eyes, the doctor is saying my name in that forceful tone they have. The one that can bring you back from the dead. "There you are Mrs. N" he is saying. his face is so young, this doctor. Younger than even R. He and the nurse are working frantically on me, putting tubes, and needles, and oxygen masks on me. "We nearly lost you there maam. You have a lung embolism, which is why you are having trouble breathing" he says kindly, his hands working frantically prodding parts of me while he directs the nurse on what to push.

"Mama" R says. He is in uniform. his chin has a shadow, dark circles under his eyes, as he holds my hand, deep concern in his eyes. 

I put my hand on his face. My beautiful beautiful boy. "I love you son. Remember, I can die happy knowing that all the best parts of me live on in you". My voice doesn't seem to work. The words are rasping out, wretched. He is crying. The doctor has gestured to the nurse to stop doing what she is doing. 

I reach out and touch Rs cheek. He takes my arm. "Come mama, it's time"

I swing my legs off the bed, and my slippers are on the road outside my childhood home. The wind is in my hair. It is maghrib time. A voice somewhere far away acknowledges that this is not R holding my hand, but I choose to believe this beautiful lie because to contemplate eternity without him is unbearable. 

I walk down the street, and the ground turns to the beach. The wet sand sucks at my bare feet, the beautiful sound of the waves calls to me. And malak ul mauth who bears the face of my child but the eyes of the empty abyss of eternity, leads me on to the end. And this time, I follow.

 

Razor's Edge

He's called me in to the conference room, and the regional CEO has flown in to arrange this charade. They both beam in an avuncular manner as I enter. Old white patriarchal men. My nemesis.

I smile through the farce of introductions. We laugh through some neutral chit chat. The flight. The weather. The traffic. The coffee comes. We are all biding our time, the reason for the meeting, an elephant in the room. A weight on my chest, crushing my breath.

A problem. I'm a problem. An expensive problem. They've invested too much into this, and need to fix me because things have gotten bad.

I grit my teeth and then wait patiently. Sure enough, once the coffee is laid down, the regional CEO exits, leaving just the two of us.

He decides to smile neutrally and lean back, and doesn't say anything. 

Oh is that how he's going to play it. I don't rise to the bait. I return the close lipped smile, and stay silent too. Deadpan. Don't fidget. Don't pull out any notepad or pen. Don't sip the coffee. Just maintain eye contact in the friendzone triangle, thinking no thoughts, letting the time calmly tick by. breathe in...1... 2... 3... 4.... 5... hold...  breathe out... 6... 7... 8... 9... 10...

He lasts 30 very long uncomfortable seconds. Three breaths. He clears his throat, and says, "Well, lets begin shall we. Why don't you tell me why you think I'm here?"

That's when I pull out my notebook, and take my time opening to the right page. "Sure!" I answer pleasantly, and then hunt for a pen and pull that out. We both watch me up cap it, and write the date on top.

When I've made him wait, look up, and start before he can say anything. "So to start I think it's fairly obvious you're here because Mr. Regional Guy feels my methods and techniques are ruffling team members the wrong way."

His left temple twitches just a bit at my directness. He doesn't deny it, just keeps steadily looking at me.

I look him dead in the eye. "However, you both know, that the things I'm doing are correct." I let that sit for a few seconds. He knows it. I know it. "I will be unpopular. People get ruffled because I'm doing things differently and they don't like it. But sometimes you need to break some eggs to make an omelet."

He sits, not saying anything. Fine.

"The ask to do this while making people like me - it's difficult. The same thing that makes me good at what to do, is the exact thing that makes me bad at being nice. And in a culture that pretty much hates women, it sometimes feels like they don't like me just because I exist outside the kitchen."

"Oh come on, it's not as bad as that" he's goaded into saying. Ok I went too far with kitchen comment. Reel it in.

I look down. Too many rooms. Too many men. Too many meetings. A lifetime of being dismissed, spoken over, considered abrasive. The same words from a man - respect. From me - uncomfortable. I don't expect him to ever understand. "I've lived and worked here for too long C. This comes with the territory."

 

"Look. I may not understand the context as well as you do, but I do know people. You're smarter than this. It is counter productive to generate so much animosity. What good is suggesting a path, if no one likes you enough to want to listen to you."

Ouch.

He sees the blow land. And softens his tone "You are smart enough to find a way to figure this out."

I can't. I just cannot. "Ok sure. But how about some support. A united front. If you fan the flames you're undermining what I'm trying to achieve. Help me out. I clearly cannot do this without you and Mr. Regional CEO."

He figets now, a little uncomfortable.  His gaze shifts and he can't quite meet my eye. Shit. Someone did complain about me. That's what started it. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. It takes everything in me to not ask who it was. I guess wrong it'll show I've pissed off more people then he knows. Guess right and it'll show that I knew I was fucking up but didn't resolve my shit. Fucking hell. 

He looks back up at me. In the eye. "Ok. Point noted. We could have handled it a little better."

I release a breath I didn't know I was holding. "Thank you. I'll make sure we never have to have a conversation like this again."

We both crack a smile at that. Hard part over. "That would be great. Let's get RC back in and get a plan of action in place."

Nakedfeet

I walk into the room of glittering strangers with my naked feet. Again.

This room is no different to the hells of middle school parties in karachi, except this is the middle aged aunty version in Lahore. It's month end, and a Monday, so I've been in meetings for 12 hours since 7am. I thought I'd have time to do my hair. I last ate a toast at at 827am, taking exactly 3 minutes. It is now 727pm, and I'm aleady 2 hours late to the 530pm invite. I walk in from the heat, and am instantly conscious of my hair, clearly un-blowdried in the ocean of perfect coifs. The second feeling is one of making a wardrobe mistake. Everyone is in some pastel version of green. I grabbed the first designer shalwar kameez I had that was ironed, but i now realize it was the wrong material, wrong designer, wrong bag (last seasons bottega urgh) and i stick out like a lawn spring sore thumb in a sea of some weird new chiffon, and some iteration of a crystal designer spring summer collection flats. I'm wearing the standard Cavalli I bought 5 yrs ago, I can drive and walk in them, and they're decent enough to switch from meeting to soirees, but my feet shrink just a bit in embarrassment as I'm given the head to toe and found profoundly lacking.

I take a deep breath and greet the hostess, taking a moment to thank God I grabbed the flowers some guests got yesterday along with my recycled present. She's airkissing me, looking at my hair and outfit pityingly. Her sister - weirdly also married into the same house in some kind of weird first cousin interbreeding orgy - sweetly presses a plate in my hand and makes me feel welcome. I awkwardly say my hellos, but before my ass is on the sofa they're calling me for the pictures.

I jump up, position myself on a corner perch. They all pose on their good side effortlessly, and i surpress the urge to fix my hair, a youthful stress habit my hands are still twitching to do. We take at least 25 pictures, in rounds of 5. Its nuts, but everyone takes is very very seriously. I don't bother, I just have to trust the halo effect works. 

I walk over, steeling myself for the dreaded chitchat. The photoshoot is continuing without me now, and I know they're staring daggers because I dared to break out of the mean girl clique but I'd rather do that then sit and grin like a fool for another minute. Out of the frying pan, and into a horror lined well where either I overshare, or inevitably say something weird that will cause cringe for the next 1-5 business days depending on the depravity of the situation. I latch on the former PTA president, her elder sister vibe and social skills graciously patch my ineptitude. She smiles knowingly as I check the time - she knows my insane schedule well. "Let me guess - month end?" Her husband is something senior in the middle east, I had served as technical advisor to his fund earlier. "And a monday! I'm going to do payroll from the car after this" and we both crack up.

As we're laughing I accidently bump into another someone. She grabs me and ruthlessly hugs and air kisses me thrice (so confusing who follows two vs three). "I just HAVE to come hang out in your garden darling, those pictures you keep posting are just DIVINE".  I grin, "No formality with you babe, please come over! I literally attended either your wedding. Or wait you're so little, was it your sisters?". Her elder brother - now a super famous businessman known for his car collection - was in my undergrad program albeit senior. We had attended enmasse and done all the dances, like the marasis we were.

I make my way over and finally sit, and see another acquaintance. She's on the board of the french embassy, I had recently met the ambassador at this signing ceremony for the work we're doing with the Punjab government. I tell her how there were 3 organizations signing with the minister, but the poor ambassador was so confused- and the language barrier so great - he just stood there for all the pictures. I pull out the picture and scroll through my reels - damn my emails are pinging hope its not a web app dev deployment issue - and we both howl at the sight of a serious MOU signing with the classic flags and wood and leather, and all dignitaries and one confused white man posing with no idea he wasn't supposed to be there.

We must have been too loud, because I feel the unkind beady eyes of mean girl # 1 on me. Yikes. Our kids have been enrolled in the same institution since literally age 2 Gymboree, but she has weighed me up countless times and dismissed me. I'm guessing my lack of any interest in all things she values would be the cause of it. I had once launched into the outrageous pricing strategy of Chanel doubling their Classic flap within one season, laughingly mentioning how I went intending to buy the classic only to walk out with just a wallet because they had damn well increased the price from $5500 to $10000. (I still get choked with outrage at the audacity). I think that had been the moment. We were all in one big happy class whatsapp group till around then, but then she had made a smaller offshoot group and had included me, and after that probably went ahead and made another even smaller one to make fun of me. Circles within circles. Someone or the other kept forwarding me screenshots of the vitriol, I couldn't stop laughing. "Oh darling you're looking so stressed and tired" she says like a cartoon villaness. Her side kick is missing thank God. I awkwardly take a step back, laugh and say "yesss, you know, surviving on caffiene and stress", but - poison dart delivered - she's turned away before I finish. I guess I chose my side when I decided to get educated and work, and I'm too strong a representation of all she is not - trophy wife to short nepo baby toad of a man. Her schooling, college, no real accomplishments just too threatening to her self worth. So she clings to her value system, putting me down secretly in little groups so she feels better about herself. Oh well. 

I make it out alive - there is a stunning, customized box with my name engraved on it as a giveaway - and I have no doubt it is full of thoughtful beautiful expensive things. The kind that speak of a life of effortless wealth, attention to detail, and free time. Time to get hair done, and manis and pedis and skin treatments, and swapping out the resort collection for spring summer. The tote with my first name initialed into it belongs on a beach in mallorca, I don't feel worthy. I hug and thank the sisters, and escape out the door with my nakedfeet, having survived. 

D

The Conference

I'm attending the investment banker bro sausage fest to watch my friend Freya speak on a panel. We are two of the only five women in the entire auditorium, and she was only added at the last minute when she met the organizer on her flight over. In fact, the stage has four chairs, and it's quite clear there is no space for the fifth which has her name tag in front of it. They've had to place it half hidden behind the podium, clearly added as the after thought.

I have crashed the conference because I hadn't seen her since she moved to Zurich, only to find as I get there that she is in the middle of changing her flight to leave early. "How could you Free! You just got here and you're flying back out in 3 hours! What the fuck!" I forget to use my inside voice, and the guy standing next to her turns, startled, at the expletive.

We both muffled our giggles that. She slaps his arm, and said "Oh let me introduce you, you guys were both in the same school and may know each other. Dani, meet Nadia"

His last name is on several buildings and hospitals, and I recognize him as a famous billionaires son. Danial is often on socials because he runs their media line - I had heard of him of course, but don't remember him from school. The lean build, crisp white shirt that screams of something expensive because it wasn't rumpled like everyone else's. And those glasses. Uff. I have always found nerd white boys hot. I avoid Freya's eye because she knows me too well, and knows exactly what she's doing. Her grin is unbearable. 

"Oh I was class of 99! Nice to meet you!" I smile at him. He blinks, checking me out, and I inwardly smirk because I know I look hot. My hair was done because of the thing I went to yesterday, and I'm wearing that super expensive designer shirt that hid my newly acquired tummy pudge. Casual, summery, yellow in a sea of black conference suits. I had to state my class year, by way of introduction. It's this weird jig we all do, trying to figure out who we are in the six degrees of separation. Which side of the snob line my pedigree lies in. Somewhere in the middle, thank you very much, he and his ilk are way cooler and way richer than me.

He's looking a little flummoxed. We all pause, confused. "Who were you..." he trails off awkwardly. "I was with Aisha and Gavi" i mention the house captains everyone knew, and he recognizes one of the names.

"Oh how. She was much younger.." and then "Oh I was confusing that with my college year! I was with her elder brother!" 

"Ah yes! I just met him recently, he and T had flown up together for that school alum game we hosted". Social positioning established, I move back to my friend and we go back to talking. She walked on to the plane that morning with only one earring, and once I'm done with my laughing fit, I offer mine. She cannot go on to stage with that! But she insists, probably because she finds my large freshwater pearls too Lahori for her taste.

He's listening to us, amused, but also pretending to be on the phone.

 

***

The Dinner

I get up from the sofa, and the room tilts a bit. 

"Whoa sailor, steady there" a hand mercifully grabs my arm from behind and steadies me. Freya's friend Dani, aka the hottest man in the room. I feel his arms twitch in surprise as I overcorrect and lurch backward, feeling his warmth and delicious hardness behind my entire back. I feel his amused breath ruffle my hair, the rumble of a very male chuckle huffs in the shell of my ear. "You are so plastered." 

The party has muted music and the hum of people talking all around us. I seem to have misjudged my alcohol tolerance amid the good food and conversation. Not that I care, I can feel my lips stretched across my teeth in what is probably a goofy grin. I see Freya raise a brow at me from across the room, but then she immediately gets distracted by her hosting duties. She's in town for a weekend, and decided to throw a mixer which snowballed to a 100 person catered event.

He gently disengages, keeping his hand politely on my elbow. I turn around to face him, bumping my knee into the coffee table. 

"Ow" I pout, but I can't seem to fully open my eyes and see if there is any damage. I know there is just no way I can coordinate my limbs well enough to check my knee, given how the room still seems to be gently swaying. I grab his bicep to steady myself. "Dudeeeeeeee, your muscles feel sooooooo strong."

Freya comes up behind me, a cool steadying presence. "Ookkaaaayy N I'm cutting you off babe. We need to take you home." She throws an arm over my shoulders and props me up comfortingly, handing me a bottle of water which I guzzle down greedily. 

She addresses Danial "hey D, you're going to have to drop her, I'll send her car over tomorrow morning." She rummages through my purse single handedly, pulls out my keys, then removes her arm my shoulder to detach the car fob. I try to say something, but he has to quickly bring up a steadying hand before I start listing. She hands him my house key. "I'm texting you the location ok?" She says to D, who nods.

And just like that, I'm frog marched into a waiting car. Freya belts me in, gives me a hug muttering about lightweights as she steps back and closes the door. I roll my window down "I luuurrrvvveee you Free. You're my bestest friend"

 "Love you too you absolutely mental idiot" she says affectionately, as he pulls the car out of the driveway.

I close my eyes, feeling the cool air from the car AC gently waft the hair around my temples. "I looveeee this leather smell" I sigh as I settle in and close my eyes and take a deep inhale.

"You're a hilariously cute drunk" he smiles, eyes on the road.

"I obviously don't do it enough, I really should do this more often!" I muse. I look at my hands, suddenly hypnotized by the jewelry as it sparkles under the streetlights passing overhead.

We seem to reach my apartment in seconds. He's been kind enough to come up to my door, which was a good thing because I cannot seem to connect my key to my lock.

The third time I miss, a warm hand gently guides me to the right location, and the lock turns. 

"Hooray!" I say in delight, beaming at him over my shoulder, but the move makes me sway and almost fall over.

His other hand comes to my waist to prop me up as he pushes the door open, gets us in and locks it behind him. He takes the keys from my hand, and stores them on the foyer table.

"Will you be ok?" he asks uncertainly. 

I've already discarded my shoes, and I drop my bag to the floor. "Of course!" I turn back to him, and misjudging the distance trip over the bag strap, and almost land straight into him but with a curse righten myself with a hand on the foyer table just in time. "See! Perfectly fine!" I say proudly.

He's trying to hide a smile as he rubs the back of his neck, "Ok, I'll head out now. Don't forget to lock the door behind me."

"Thank youuuuu" I drag out the you for some reason. He stands there for a second, hesitating, but I reach out behind him to open the door. 

Except the door doesn't seem to work. 

I frown as I turn the knob and pull, but it doesn't seem to move. I elbow him aside and put my other hand on the knob. I turn it with both hands, and pull with all my strength. 

Nothing.

"The door isn't working" I turn around, a little confused. 

He loses it, and bursts out laughing. "Alright Einstein, let me help you get to bed". He gently takes my arm, ignoring my spluttering, and herds me towards the hall.

He opens a door, and we come to a standstill. 

"Why are you taking me into the hall closet" I ask in a whisper.

I feel his shoulders shaking in mirth. He answers seriously though "I don't know where your room is, I haven't ever been to your place."

"Ooohhhh" and I keep standing there. The hall closet looks mesmerizing, it's dark and cozy. I want to lie down in it, but he grabs my shoulder and herds me towards the living room sofa.

"Let's just get you here, it looks comfortable enough" he says. 

He pulls out his phone and makes a call, as I recline with relief on the soft cushions. 

"Dude how much did she drink, she's ok but can't manage to get to her room. She couldn't even unlock the door!" He says to the person at the other end. 

My eyes are closed, and I sigh with happiness as I feel the soft cloud like material under my cheek. I can hear Freya protesting, something about no food, alcohol. I hear the words work. Stress.

Oh they're talking about me.

The room is moving too much, the cushions I'm clutching for stability feel good, so I just keep lying there. "Sorry I'm hogging the sofa."

He leans down and sits on the wooden coffee table facing me. "Don't worry about it" he kindly pats my arm. "Freya should be on her way to help you."

I open one eye. "I can't tell if I'm breathing" I whisper, but he has to lean close to hear it.

"Yes, you're breathing", he has that smile again. Inches from my nose, it is unbearably beautiful.

I reach out with my fingers and touch them to his lips, and he instantly sobers, his breath freezing. I can feel his soft lips and his scratchy chin, in mesmerizing contrast.

"I like your smile" I say. "I can tell you're a kind person".

I feel his mouth straighten into a hard line under my fingertips. "No, I don't think I am" his expression is far away, remembering something. 

"Oh. You look sad" the loss of his smile makes me frown too. I move my fingers from his mouth, to cup his cheek. My fingers brush against the lobe of his ear. It feels like soft velvet. Who knew earlobes felt so good.

He stifles a sound and holds my wrist to stop me.

"Don't be sad" I say, and my hand goes behind his head and I pull him down to kiss him. 

He pulls back. "I'm pretty sure you don't know what you're doing right now" he says in a low voice, as he tries to detach my hand from the back of his head. 

"I'm trying to kiss you because you're hot," I explain earnestly.

His smile blooms again, and he huffs out a small laugh. He's managed to unhook my hands, allowing him to straighten up and stand. "As great as this is for my ego, I pretty sure sober you won't want do this. Freya is on her way, she said she'll come spend the night here to keep an eye on you."

I stand up too. I try to hold his face in my hands, but he holds my wrists in warning. Gently, but firmly. 

I grin, and use a juisitsu move to free my hands.

"What the" he's startled, and I use the element of surprise to hold him and put my lips on his. He goes completely still. He makes a small sound of protest in his throat. His hands come to my waist, trying to restrain me I suppose.

When I can't seem to get him to respond, I protest. "I've really really wanted to do this since I saw you" I say. My hands flatten on his chest. "You feel so... right. How can this be bad" I lean into him again, and nibble his lower lip.

He shudders, and his eyes have drifted closed. And then he takes over.   

This. This was a kiss. So different from whatever I was doing. I can feel him everywhere, my lips, my tongue. Desperate, demanding. I feel this hunger, deep down in my somersaulting stomach. My breath merges into his. Whatever this was between us, it sparks us and ignites me in flame. He tastes of warmth and sweetness. He moans as he sucks on my tongue, and my entire body turns molten.

Then it all stops.

I open my eyes. His eyes are clear, bright with a feverish light. "I'm sorry" he says, and stumbles back but in the narrow space he bumps the coffee table. 

I brush a thumb against his cheek, and he flinches. He takes a few steps more steps backward, putting the table between us.

"You kissed me!" He says accusingly.

I look away, suddenly horribly embarrassed. "You kissed me back!"

He takes a deep breath and runs a hand through his hair, making them stick up all over the place. "Let's just chalk it up to whatever you're going through right now, you're vulnerable, a little tipsy, let's please just forget this happened". He's holding his palms out, like he's negotiating with a crazy person.

I feel my insides twist painfully. "You want to pretend this never happened?" I ask in a small voice, unbearably hurt. My insides feel hollow, burning with alcohol fueled insanity. The spark of rejection quickly turns to rage. How dare he come into my house, give me the best kiss of my life, and then pretend he doesn't want to do it again. 

He looks at my expression with a flicker of concern and alarm. 

"Fine. Then I'll forget this too" I yank him to me, and angling my face to his lips roughly kiss him one last time. "It's forgotten," our breaths mingle, my forehead on his, and I let him go and stalk over to the door.

I unlock and open it, and wait for him to exit.

***

The Hangover

I wake up, and feel like I've been hit by a truck. I try to stretch, but my hands and feet bump into the sofa arm. "Uuurrrgggghhhhhhh" is all I can manage, the barrage of nausea and shame rising up like bile. I try to unwrap my arms from the sofa throw, frowning at the offensively sunny light piercing my eyes. I try to swing my legs over, but amid the cushions, the Afghan throw, and my hangover I thump uncomfortably into the floorspace between the sofa and coffee table instead.

"Jesus fucking Christ" I mumble into the carpet. At least I'm out of the sun.

I give up trying to get up, grabbing a cushion to cover my eyes. Snippets of last night's party bubble up. Never again am I mixing cocktails with wine. My stomach roils at the thought. I curl my knees to my chest, and try to ignore all the dust the maid has left under the sofa. Did I drive home? Shit I hope not. Wait, Freya wouldn't let me. Did she drive me. And then suddenly I remember. Dani. In my house. Helped me get to the sofa. Me trying to kiss him. Him stopping me.

"HOLY FUCKING SHIT" I snap up, smacking the table with my elbow and jiggling all the paraphernalia on it. Kill me now.

I put my forehead on the sofa, thumping it, as I cringe. "You fucking MORON how could you" I moan, humiliation making blood flood my ears. 

My bedroom door opens, startling me. 

"Good morninggggggg" Freya emerges with a big fat cheery grin.

"I want to die. Just kill me" I mumble. 

Freya cracks up laughing as she walks over to the coffee machine. "The hangover or the kiss?" she asks. She shrieks with laughter at my expression. "Both I take it. Danial told me you tried to take his virtue last night." In an obscenely good mood, she laughs and cheerfully walks over to me and hands me a steaming hot mug and a toast.

I wrinkle my nose. "No. No. No words. I'm going to shower and brush my teeth first, and then you can make as much fun of me as you want." I need to scrub the memory of that kiss out of my brain. 

She gives me a hand, and then envelopes me in a hug. "You know I love you, right" she says.

"Of course bitch". I try to bat her out of my way, and she eventually lets go.

"You scared me last night."

I pause. I look up but can't seem to meet her steady gaze. Then I sigh, she knows me too well. "I know. I'm getting my shit under control." I say, and move towards my bedroom.

"I think you need to break shit more, not always be in control N. You're breaking apart at the seams.'

"Because I kissed a guy?" I try to sound flippant, but my voice chokes a bit. His lips on me. Right here.

"Because you've been working 16 hour days for the last three years. It's not sustainable"

"I've sustained it" I know I sound irritated, but even as I say it i know that it's a lie. I'm barely hanging on by a fingernail.

"At the price of your sanity" her concern shines through, and whatever angst I was feeling crumbles to dust.

"It's worth it. You know why I have to do this." I gesture to my apartment, my sanctuary.

"Not this way." She always was a goddamned stubborn ass bitch.

We face each other, battling wills. I give up first. I always do. 

"Ok. Concern noted. Now I really want to shower." I turn and flee to the bathroom before she can say anything further. I hear her phone start buzzing, and give a sigh of relief that the call will distract her, she was very capable of following me into the bathroom.

*

The Morning After

I emerge, scrubbed clean, wearing fresh clothes feeling human again. 

"Look at the timing" she exclaims as I emerge from my room as the doorbell rings. She ignores my confusion, and opens the door.

Fuck me sideways. It's D. He's holding three coffees and carrying a bag of look to be Okra Test Kitchen's croissants, and also juggling his car keys. What must he think of me, I acted like some drunken whore.

He walks in, sees my expression and freezes. 

We both turn and look accusingly at F.  

"You didn't tell her!" he says, as I eye her and say "Explain"

She grins unabashed. "You two need to talk. I need to go to work. Thank you for the caffeine". She grabs one of the mugs, gives him a quick peck on the cheek, blows me a kiss, and is gone.

The door closes with a very final click.

He looks good in his white polo and tan pants. Everything about him looks expensive. His hair is slightly damp at the ends like he just showered. Like me. He shifts uncomfortably from one foot to the other at the entrance.

Oh. "Come in, please, have a seat." I promise not to try to jump your bones again.

I gesture to the sofa, which Freya has thankfully righted and all traces of my uncomfortable night on it have been erased.

He hesitates, a ghost of a smile flickers on his face as he sits down. Shit what memory from last night is making him look so amused. He clears his throat. "Did you make it to your room eventually then?" Is he smirking?

"Nope, Freya stole my bed, I just ended up passing out on the sofa." I say, and take a seat on the other end, keeping a safe couple of feet between us.

"You did say it was the best sofa in the world" The awkwardness eases a little as we share a grin at that. Then I immediately sober, with a sick feeling of embarrassment and humiliation remembering his rejection.

"Look I called Freya over last night, you were pretty wasted."

"We don't need to do this." I hold up a hand. I have a report long overdue, an MOU that needs review, and several emails to respond to. I don't need to hash out awkward failed attempts at initiating a romantic moment., 

"Look I'm sorry. You - I - I was caught off guard. I'm in a terrible place relationship wise at the moment. I just had to come explain in person." He's leaning forward earnestly. 

My mouth tastes of ashes. "You owe me nothing D. I barely know you" He winces as if I've knifed him, but I continue. "My inhibitions were down, I was under the impression that you've been single for years, we're both adults, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have put you in that position." Of mauling you without your consent. Shit if gender roles were reversed this would literally have been assault. I feel ill, and it's not from the hangover.

His brown eyes are troubled. He looks at me, and for a second, he looks at me with such... hunger. But he looks away quickly, clears his throat and when he meets my eyes again the look has been wiped away. Maybe I just imagined it. "You - look - you have nothing - nothing -  to apologize for." He stumbles over the words but says them with such ferocity, that I can almost believe him. Almost. 

I stand up in dismissal. I can't take this anymore. I start to walk towards the door to let him out. "Look, I accept your apol--" I start to say. He grabs my hand, and time stands still. 

He stands up, so we're facing each other, at the exact same spot as last night. He looks like he has a lot more to say. Regret. Desire. Yes whatever I'm feeling isn't just with me. Helplessness. Something still going on with his ex wife? Custody issues probably. A definite lack of sleep, he seems to have rushed over before work, which means he's going on three or four hours of sleep. 

"You have to believe me. You are the most fascinating woman I think I've ever met." He holds my face in his hands. He blinks, slowly, and when his eyes open again unfettered lust shines through. His lip curls a bit as he clenches his jaw. his hands work their way to my mouth, and his thumb rubs my bottom lip. "The things I would like to do to you." his breath is ragged.

I think I gasp. I'm riveted in place, between his hands. His thumb moves slowly, agonizingly, from my lower lip to my jaw and then his hands move to the side of my head, and finally into my hair. We're both breathing raggedly now.

He closes his eyes, and takes a deep, deep breath. His hands stop, and fall back down to his side. I'm still weak kneed, a cloudy puddle of lust fogging my brain and cant toward him before stopping myself. I have never ever felt this strongly attracted to anyone else in my life. 

But it all remains unsaid in that moment, in that gap of silence between us. 

"I cannot drag you down with me. Please believe me. In another life, in any other timeline." He stumbles over the words, but the intensity with which he says them is clear. Those words sound familiar. Where have I heard them?

"Dickenson?" My brow furrows, uncertain. 

"Katy Perry" he says, sheepishly.

The moment passes, and we share a grin. He's looking at me too sincerely. His warm, kind eyes are just too much for me. I take a step back abruptly. "Thank you for coming by. I'm going to get back to it now." I gesture vaguely towards my home office. My throat feels absurdly choked. Get it together, you barely know the man. It's just the hangover talking. Eat the carbs.

We walk over to the door - third time I'm letting him out in the last 12 hours - and he hesitates briefly, but I can't bring myself to say anything or even give him a chaste cheek kiss a goodbye. I don't even dare come within a foot of him, not when I can still feel the imprint of his thumb on my mouth.

He walks out and I shut the door and lock it, leaning against it to catch my breath.

***

Getting Ready

I'm mulling over lipstick choices in my bathroom, and decide on the cherry bomb red named shade 999. Freya comes up behind me and makes an approving noise. "Naaaiicceee bitch. That red really is something"

I smile at her in the mirror. She's casually perched on my bathtub, using my ironing tongs, watching me get dressed. She's visiting, and staying with me of course. It's been nearly three months since I've seen her.

"Is it sad that I think I'm going to have more fun here in this bathroom talking to you than I will on this date?" I wrinkle my nose a little.

"Oh for fuck's sake we've been doing this for 30 years. Your hot date will be MUCH more exciting"

"Exciting? More like an anthropological excursion into the online dating scene. Exciting is... a highly doubtful outcome." I'm skeptical because - on Fs insistence- I had decided to swipe right on someone who was probably half my age.

"No Debbie Downer! Repeat after me - I am a hot. I want this. I deserve this."

I smack her arm before she can continue. "Ok ok that's definitely inspiring me to exit and hasten to the restaurant just to escape you."

"Good girl" she grins, and watches fondly as I exit my apartment. She's visiting the city and staying over, and will be taking some calls and working while she waits for me to come back and give her the full update. 

*

I walk into the trendy new restaurant, feeling horribly out of place. The average age of the crowd feels like it's 15. I walk up to the hostess, and she immediately takes me to the table. I am hot. I want this. I deserve this. I approach the table, and there he sits, Bumble right swipe number 1. What am I doing this is a huge mistake. Turn and run. But then it's too late because he's noticed me, and looks up and we make eye contact. A flicker of relief and appreciation chases across his face, and he relaxes into a smile. He stands up - whelp he's tall - and bends down and kisses both my cheeks in a European style greeting. "Hi! N?"

For one brief hysterical moment I consider denying that's my name just to see his reaction,  Behave. Why can't you be normal for just one evening. I desperately miss Freya and her stupid banter that effortlessly fills up the empty spaces in a conversation. "Yes! I'm N. Nice to meet you Sal". Glad you're a real person who looks like you didn't AI generate your dating pictures and seem to not be a serial killer.

I sit down, bracing myself for agonizing small talk. The waiter magically appears with a small stool for my bag, and another one stands attentively with his iPad poised to take our order.

"Should we order and get that out of the way?" He asks, and I nod. We decide on the preset menu. 

"So. Tell me more about you. I never asked where you've studied" he asks.

"Oh I'm a total nerd, did my computer science and math from the school of science and engineering" I laugh. 

"Haha hottest nerd I've ever seen! I was in their econ school in 2010.  What a coincidence"

Fuck me, he's nearly a decade younger. I need to get out of here. RUN.

I take a deep steadying breath. Sneak a look over to see if he's noticed, but he's happily still talking, oblivious to my social anxiety. Thank God.

He chats away, and my mind wanders again. I notice a commotion at the entrance, and a tall skinny woman with the most stunning waif like neck and obscenely scanty clothes floats to our table. "Sal darling, its been too long" her throaty voice sounds sexy as hell, like the rest of her. She must be six feet tall, because she's almost eye level with him. They air kiss hello, and a cloud of her perfume envelopes me. She even smells expensive.

He graciously introduces me. I don't get up, mostly because I'm paralyzed with awe that I'm in the presence of a real live goddess.

She looks down from her superior height, dismisses me as someone insignificant, and then floats over to her table. Every eye in the room seems to follow her, and we only get released from the hypnosis when she sits.

Sal completely oblivious picks up the story he's regaling me with and continues. I manage to laugh at the right places.

He watches with a look of satisfaction as I eat. Like I'm Gretel and he's the forest witch fattening me up to eat me. "Damn it's s good to see a girl eat." He exclaims, and gives me a nibble of some carpaccio from his chopsticks.

Like I'm Ms. Fucking. Piggy.

I smile politely, grit my teeth, and hope this torture ends soon. Be nice, he's a sweet young man. I nod and smile, and eat my entree. Nice young man. What the hell is wrong with me. He's hot. I should be thrilled. I stifle a yawn.

To his credit, he immediately notices and snaps up straighter. His brow furrows - clearly he's only used to women hanging on to his every word. "I hope I'm not boring you" he exclaims.

I hastily deny it "I woke up at 5am, just a little tired at this hour". He looks reassured, and launches into his 6am gym and swim routine, the one he's had since his modeling days. As if I didn't feel out of depth with this Adonis enough.

Mercifully, the meal ends. It doesn't even occur to him to order dessert or coffee, his flat probably six packed stomach and fresh glowing skin clearly speak of inhuman discipline like no sugar and ten hours of sleep. I nearly trip over myself trying to stand up once we've paid.

Ever the gentleman, Sal pulls my chair out and offers his arm as we walk out.

"I had a great time tonight. You're a great listener!" He says, sweet, charming. So easy.

"Me too!" I lie and we stand companionably next to each other waiting for our cars.

An entourage of black SUVs and a pickup truck of guards approaches the curb. Two security personnel rush out and open a car door to let out the passengers, and a harried assistant with an iPad and ear piece escorts a group of men into the restaurant.

"Happening place isn't it" Sal says in my ear, as the crowd jostles past us. He doesn't seem to mind bending down to my height to do it. I smile back, his eyes are a stunning shade of green with flecks of brown. Hazel. I'm wondering what is wrong with me and why I'm not clamoring to jump in his pants. It's pretty warm and humid, I can only feel uncomfortable sweat start to bead on my back, and I shift from one leg to another hoping valet hurries up. Sal looks serene and unruffled by the heat of course, like body temperature is just a construct for other humans.

"Nadia!?" an incredulous voice yanks me out of my thoughts. And lo and behold, Danial - heart stopping in full banker business formal - walking towards us. He waves a dismissive hand to the guards and assistant, and gestures to the group to go on. He has a businesslike smile, this one doesn't quite reach his eyes, but he still looks so unbearably handsome that I have to take a sharp inhale to brace myself. That smile falters a bit when his eyes zero in on my hand on Sal's arm, but the expression is quickly shuttered before I can decipher it, and he gives me a quick hug. That cologne. I'm transported back, I'm on the sofa, hanging on to the cushion to stop the room rioting, my fingers on his beautiful lips. Oblivious to the emotional devastation he's left in the wake of a simple hug, he turns easily to greet Sal like a long lost buddy. Of course they know each other.

"You should have told me you guys were coming here, I would have told them to roll out the red carpet. Were you celebrating a special occasion?" He asks us. Is he fishing for more information on our relationship? Sal, ever so charming, pleasantly explains that it's just a first date, one of many he hopes, and we all laugh awkwardly. "I'm a shareholder here, so if you ever need anything just say the word!" 

The valet brings up a car, and Sal looks over "That's me!" But he hesitates, uncertain not wanting to leave me standing alone, but also concerned that he's blocking traffic. 

"Oh no please, leave, I'm totally fine here. Thank you for a lovely evening." I can feel Dani's eyes on the back of my head as Sal reaches down to give a hurried cheek kiss.

Sal then turns and does the man hand clasp thing with Dani, and then starts moving towards the car as someone beeps at him to hurry up, and then with a quick wave drives away.

Danial takes off his suit jacket and then yanks off his tie with his left hand and stuffs it into his pants pocket. Sweat dampens his shirt, but he looks unbothered. I'm hypnotized by his hands as he unbuttons his shirt cuffs and rolls up his sleeves.  I can see the five o clock shadow and the open collar of his shirt. Help me lord. He leans towards me conspiratorially "Let me guess, Free is waiting for you to give her the down low on date night?" he says with a boyish grin. 

"Guzzling down diet cokes and tracking my location as we speak" and we both crack up.

"I'm glad you're better now" he says, but at my quizzical look, explains further "You seem happier". I look at him, noting the dark circles smudging his under eyes, and the five o clock shadow and know that whatever he was going through wasn't resolved as yet. He hesitates for a brief moment, but then with a mischievous grin adds on, "It seems dating a younger guy suits you."

I splutter with outrage, but then burst into laughter. "Tonight was more of an anthropological expedition on blind dates." I say with a shrug. Poor Sal. The valet with my car has arrived. The same one he probably had to drive over that night.

He turns to me with a small ghost of a smile on his lips, at either my description of dating or perhaps a memory from that night in my car. He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, and it feels unbearably intimate so I take a step back. He immediately drops his hand and stands up straighter like he didn't realize what he was doing. "Hope really is a thing with feathers isn't it," he smiles, knowing I'll get it.

Dickenson. "We are on the strangest seas aren't we." I say, but that makes the moment too profound so I have to do something to make it lighter.  "Hah, I knew you did A level literature." I grin triumphantly, and love that I've made him give that low laugh. He seems lighter, more relaxed, hands in his pockets, sleeves rolled up, unbothered by the heat, smiling that smile that reaches his eyes again. I start moving toward the valet and the line of impatient cars. I don't dare come anywhere near his cheeks to kiss a goodbye as is customary, I don't trust myself. 

He watches me leave, and as I look in the rear view mirror I can see him still standing there as I drive away.

***

Brunch

I walk in to the bustling restaurant, and there is Freya waving like a mad woman. I already regret agreeing to her plan to go out for brunch and then the beach, which sounded more exhausting than fun. Everything in me wants to turn back and get back into bed and either sleep or read a book. I go over, but pause as I notice her sitting on a crowded table. My social anxiety makes me freeze, flight or fight taking over for a second. I breathe, and notice her work friends on one side of the booth, a man seated on a chair at the foot of the table - Sal - but when I notice Danial on the other side with the only empty seat next to him my anxiety levels triple. Get it together it's brunch a public restaurant. Ever since my deluded drunken attempts to kiss him last year, I have studiously and carefully tried to avoid coming in close proximity to him. I take a deep breath, cheek kiss everyone - including Danial - and then sit down avoiding his eye.

Freya looks stricken once she sees my expression. She hadn't realized I was still feeling awkward about Danial an entire year later. I smile at her reassuringly, but she doesn't buy it. Mercifully she doesn't say anything. The conversation is humming around some work event they had all gone the day before.

I feel Dani's eyes on me, and have a chance to brace myself for conversation. "How have you been?" he asks. "Have you dared to eat a peach?"

TS Eliot. My favorite. I can't help the smile "Just measuring out my life in coffee spoons unfortunately."

Dani's answering smile blooms, lighting up his face. I have to look away, it's like staring at the sun.

Sal gives us an odd look. 

"Oh that's a quote from Alfred Prufrock, it's a poem we both liked ages ago." I explain to him, but he still looks confused. He shrugs and goes back to the conversation Freya is having.

"I think you've been relegated to the nerd side of the table" Danial says amused, taking a sip of his cocktail. 

"Oh no boo hoo" I mock cry, but then have to remark, "In all fairness, TS Eliot over brunch is pretty weird I guess."

He clutches his heart like I've shot him, hamming it up. Seems a little tipsy. 

Freya pipes up "hey Dee, easy on the mai-tais"

"Yes mom" 

"Sorry not into that kind of porno baby" she quips, and they both crack up.

"You're all so weird, I love it" says the girl with a laugh.

Dee's eyes have the feverish alcohol fueled light, a little out of place amid fun, sunny, airy brunch. He seems to be on edge, dangerous, reckless. Burning the candle at both ends. 

I'd heard rumors of his ex-wife taking him to court. Ugly rumors. It was clearly taking a toll. His mouth has a slight sneer to it, as if he's about to snarl out an insult.

"Let's go to the beach!" I blurt out, worried about what he was capable of in this mood. Freya flicks me a surprised look, then notices Danial and slowly nods. 'After food? What a great idea! Sal has a beach house we can chill out in, he was just mentioning it earlier."

*

That's how we found ourselves in swimsuits and kaftans, toes in the white sand a few hours later. I'm diligently putting up an umbrella and laying out the towels so I don't get sand everywhere, and sit and slather on sunblock. Everyone else runs around shrieking like little kids. Sal picks up Freya and tosses her into the water, and they all howl with laughter and dive in after her. 

I root around my bag and pull out my beloved Kindle, ready for a blissful afternoon. I make a small sound of satisfaction, thrilled with how the day has turned out.

Danial emerges from the beach hut. He's switched to hard liquor now, whiskey in hand, something dangerous simmering under the surface. He's standing at the balcony, his Ray Bans shadowing his eyes, looking out on to the sea. He doesn't look like he's seeing it, as he stands for ages.

My heart flips. I can't imagine losing access to my child. Or having all my dirty laundry thrashed out in public, everyone gleefully tearing him down.

Then he deflates. He places the glass carelessly on the banister, which he grips till his knuckles go white. He looks down at his feet, his chest heaving.

He shouldn't be out in public. But alone in an empty home would be worse I suppose.

Suddenly, I'm in the cross hairs, and with alarm I notice I've been caught staring, my Kindle abandoned in my lap. I quickly turn and pretend to be watching the ocean also.

Feet appear near me, and I'm forced to look up as he looms over me. He casually flops down on the towel next to me. His lips are in a grim line, but his eyes are still kind, the whiskey probably dulled the mean edge from earlier this morning.

He looks out at the beach, and the others still playing volleyball and occasionally shrieking with mirth. He then turns to me, with an amused half smile. "Let me guess - you're reading some super classic literary piece". He's cross legged, resting his hands in the sand behind him.

I hesitate, but then decide he'd get a kick out of this. I click to the cover, and flip it and show him a picture of a pirate with bulging muscles with a scantily clad woman in a half ripped dress draped over him. With a sheepish grin, I confess "a base bodice ripper today, needed a break".

And just like that, his face lights up with hilarity, and he throws his head back and laughs out loud. "Oh I did not know you had it in you to read smut."

I grin wryly, "Happens to the best of us. Been wrestling with a 100 sheet financial model all week, couldn't manage anything else."

He perks up interested. "Raising a round?"

"Considering it. I hate VCs" I wrinkle my nose.

He looks steadily at me, weighing something, but then has to say it "Do you know what I do!?"

I freeze, horrified. I met him at a literal VC conference. "Let's pretend I didn't say this." I say, horribly embarrassed.

He laughs out loud again, and flicks some sand at me. "Knowing some of my colleagues I actually don't blame you. I'm partial to PE myself"

"Potatoe potato" the words come out before I can stop them.

He chuckles and playfully smacks my hat brim, causing it to go awry. "Hey!" I bat his hand away, righting it, but my kindle slips off my lap with the jostling and lands on the towel between us.

He grabs it, and to my absolute horror presses a random page and starts reading the page. I freeze. He looks up, his eyes shining with hilarity. "Dear God what crap, this is HILARIOUS." I try to grab the Kindle, but he holds it aloft and out of reach, easily keeping me at bay with a single arm, and then reads "He growled a curse, as his hot spear rammed into her aching folds."

"Give. It. Back!" I shriek desperately, but he's too strong. He's grinning from ear to ear, but mercifully, he reads the rest of the torrid love scene silently. He reaches the end, and bursts out laughing, clutching his stomach, tears coming out of his eyes.

"Wow i can't believe you read this absolute shite" he gasps out in between the laughing, struggling to breathe. Finally, he leans back, spent, his heaving laughter finally subsiding.

I huff and grab my kindle back, giving him a haughty look, spoiled somewhat by my scarlet cheeks stained with humiliation. I straighten my hair, and a little annoyed, say "well glad to see you're smiling again. Happy to be of service" i mock bow.

He looks startled, as if just realizing he's out of his funk. Then a slow smile blooms, the special one I love, that crinkles his eyes and the one that seems to be only for me. Only for you!? That book did scramble my brains. Get a grip.

I slip the offending hardware into my bag out of sight, not sure I can meet his eyes without dying of embarrassment. He reaching a finger under my chin and tips it up. I look over, confused.

"This morning I woke up prepared to have the worst day of my life. I don't think anyone could have made me feel better like this, so thank you" his sincerity is raw, flaying me to the bone.

I smile back, and nod in acknowledgement, feeling chuffed. 

Freya notices us sitting there, and shouts "come on you boring old farts, come and play with us". She gestures towards the volleyball, and then knocks it over the net to Sal. Danial waves to her, then stands up and offers me a hand. 

 

***

Friends

It takes all my strength to not burst out crying as I exit the meeting. I reach the hallway, before I notice with horror I won't make it and a tear spills out. I quickly duck into the women's rest rooms. 

There are too many people, so I lock myself into a cubicle. I'm carrying too much paraphernalia, and it says so much about my mental state that I collapse onto the closed toilet, sacrifice my laptop bag to the floor and clutch my handbag, before the river of tears escape. I try to muffle the sounds, conscious that someone may hear me but the misery is too great. You failure. You just couldn't convince them to fund you. What kind of entrepreneur are you, you can't even get them to see your worth. Sitting there, in the tiny office toilet cubicle I drown in the darkness of my thoughts. 

Where did I lose them? I mentally make a catalog of the four people I was pitching to. The two people on the left, I had lost them from the start, they weren't even really listening. The person in the middle - it was her. Nasty ass bitch. A woman! So dismissive, so cutting, interrupting everything I tried to say, giving me a barrage of questions she didn't seem to understand the answers to. I got flustered. Did I say what I intended to say? I did. But she didn't believe me. What about the fourth guy? He was the worst. He didn't participate, but eventually dismissed me without any questions which was perhaps worse. That callous disregard, not deeming me worthy of words or understanding probably hurt the most.

I eventually surface, spent, tears have stopped and my cheeks have dried. Shit how long have I been here. I check my watch, because time has stretched confusing me. Twenty minutes. Just twenty. I hesitate, but I can still hear people outside and can't risk anyone seeing me. I use the toilet paper to blow my nose and wipe my face, squashing my inner shudder at the germs. This is an emergency. Just make it through the next hour. I finally emerge from the toilet stall. 

The cleaning lady is mopping in one corner and gives me a funny look. I observe the devastation of my face, and take a deep breath. Damage control. I wash my face with the liquid soap because there really isn't anything else I have on me that can help fix the damage. Once my skin is scrubbed clean, the red nose and blotched skin from the tears is fully exposed. I sigh, take some tissue and wet it, and layer it on my face, trying to get the coolness to help the redness subside. I give it half a minute, and then when I remove the wet tissue I notice a slight improvement. Enough for damage control. I pull out the small cream from my bag, and apply that. I scrounge around some more, and locate an old lip gloss, and quickly apply that. Feeling exposed and naked without makeup is scary. I have to find something to fix this before my next meeting. I just cannot face them like this. I'm too far from the hotel to make it there and back. I'll have to find some place close by. I pull out my phone, but then curse. It's on its last legs of battery, and my roaming and not getting data. Fucking hell.

I retrieve my laptop bag and then set out from my bathroom for my next mission - charging and internet. Then make up. Then meeting. I ignore the quiver of fear at the thought of running through another barrage like the last one.

My plans are thwarted almost immediately, as I exit the door and collide into a man barreling down the corridor. I muffle a curse as my laptop bag slips of my shoulder and falls. What the fuck.

"Oh sorry" a familiar male baritone says. 

"Holy shit! Dani!" I exclaim. What a coincidence!

He's startled, distracted, and then shocked as recognition dawns. "Nadia! Hello! Of all the gin joints in the world!" He smiles and gives me a hug and kisses my cheek. 

 I realize I'm still holding his elbow and quickly drop it. 

"What are you doing here?" He asks, looking up and down the now deserted corridor confused. He looks over, and goes a little quiet, no doubt taking in my hideous state of undoing.

"Don't ask, had the worst meeting ever." My voice breaks a little to my alarm. 

"Hey hey hey, are you crying" he sounds flabbergasted.

Just that question is enough to make the tears well back out. "Now look what you've done, don't be kind you'll set me off again:" i muffle a wail, scrounging for a tissue and finding nothing, so I have to use my sleeve.

He stands helplessly, mouth agape for a few seconds, but then picks up my laptop bag from the floor, and grabs my arm and pulls me to an exit.

It's a stairwell, not very used by the looks of it. "This is the way to the smokers area, not many ppl use it" he explains. "The view is great"

I muster up a watery smile and say "but I have to charge my phone" but still follow him up.

When we emerge, there are indeed 3-4 smokers milling around in a corner, and it looks like a somewhat untended dumping ground with a broken chair, some random buckets, and a steel can where ppl undoubtedly dumped their cigarette butts. 

And then I gasp. "This view!" We can see for miles. Big puffy cumulous clouds against a bright blue sky, murmuring birds, and the vast bustle of the downtown financial district we're in. We're on top of it all.  I am mesmerized, the knot in my throat completely forgotten. 

He gives me a super satisfied smile. "It's something, isn't it" he says and rummages through his suit pocket.

A handkerchief is proffered along with a portable battery charger. I hand him my phone, and take the hanky, blowing my nose noisily, and mopping up whatever I didn't sweep away with my hands already. "What are you, my dad" i smile gesturing at the old school cloth, and then stuff it into my laptop bag. "No way I'm giving you that germ filled rag till I've washed it".

He huffs out a laugh and we stand companionably side by side, the wind ruffling our hair. 

It's fascinating to see the city from this angle. I can see children's playing equipment at the foot of the building, one I hadn't noticed before. The entire financial district lays out at our feet.

He turns around and leans against the wall, which allows him to face me. I don't know how long we stand there, me looking out, and him next to me. I notice his gaze is on me now. He takes out a cigarette and a lighter from a crumpled pack that's seen better days. He notices my look, and says "I keep it for emergencies only". 

I don't think I've seen anything sexier than a man light a cigarette and take a deep inhale. He closes his eyes in bliss, like he's savoring a long lost old favorite. He takes it out of his mouth, and offers it to me.

I wrinkle my nose in disgust. "Gross, hate the smelly things." 

He's leaning back, the late afternoon light and shadows throwing his features into sharp contrast, turning his eyes into bottomless pools as he takes another inhale. "Some situations just call for it."

For some insane reason, my mind immediately goes to a post-coital scene, with Danial shirtless heading to a balcony, pulling out that pack and lighting it. I feel breathless at the thought.

He's looking at me intently as if reading my thoughts, exhaling another puff slowly. I'm suddenly conscious of my terrible state, acutely feeling my naked skin, red nose and red eyes. There is way too much light, I can imagine all my flaws on display. Impulsively, I gesture for the cigarette, and hold the proffered butt in the middle of my fingers. It feels strange, alien, and a coil of disgust repels me. I raise it to my lips, and he seems to be about to say something when I inhale, and instantly choke. "Holy shit that's nasty as fuck" I cough out, eyes watering, chest on fire. 

He leans in unbearably close, "Don't inhale." And he's looking at my lips like I'm a morsel he wants to eat. 

Everything in me wants to chuck the stupid thing off the balcony into the ether. Defiant to all good sense, I lift it to my lips again, carefully filling just my mouth. But don't get the timing right and some of it goes in, and my body rejects it completely, my spluttering making it stream out of my nose and mouth, leaving an awful taste of garbage and poison behind. He rubs my back in sympathy, and we exchange a wry smile as I give up and snub it into a small chipped mug someone has left there as an ashtray. I look over at him sheepishly, but he's looking at me intently. Too close. He slowly lifts a finger, and touches some moisture at the corner of my eye. "We've all been there", he says quietly.   

I lower my eyes to my feet, horribly embarrassed. His finger goes to my chin and chucks it up a bit, electrifying me with the tiny contact. "Anyone who doesn't get it isn't worth your time".

I'm having a little bit of trouble breathing, but for different reasons now. His lips, tethered to his finger, pull me in for a fraction of a second. I can feel aching want shiver through me. I feel his breath on my lips and close my eyes.

His phone buzzes, breaking the moment.

"Shit you're probably busy" 

He takes a second, then takes a deep breath like he's pulling on an invisible cigarette, and blinks. One corner of his mouth lifts in a little smile. "Nah not busy at all" he lies, his eyes crinkling adorably.

I clear my throat. Back to business. "Thanks for the perspective" i gesture to the view. I get my laptop bag from him, but he carries it for me as we head back towards the stairwell.

Before we head back into the building, he pauses. "I'm hanging out at the boat tonight with some friends, why don't you join us?" He says casually. Too casual. Like what I say next is really important to him.

I hesitate. All I want to do is go back to my hotel room and not speak to another human being for the next ten years. I definitely need to re-do all our growth forecasts now that funding seems unlikely. I open my mouth to politely decline, but somehow, the words don't come out. "Sure, but there better be lots of wine, I don't think I'll survive socializing without it."

***

The Boat

The pier is rickety and dark, but the uniformed chauffeur guides me to the correct boat. It's the only one with the lights on, music spilling out. My chest weighs down a little in dread. 

I navigate the swaying gangplank, tightly gripping the railing. Freya had missed a step getting on to her family boat once when we were in our O levels, she had gone straight through into the black waters, her horrified boat staff jumping in to pull her out. As teenagers we had found it hilarious at the time.

A group of glittering strangers stand on the deck. It's large, large enough that I can hear people on the top deck, but not see them. A bar has been set up, with series of expensive looking food. A man actually has a sweater tied around his shoulders. A woman is teetering at the railing in skyscraper heels, wearing a skin tight dress that ends way too high. They're holding drinks, and uniformed waitstaff are carrying trays of finger food. Like a king in his court, Danial stands at the helm. As usual, he's tossed his suit and tie off, and his crisp white shirt, rolled sleeves and open collar is heart stopping. I hesitate before stepping on, I did stop at the hotel to change, but dressed for literally boating, in shorts, and still have my blazer from this morning to ward off the cold breeze in the water. I thankfully wore wedges instead of flip flops, even though I regret that decision a bit when I teeter onto the deck.

Danial happily walks over, his eyes snagging a little on my bare legs. "How are you feeling" he asks, as he gives me a hug and a cheek kiss in greeting. We pause at the edge entrance deck, his back is to them, but I can see them looking with curiosity.

"Survived, but unsurprisingly didn't raise a bloody thing."

"Don't freak out, but I called some colleagues over. Schoomz a bit, they would be interested in funding your vertical."

I freeze, horrified. I had expected to chill out and get drunk, not do more work. I hate surprises.

He realizes his mistake. He grips my elbow and squeezes it and says a low voice where I have to lean forward to hear "Shit I'm sorry I should have given you a heads up. You can just chill if you're not up for it."

"Just give me wine and all will be forgiven."

He grins, and keeps holding my elbow for support as we walk over to the group standing near the other side, stairs to go up behind them. Game face on. 

I grit out my hellos and thankfully a helpful staff member presses a large glass of white wine into my hands. I take a long swig - a gulp just a shade too big to be polite. I almost choke when the man from the meeting earlier introduces himself, no recognition on his face. He made me cry! 

"He's a friend" Danial murmurs in my ear, while leaning behind me to pull out a drink for himself from the bar

"I actually met you today. I pitched to the group" I say sweetly. He looks startled, his eyes darting from me, to Dani's hand is on my elbow. He then sets his chin defiantly, beady eyes glittering unkindly. His colleague perks up. "Oh you're in tech! What do you do?"

"We're do skills verification for K-12 education, we work in the AI infrastructure layer. I had done my masters thesis on it in Boston."

"What would be your moat?" Mr. Beady Eyes jumps in. Now he asks the questions. 

I feel a little self conscious, and I take another gulp of wine. "We have first mover advantage in this geography, and momentum. We're also in talk with the federal education ministry." I don't think I can do this.

"What about you? What got you into the VC world" 

Mr. Beady Eyes seems startled. Do people not ask him personal questions? Did I make some sort of faux pas? 

His eyes rest on the attractive woman who's holding his arm. He smiles for the first time, something that his face doesn't look it's used to doing. "When I graduated I just wanted to make lots of money" the group laughs.

"And have you succeeded?"

He looks startled again, and laughs out loud and this time Danial joins him. They clink their glasses, and he says "We're doing ok."

The conversation shifts to a debate over which year was better, with other colleagues joining in. Relieved to be out of the spotlight, some others have joined them, which means the top deck will be empty. 

I teether up the stairs, a worried deckhand un uniform solicitously hovering to ensure I make it. Wedges were a bad idea, but it was either hotel slippers or this, I forgot to bring anything else in my suitcase.

The night sky is astonishing. Dark, dramatic clouds artfully block the moon. The breeze has picked up, whipping my hair and bringing much relief to the dry desert heat from the day. I chug the rest of my glass, and gesture for another one. The top deck has a bunch of large sofas made from some bean bag material, and I happily collapse into one.

Only two other women are left. I recognize the one I met this morning, the one who asked all those aggressive questions. If she's surprised to see me she hides it well, and to her credit she recognizes me.

"Oh hey! What a coincidence, nice to see you here" she air kisses me, cool, reserved. 

"Likewise" I say a little stiffly. 

"So how do you know Dani" her colleague asks curiously. 

"We went to the same school"

"Ooohh did you know Gavi? He's my cousin!" She says.

"Of course! Tell that old coot I said hi!" We both laugh. We take a selfie so she can send it to him, and the night doesn't seem to be that bad anymore.

*

An hour or so later I'm still lounging on the sofa, enjoying the spectacular ocean, breeze, music. A steady stream of food has made it's way to us on the top deck, and a stream of some other entrepreneurs in the same space have come up, or some other people from Dani's firm, even a former classmate. I've downed almost the entire bottle of wine, and am pleasantly buzzed, the rankling from the awful failure from today receding a little. 

I hear Redbone come on downstairs, and it pulls me up. It's getting late. Should head out. I look up and realize the last group is making it's way down the stairs, so I get up and follow them too.

I hesitate at the stairs, I am not steady at my feet at all. I take off my wedges, barefoot would be easier, but for one terrifying second feel like I will topple with the movement of the ocean. A deckhand thankfully jumps up the steps, and grips my arm firmly and takes the wine glass out of my hand. She must be used to this. I grip her arm gratefully, and sway down somewhat ungracefully. I grin sheepishly. She's young, tanned, fit, like most people who work on boats are, hair bleached blond from the sun and skin honeyed. She must be in this twenties. 

Danial is standing behind the bar, taking what seems to be on a work call. He sees me and holds up his finger in a "one minute" gesture, and turns - while still on the phone - to see the last group off. All the staff seem to have gone except for the one who helped me down. 

I go over to the speakers. The bass buzzes pleasantly around me, the boat swaying adding to the inner wine induced spin. The song Patrick Swayze dances to in that movie comes on, and my hips pick up the beat. I look around for my glass, but don't find it. I just take an open wine bottle, and just swig it directly. Danial - still on the phone - has pulled up his laptop and settled it on the bar, checking something and speaking to the phone. He notices my swaying, and looks like he wants to say something but gets distracted by the voice on the phone. I dance gently, the music seems to hug me, enveloping me from the tips of my fingers to my toes. Where did my shoes go?

"Ok I'm done, let's head out? I told your car service I'll drop you to your hotel," he seems to be speaking from a great distance.

I smile, and dance over to him. He eyes me warily, his mouth trying to stay in a straight line suppressing a smile, but his eyes are shining with appreciation. I bask in it, even if he stands stiff, his back ramrod straight, like he's in a lions cage. 

I put my hand on his chest, encouraging him to sway too, but he resists. I do a little twist in time to the music, a big goofy grin on my face probably. I don't think I can feel my face.

It's like the music is in my brain, broadcasting from my insides. I close my eyes, my arms raised above my head, my feet tapping to the beat. I slowly turn, but when I look back, Danial is still standing there, unmoving, looking down from his superior height. 

I hold his wrists, and move them. He says something in protest I can't hear, Solomon Burke's Cry to Me is now crooning soulfully, probably into the speakers, but it feels like he's singing in my ears. Best buzz ever.

Danial clearly doesn't want to dance. In fact, he is so still he doesn't seem to be breathing. I bring his wrists together and force his hands to clap in time to the music. I find that hilarious, and burst out laughing. I move his wrists to my waist, but his eyes grow sharp with warning, so I go back to waving them in time to the gentle music. He tries to hold them still, but I put them on my shoulders. He holds my wrists in warning. His eyes are shining with worry. For me. For us. Like this.

I break out of the hold easily, startling a laugh from him. "Jiujitsu" I explain, I took some classes at some point.

He raises an eyebrow. To demonstrate, I hold his wrist and elbow, and then go into the waki gamate, one of the first self defense moves anyone learns. He muffles out an undignified "what the fuck" as he's pushed to the ground. I laugh out loud, and pat his back and give him a hand to get back up, but he grins and tries to yank me down, and obviously is much stronger so succeeds. I laugh as I land on the hard wood, so drunk I don't even notice if it's painful. As he tries to get back up, I use my leg to kick his knee sideways, and then not too gently kick him in the stomach, knocking the wind out of him. He goes down like a sack of bricks. I find it hilarious. I keep lying down, goofy grin in place, my hands pick up the beat and keep bopping to the music. He's stunned for a second, but then bursts out laughing. I roll over to him and lever myself onto his body, cutting off his laughter abruptly. I straddle his stomach - dear God did I just kick him there - still dancing a little. I can feel his belt buckle pinch my inner thigh, my knees are on either side of him. He bites his lower lip, like he's breathless. He hasn't said a word. Or I can't hear him over the music echoing in me. I lean forward and slowly put my hands on his shoulders. He holds my wrists in warning. Slowly, slowly, because the room is now spinning intensely, the singer crooning in his soulful voice deafeningly in my ears, I come an inch lower.

Then another.

His hands are painful on my wrists. They move up. Our stomachs are now touching, a button digging a little into my lower belly. His hands - trying to still my progression - are on my upper arms, in the sensitive area above my armpit.  I moan, as his rough callused fingers make their way from the side of my arm to my sensitive rib cage to, to my waist.

My face is an inch from his, his breath fanning my lips. I try to speak, but the room is spinning too much.

I close my eyes, to try to stop everything from moving. His hands leave a delicious trail of warmth, have moved from my waist to my bottom, trying to stop my hips from grinding. My last conscious thought is to feel his warm hands holding me safe, and then I give in to the darkness and lose consciousness.

*

I come to with a lot of offensive light and offensive seagulls making a ruckus. The bed lurches, as does my stomach, and I jolt up in horror, but manage to keep the contents of my stomach inside. Holy shit. I'm still on the boat, but in a room. Well a small berth. But big enough to probably be the master. I gasp, and lurch over to what I hope is the bathroom. Ten minutes later I feel like I've vomited out all my innards. I have to lie down on the floor of the shower area for a minute or two to get my bearings. Boat. I'm on Dani's boat. I need to get my shit together. Deep shame rises up within me. What must he think of me. I pick myself back up, and check my watch. I have three hours till I have to make it to airport, just enough time to go back to my hotel and pack. I quickly text the car company my location, and then confirm they can arrive in twenty minutes. I would need to shower here. I crawl up, and thank God that the bathroom - by boat standards at least - has luxurious shower, and some hotel like disposable toiletries. 

Ten minutes later, after thoroughly scrubbing off all traces of the sins of the previous night, I emerge to the conundrum of what to wear. I salve my undergarments and shorts, but the shirt definitely cannot be reused. Wash in the sink? I eye the small dresser, and open a drawer a say a prayer when I find five identical white button downs. Clearly Dani's but I hope he won't mind me stealing them in an emergency. Should I text and ask him first? I don't think I have his number!

I take it out, and put it on, but have to tuck it into my shorts else it reaches my knees. I find the blazer neatly folded with my bag, and put that on and feel it's safe enough to emerge from the berth, hoping that the boat is empty and I don't have to meet Dani's eyes. Dear God did I jujitsu him!

I open the door and walk down the small hallway to the main area which has the bar. No luck at escaping unnoticed, two staff members are bustling about, one vacuuming the sofas and the other putting out a breakfast buffet on the bar. They happily greet me, as I groan inwardly and try not to look like I'm doing a walk of shame. I'm hoping Danial has left. 

Such is my hurry to sneak off the boat like a coward that I almost make it off the gangplank without noticing that he's standing on the pier. I nearly barrel into him, and only recognize him in horror when he grabs my arm to stop me from falling into the water. Like Freya.

He's looking thoroughly amused, but too gentlemanly to voice it. He notices my damp hair, my dark glasses, and his eyes narrow at the shirt a little.

I cannot meet his eyes. I feel like falling in the water would be less awkward than having this conversation. I close my eyes in the shame of it all, but then realize I have to open them and face him. Man up. "I am SO sorry for whatever the fuck I did last night" I confess. I can only look at middle of his - very nice and muscly - chest, and cannot get myself to look up at his face. 

I pause. But he doesn't say anything, and the pause stretches on for eternity. I sneak a peek, bracing myself for a grim disapproving look of derision. Give me strength to get past this. I'll do better, I promise. 

I see pure unadulterated amusement instead. It makes me blink a little, and then bluster. What the hell, am I some sort of clown for his entertainment.

"Why are you laughing" I say indignantly. "I stole your shirt as well. Well borrowed." I correct hastily.

"You're a hilariously cute drunk" he says, and in that moment, standing on the pier still slightly hung over, barely surviving a day and night of hell, I bask in the glow of being forgiven.

"But wait, where are you off to, I came back to see if you wait till tonight, I'll be heading back in the company jet and you can just come back home with us."

"Errrr..." For one wild insane second, I consider it. A private jet! It sounds heavenly! But then immediately I imagine all the same financiers with me. And worse - me and Danial - in close confines again. Hell the fuck no. I've made enough of a fool of myself. At the worst possible time, I remember my last memory before passing out - his hands, sliding up my arms, down to my sides, and to my thighs. I was literally grinding on top of him, and all he wanted to do was stop me. My body breaks out into goosebumps. "I'm so sorry, we've decided to just continue to bootstrap, so that means we need to revise all our growth plans, and that should have been done yesterday. Literally." I can no longer meet his eyes, the embarrassment too much to bear. I can feel my ears burn hot.

He puts his arms on my shoulders, forcing me to look up. "Hey, I know you must be feeling awful this morning. But you had a rough day yesterday. We all do what we need to to survive." He gives me a hug, and wrapped in his arms for a fleeting second I feel like I want to stay there forever. 

I take a step back. 

"Thanks Dee, you're one of the good ones."

I wave and turn around. I get in the car and when I turn back, he's gone and the pier is empty.

**

The Game

A six foot tall model towers in front of me - the kind that was on a cover last month and walks catwalks - but is terribly inconvenient, my five feet don't stand a chance at seeing the game. Not that anyone in our lower bowl seats seems interested in the actual sport, they're there to see and be seen. Except for the four of us of course. Freya is chomping nonchalantly at a disgusting hotdog cursing at anyone who comes in her way, Zain and Saba yelling at the scores right next to her. Danial was also somewhere in the stadium, but had said he had to entertain some clients so would need to be in some VIP area somewhere.

Behind us is Sal - an equal offender in the height arena - who roped us all into this. He's towering above me chatting with his former coworkers, including the former model turned pop star who owns the box of seats we are in. 

Mercifully the model floats away to stand further down the row, and my view is restored just in time to see an almost chauka that gets fielded into an out. Freya and Zain erupt into berserk cheers, and we all high five and grinning and hugging like lunatics. A buff twenty something man - clearly on cocaine or some other stimulant - erupts into a dance move almost mowing down a harried assistant - and the stadium camera pans on to him and our box is broadcast onto the jumbotron. Like gnats to a flame, the camera lens attracts every single model and wannabe model into the frame, and they pretend to be laughing and cheering. Go greens! someone shrieks, except the colors of the teams playing are yellow and blue.

"What do you think Nads?" Freya asks, when the coach sends in the new batter.

"Well with the number of overs remaining, he'll need to pull off some miracles, so it seems unlikely. But if he gets an fours or sixes we're screwed." Sure enough, the coach from our side swaps out the unpredictable fast bowler with the slow and steady old timer. Good strategy.

I go back to chomping down my nachos - which are my absolute vice - but then some other muscled bare chested oaf blocks my view. Saba grabs some of Zain's popcorn and chucks it at him "Hey dude, I think I saw the fashion editor back there, did Sal introduce you to her?" Saba says. Muscle man looks confused, but heads towards Sal standing in the other direction, anyway. 

My phone buzzes in my back pocket, making me jump. With dread I see it's the ops lead. Freya gives me a WTF look when I take it. There is so much noise, I can't hear a damn thing, so I try to tell her to message. By the time I open my phone, I can see the 500+ unread messages on the Slack channel, so can already feel something is wrong. 

I jump up, accidently bumping the nachos. Freya jumps back, "What the fuck Nadias!" 

"Sorry babe, work" I call over my shoulder, as I run towards the exit hallway so I can get a pocket of silence. An usher at the entrance to the area takes ages to open the little gate, but by the time I reach the causeway and pull out my headphones, the ops lead has already sent me the Zoom link to join. 

I connect with a beep, and note with satisfaction that ops has already looped in engineering, DevOps, and customer success on the call. Good girl ops, must give her raise. It's still noisy in the causeway, but I notice a discreet glass door which seems to have some sort of enclosed area that looks like it will have better acoustics. I make my way there but another usher materializes and stops me asking for a ticket. I hold up a finger.

"10x!? Who the fuck did the forecasts!" I kick off with a whisper yell behind my hand, trying not to let the usher hear. There is sheepish silence. "Ok ok, 10x customers is a good thing, but really someone go back and kick the ass of whichever kid did that stupid mistake, and I'm personally going to kick the ass of the person who signed off on that. What is the solution."

I lower my voice and hiss the last bit, because a bunch of men in business suits emerge from one of the rooms and walk past me. I ride on their literal coat tails and slide past the usher into the mercifully quiet hallway. They move on and beep themselves into one of the rooms. VIP boxes no doubt.

Used to me, the head of engineering ignores my outburst, and with German coolness and efficiency shows the API latency and rate limits in a live graph.

"Holy shit did you make a live ticker of the latency!" the head of ops exclaims in awe, but only gets a slight close lipped smile. 

"We are at 90% utilization. We can stabilize by doubling our production capacity, but it'll increase our cloud spend."

Another door opens, and a waiter comes out carrying some champagne and shrimp. He side eyes me, but lets me be as he walks past and goes into a room close to me. I say a silent prayer he thinks I'm from in there and doesn't kick me out.

"Hell no, I'm not paying $8000 to scale this cluster" I try to say it as firmly but quietly as possible, because I am someone is going to find me here and kick me out any second. 

Customer success goes a little purple "We knew this was a risk with such a large enterprise customer, I'm ok with throttling the free tier customers, but if the complaints keep coming in I will insist we pay for more compute.

A door opens behind me, and I turn quickly so it looks like I am on my way out. Relieved we have a good solution. "Yes! Great solution. Throttle the free tier first. If latency doesn't recover, scale the production cluster. Keep the incremental cloud spend under $10k. Once we're through this, we're implementing proper rate limits by customer tier." 

I hang up, close my eyes and lean against the wall and take a deep breath. That was close.

"Cloud spend is a bitch huh" says an amused baritone. 

Startled, my eyes fly open and I jump, dislodging my ear pod which flies off onto the carpet. Yuck. "Holy shit D! you gave me a heart attack. Where did you come from!?" I clutch my chest, and lean back on the wall, not really joking about my heart racing. 

He picks up the ear pod, rubs it on his shirt, and hands it back to me. He leans his arm against the wall, and I am awash in his cologne "I saw you guys on the jumbotron! And then I had to duck out for a call and there you were. Are you taking a work call during the biggest match of the year? Should I call Freya and tell her" he asks teasingly.

"What are you doing out in a hallway during the biggest match of the year" I ask right back.

He gestures to his own phone and laughs. "They got a six, our odds are fucked" 

"How on earth did they pull that off! Noooooo."

"I know right! No one inside got it." He then sneaks a look over his shoulder to make sure no one else is in the hallway and leans forward and conspiratorially whispers close to my ear "I needed to escape my colleagues. VC guys are the worst" he says with a mock shudder.

Hilarity bubbles up from inside "You do know what you do, right" I point out with a whisper, and we both burst out laughing but quickly muffle it as a waiter emerges from the service area again with yet another tray of champagne, and this time with two plates of lobster. We both step back a bit. 

"Do you want to come in to our box" he asks, he head nods to the room door, which undoubtedly has some uber luxurious over the top obnoxiousness. 

"And hang out with your colleagues? Gross!" I joke. "Why don't you join us?"

He again looks over his shoulder to make sure his colleagues haven't suddenly teleported out of the box to overhear us, and says in a shushed voice "Best offer I've had all day", and grabs my elbow like he's afraid I'm going to change my mind, and hustles me out.

*

An usher is standing officiously, deadpan. "Sir, you don't have tickets to this area, I cannot let you in" he says, politely, yet firmly, his pimply youthful face belying the absolute finality which brooks no dispute. 

Danial simply puts two fingers to his lips, and does a loud whistle to hail Sal "Yo Sal!" he says loudly, giving a second whistle, startling the usher but getting through the noise to get Sal's attention. 

"Yo Deeeeeeee" Sal says, pointing a finger at D. "My maaaaaannn." Some heads turns to look. 

"You guys want to go hang out in my VIP room?" Danial yells out to the box.

The box erupts in cheers. Tall, impossibly beautiful people trip over themselves to jump over the seating rows to exit to higher echelons of society. Danial hands Sal a black keycard, and takes his ticket in exchange. 

"You'll notice models and VCs guys all really get along, very similar cocaine habits," he says in my ear, deadpan. I laugh and look over, but he is expressionless, so I'm not sure he's even joking when he says it.

He triumphantly shows the ticket to the usher, who steps back reluctantly, and laughing we join Freya, Zain, and Saba to whoops of hilarity.

*

The stadium jumps up and erupts in cheers as the game ends. We won! The confetti is streaming down, the roar of a 10,000 people screaming is deafening. We are screaming ourselves hoarse, laughing, cheering, hugging. People are throwing cups, flags, the  stadium is a sea of lights of cell phones flashing. Saba is crying with happiness, and Zain is pumping his fist in the air. Freya jumps on Zain's back, and laughing they topple happily into a crowd of celebrators. Somewhere a hapless microphone is saying something no one can hear, as players, spectators and team members collapse on the ground cheering. What a win!

"Can you believe that finish!" I shriek. Danial has both arms up in the air, and a flag seems to have appeared in his hands as he's pumping it up and down.

Everyone around us is hugging, chest bumping and back thumping. He comes up to me, and I lean in for a hug while we jump like lunatics, laughing. He grabs me, and then twirls and dips me to the ground with the theatrical flourish, and we burst out laughing.

 

*

The high stays with us as we finally make our way out the stadium. There are really long lines backed up out the exits, so Danial gets us into the VIP parking which has a dedicated elevator which helps bypass the lines.

We're a lot quieter in the dim lighting of the multistory car park. Zain has his arm casually wrapped around Saba. We reach a ramp, and we all pause. 

"We're going to head out that way" Zain says. "Thanks man" he head nods D, and Saba gives a little wave of thanks as they turn.

Freya and I hesitate. "I'll drop you guys off?" Danial says.

I look at Freya and shrug, I don't have an opinion either way. "Oh I'm waaayy out of your way" she's absolutely lying, and grinning completely unabashed as she says it, "I'll hitch a ride with those two". She gives us the usual goodbye hugs and runs off to join them.

"Well that was blatantly obvious." I groan.

"I'd say she was being a good wingman."

"To you or me!?" I splutter.

"Me of course" he says gallantly, eyes crinkling, opening the door for me. 

A wave of fatigue crashes over me, the day catching up. There will be a ton of emails I have to get through, the agreement that I still haven't had time to approve and the invoices I had to sign. I close my eyes and lay back, the deafening silence unbearably comforting. Danial opens his door with a crack, breaking the peace, and starts the car.

"You want to grab something to eat?" He asks

"Oh I'm beat. Raincheck?"

"Of course"

We sit in companiable silence, I am way too knackered. I feel my eyes start to shut, and jerk awake a couple of times. 

I don't even realize when I fall asleep, but he nudges my shoulder to wake me up, "Hey sleepy head, you're home" he says in a quiet voice.

Shit I've been drooling. I look over in horror, and he's grinning from ear to ear.

"You were snoring" he says with glee.

I'm exhausted, a little ruffled, and a little irritated. "Well glad we jumped straight to friendzone then" I snipe, about the get out of the car.

"Friendzone! Wait whaaaattttt" he protests, backpedaling. 

I grab the handle and maneuver out. "Thank you for the ride btw. And it's always freaky how we manage to always bump into each other"

"Wait N!" He jumps out of the car and come to where I'm standing. His hair is sticking up adorably everywhere, and he looks rumpled for the first time I've seen him. Someone's painted stripes on his cheeks like war paint, and it throws his cheekbones into striking contrast. "It's like our paths are fated to cross! You can't friendzone me, not when I'm finally official single!"

"What? When?" 

"We signed yesterday"

"Yesterday! You were married till yesterday!?"

"We were in arbitration on the assets, it became a thing. But remember when I said I was going through some shit? It's resolved now!"

Yeah when I was trying to kiss you and you repelled me like an insect. I know if it's just the fatigue but I'm suddenly really angry at him. What did he think he'd just snap a finger and I'd come running!? The audacity. 

"Look I can't deal with this today, but the fact you just signed yesterday is nuts. You need to sort yourself out, it's going to be a difficult time and jumping into a relationship is a terrible idea."

He looks so confused and flustered, like I've completely blindsided him. My anger just dissipates, and only tiredness remains.

"I don't understand. I thought we had a thing going"

"A thing? A thing where you tell me you can't be with me? But then we still hang out all the time and have all these cute little romantic moments while you're still married? That thing?"

"I - I think I may not have explained properly.."

"Yes, you didn't. You didn't say anything other that explicitly state that we didn't have a thing!" And then for no reason at all, I burst out crying. Shit, what a fucking emotionally stunted reaction.

He's aghast. The car is still running. He takes a step towards me but freezes when I hold my hand up. I angrily wipe my stupid tears away. 

"Human to human - you need to heal and get your shit together post divorce. You need to live alone and do therapy and be there for your kids. Don't jump into another thing immediately,  you will do no one any favors"

He scrubs a hand over his face. "I have no idea how I fucked this up."

"I am way too exhausted to do this, look me up whenever you're ready to talk."

*

Seagulls and a shockingly loud fishing boat I can hear 20 stories up wake me up. I roll over to check the time, but my phone has died. I bolt awake, frantically stumble over to my desk and turn on the laptop screen. Fuck. I've missed my alarms and my morning check-in. Fuck fuck fuck.

I plug my phone in, and call the head of engineering from my laptop. She picks up on the first ring. 

"I vas going to call the paramedics, but I don't think your city has them" she starts

"I'm fine, I just overslept, had a long day yesterday"

There is dead silence. "You!? You overslept? In a bed!?"

"Yes yes, and I'm sorry! I'm feeling terrible. OH i can see you've emailed your update."

"Ya, I assumed you were in a coma or something but I sent the updates via emails anyway, you can just read and respond when you have a chance"

"Bless you, thank you, I'm going to go sort my phone out" i can hear a ton of ping ping pings interspersed by buzzes. 

I leave it on my desk though, and go back and collapse onto the pillows. A second later, the bell rings. I freeze.

Then it rings again and again, peppered by knocks, with an obnoxiousness that can only be Freya.

"I'm coming, I'm coming, Jesus Christ"

A frazzled Freya stands there, "Thank fuck, I thought you were dead"

"What!? Why!?"

"You have sent me 100 reels at the crack of fucking dawn for the last ten yrs bitch. You didn't even pick up the phone, and Danial was being so weird I didn't know what to think!" She doesn't come in, and starts walking back down the hallway towards the elevators.

"Wait what. Where are you going!?"

"I'm late! You're on the way to work so thought I'd stop by and see that you're still breathing. Also, don't look at Sal's Insta, we'll need to be together to do that" she says cryptically as she disappears.

What? 

I obviously grab my phone immediately and go to Sal's Insta. He was at some post game party last night. Holy shit all the players were there. I recognize the model also. The whole crowd seems familiar. And then there is is. At around min two of one of the reels, there is Dani. He has an arm around some six foot waif, and she's leaning over whispering in his ear. He's flushed, eyes unnatural, like he's high. And in about three seconds seconds, he's gone swallowed by the crowd.

Well I guess I did tell him to handle his shit, I suppose this is him handling it. 

The pinging phone distracts me, and I have to run to grab the call before I miss yet another meeting.

*

I enter the elevator to get to the gym on the twentieth floor, typically I would avoid these expensive coed ones but this is city and it's broken shitty roads that take unnecessarily long to go anywhere, and this is literally 90 seconds from my house, and I'm not going to go out of my way to do something I loathe. So I suck it up, shifting uncomfortably pulling my t-shirt down to cover my butt as I pass the security guard. 

I emerge and nothing, I mean nothing, beats the view. miles of concrete jungle, stretching into the horizon, soaring with the eagles. I'm momentarily distracted by a twenty year old doing squats in her sports bra and what can only be described as underwear. The boy cut kind I liked to buy in middle school. I glare at the desk attendant who is staring at her through the glass doors, standing slack jawed ogling her bottom, but he has the courtesy to notice my pointed look and avoid my eye and appears fixated by his feet as he beeps me in. 

The trainer is waiting. I would have preferred a woman, but he was the only trained physiotherapist. Thirty year old gym bro trainers are someone I would typically avoid like the plague. Even with this one, I had to explain all the medical stuff three times, and he didn't quite take me seriously till I literally brought my x-rays and had my doc speak to him. Now he is super careful, and actually listens when I tell him not to push it. In fact he's more cautious then I am sometimes, and I caught him sweating in apprehension the last time I tried one of the more advanced stretches.

I discuss the plan for the session (he's recommending extending the core exercises), and then warm up with a run. Never ever thought I could pull that off with my joints, but the miracle of modern medicine, apparently running is now good for middle aged women.

So I'm red, sweating ungracefully, in my voluminous t-shirt, panting like I'm having an angina episode, when of course he walks in. Breathe. Focus. A memory bubbles up, him lighting a cigarette, smiling at me. Stop it! Leaning next to me outside the VIP rooms, looking at me like I'm the hottest thing he's ever seen. It meant nothing to him you fool. He's on this weird post divorce cliche, hooking up with a bloody model like a fucking walking midlife crisis. I wish I'd worn a nicer t-shirt. This one keeps fucking falling off my shoulder showing the ratty sports bra straps. I've even used it to blow my nose 5 minutes ago.

I see in the mirror that he clocks me almost instantly and freezes, pole axed. Someone bumps into him from behind and jostles him out of his double take. He looks like he's about to come over. I try to make the unfriendliest expression I can muster, but underwear girls squeals a hello grabs his arm and pulls him in the other direction. Good. Fuck him.

I'm doing floor work on a yoga mat, surreptitiously ducking behind the low wall where the weights are stacked, trying to muffle the ungodly grunts that the weighted leg lifts squeeze out of me. I have so far managed to stay out of his eyeline, hopefully for the full session. I swat the trainers hands away as they hover solicitously near my back, one of the unfortunate side effects of him knowing the number of rods in there. "You can do it ma'am, just 40 more", he says cheerily, and I want to kill him.

At the 30th rep, I stumble because my knee gives up a bit. Maybe the hip, hard to tell where it starts sometimes. The trainer has a heart attack trying to grab my elbow, but he misses and I become completely unstable, stumbling past the weight wall straight into two people standing next to it. Shit. It's sports bra chick who had been effortlessly out squatting me, and, fuck me sideways it's him. Shit shit shit shit. 

They both turn looking concerned, and the entire gym seems to stop. They're peering down at me, concerned. "Omg it is you! I was wondering if I had hallucinated you!", he says. "Are you ok!" Sports bra girl asks at the same time, her voice is husky like a singer.  

"Sorry! I'm ok! Hello!" I say from the floor. And for reasons unknown to god or man, lying there winded on the filthy gym mats, hair askew, knee on fire, in a sweaty obscene mess, I crack up laughing. Like a fucking lunatic.

She looks at me quizzically, gives him a WTF look, but then helps me up and smiles good naturedly. The trainer comes over and retrieves the errant kettle bell that caused the issue. Sports bra goes back to her reps. The gym goes back to normal. 

He and I are still standing there, awkward as fuck. He discreetly looks at me, stripping me down to my soul like he always does. He takes in my red sweaty face, ratty t-shirt and has the audacity to get that look. The one where he makes me feel special. Hell no.

"How is A doing," I smile and ask cheerily about the model from Sal's Instagram, and that knocks the smile off his face. I watch the comment land, and he looks gutted. Shit I feel bad. 

"Oh, she's ok. I think anyway" He's blinking rapidly, a little choked up. He hesitates, and then lowers his voice. "We - we - nothing happened. I was..." he trails off when he meets my eyes, his courage apparently failing unable to complete the sentence. 

I resist the urge to jump in and fill the silence.

He looks up at me again, and then shakes his head as if to clear it. "I'm just gym buddying with my friend from work", and he jerks his head towards underwear girl. Of course he is. That fucker. I can't help but glance over, and I know there is no way my body - the one that's churned out another human - can hold a candle to her midriff. He looks a little uncomfortable seeing my expression, as if suddenly realizing what I must be thinking. He opens his mouth to say something, but I huff and wave him sway, mumbling about cradle snatching and go back to the trainer who's now holding a lighter weight and my knee brace. Damnit.

*

I'm still in the damn knee brace when I'm rooting around the locker. They had kindly given me the ones closer to the floor once they realized with my height, I couldn't reach the top level, but it's super awkward trying to pull my gym bag out with 40 yr old knees and I spill stuff out. The guy with the locker above mine of course approaches at that minute. I am at sock level. A lipstick had rolled over to his shoe. He bends down and picks it up, and crouches down to help. I look up gratefully into beautiful brown eyes. Oh for fucks sake.

He blinks rapidly, and I realize I said the last bit out loud. He looks down at me at his feet and smiles his beautiful sweet open honest smile, and just looks so... happy... to see me. The fucker.

Of course he's been given the locker above mine. 

And that moment, with my sweat filled work out clothes, my shirt falling off my shoulder, hair in a French braid, on my bloody knees on a floor with all my stuff strewn around me, he's looking at me like I'm the most beautiful thing he's ever seen. Fuck, I feel my cheeks heat up because of his proximity. I try to take a deep breath to get a grip, to step back, but all I get is a wave of that damn cologne of his, and my mind reels unable to think. I put my hand on the floor to brace myself, I think I'm going to keel over.

He holds my elbow and gets me up, and it feels like a hot coal has touched me. I flinch, and my body ignites in flame. He is oblivious, picking up the pieces of my bag strewn around us. 

My throat has slammed shut and I can't say anything. He's at my feet. I'm going to scream. He didn't call. I'm going to cry. He's hanging out with hot skinny 20 yr old's. My skin is on fire. I can't breathe. You never meant anything to him. 

He's putting the stuff into my open gym bag. He looks up at me, and my heart twists. Every defense gone. He didn't even call.

Oblivious, he's now done picking up my bag. When I don't put my hand out to hold it, he awkwardly puts it on my shoulder. Cross body, how I always do it. We are standing way way too close, but I can't help it. It's like he has some sort of gravitational force field. He's this black hole and I'm the star going nova, about to be sucked in. His eyes. Chocolate. So sweet. They have so much hope. So much regret. I'm drowning in his eyes.  

He raises his hand like he's going to touch me, but catches himself and stops.

I hear the shuffle of footsteps approaching and we both jump back guiltily.

I don't even thank him. I don't even try to keep my dignity. I just turn and run.

***

The Club

I'm wearing a plunging black dress with a long V that narrows down to the waist, my hair is in waves, and my skyscraper heels make me reach Sal's shoulder. Good, safe, boring, sweet Sal who clearly didn't feel much for me other than friendship and camaraderie. I had splurged on this designer dress, retail therapy for feeling shitty about Dani. Somewhere, a cold dark flame is burning inside me, searing me from within. Part of the reason I had impulsively said yes to Sal. Freya had mentioned Danial was also coming, and was waiting for us inside. My treacherous heart stumbles at the thought. Will he still be on his infantile kick, dating bimbos and getting high.

We walk into the crowd, and I instantly hate the place. The music is too loud, the ventilation too poor, the place too dark. yikes. I look for escape routes, and mentally start a count down to when I will say the Irish goodbye and leave. Fifteen minutes?

Sal, happily oblivious, is in his element. A hostess leads us all to a velvet rope enclosed area, where we are instantly served some champagne and wait staff present us with finger food. Except it's a club, so it's uncomfortably dark, so I don't even know how anyone knows what they're eating. I scan the crowd. No Dani, thank God. They are all in their element, a group of uncomfortably beautiful people shriek at a song and go rush to the dance floor. A paparazzi has snuck in to take their picture, but is almost instantly thrown out by a businesslike bouncer in a suit. 

I decide to sit on the low sofa - too low it'll be a bloody bitch to climb out of -  and Sal thumps down happily next to me. He is too close. He puts an arm casually around the back of the seat, behind my shoulders but not really touching me. I realize too late we're the only ones in the little alcove. 

I am about to squirm out and make an excuse to get up, but the sofa is swallowing me, and that allows Sal time to lean into my ear and yell "You look really hot tonight babe."

His sweet sincere grey green eyes have no artifice in them. I know he is super smart, warm, kind, funny, easy going. Available. I really should be thrilled he seemed to want to break out of the casual friendship we had going. I can't do this. I have to stop it now. I turn and gently tug his arm out from behind me, and then pat his hand and return it to his lap. 

His brow furrows a little bit. I lean back to his ear. "You know you're a really great guy right" I yell. Goddamn music is deafening.

To his credit, understanding dawns immediately, and I don't need to continue. He smiles wryly, and shrugs and holds his hands up. "Can't blame a guy for trying" he laughs. I return the smile. 

We shift a little away, putting a foot of space between us. "Do you want some champagne?" he says, gesturing with a glass. 

Relieved, I smile and enthusiastically take it. We both stand up, and clink. "Let's keep hanging out like this, yeah? You and Free and nuts fun to be around" 

"Yes!" 

He looks around - for escape probably - and I gesture that I'm heading to the bathroom. I glance back, and he's standing alone near the velvet rope, hands in his pockets, looking out on the floor. One of the girls from the group dances over and drags him into the fray.

***

The bathroom is in a corridor of blissful silence. My tinnitus is triggered, and I try to hum and tap the base on my skull trying to get the ringing out of my ear, and I get an odd look from a woman exiting a stall. The bathroom has a grotto like black marbled interior. The floor length mirror reveals me - Freya did a fantastic job on my makeup, my skin looks like its luminescent. I should ask her what it is and buy it. I love the dress. It's sexy as hell, and makes me feel powerful, but it's held together by literal tape, else the neckline would gape open to a terrible wardrobe malfunction. I wish I was in bed in my pajamas reading a book.

I exit, wondering how soon I can leave without offending anyone, but also not wanting to go back to the obnoxiously loud dance floor. Like manna from heaven, I see a waiter exit a door with a tray. It has glass walls all along one side, and seems to hold sort of black felt pool table. If it has a sofa I need to crash there for 10 minutes, and then leave.   

I enter, and almost cry with relief with I spot the sofa. Then I freeze.

The room has dim recessed lighting, revealing one occupant at the pool table. He has his strong back to me, his white button down shirt pulling over his shoulders as he leans forward to line up the cue to hit some balls. He is alone, a cold glass the waiter must have just brought sitting on the rim of the table. 

"Dani?" I ask incredulously. Am I hallucinating. He's still in a suit, but he's thrown his blazer onto the sofa, his sleeves are rolled up. He looks painfully handsome.

He turns, and visibly stiffens, and flinches when he sees me. "Nadia?" He takes takes a step forward and puts his cue stick on the table, sounding baffled.

I open my mouth to try to explain I'm just looking for a quiet place to sit for five minutes, but the words die in my throat. He recovers quickly from the surprise of my arrival, his gaze on my face, but the line on his jaw is unfriendly and the muscle in his temple ticks.  

I don't know what to make of it. Is he angry? I can't say anything, because of it's own volition, my mind betrays me and the memory of our kiss hits me, making my throat seize and my heart race. I feel overwhelmed by him.  I know what he tastes like. 

I look down at the ground so my face doesn't betray my thoughts.

The door clicks shut behind me, making me start. "I'm just here to..."

"Let me guess" He crosses his arms, his shoulders stiff. He leans against the pool table. "Your level of interest in me has... changed." His gaze is hard. Unfriendly. What is going on.

"What"

"You've changed your mind about me" he says, flatly, his eyes hard and emotionless.

I'm feeling flustered. What on earth. "No I just wanted to escape for five minutes" I hate that I'm stuttering.

 "Nice dress" he scoffs, his eyes flicking down, lingering a bit on the heels. 

I glance down, tugging at the neckline. "Thanks, I just bought it on impulse."

His eyes have followed my hands fiddling with the uncomfortably deep neckline, lingering at the pale skin showing in the vee between my chest, shamelessly resting there.

I take a slow breath, trying to steady my rioting thoughts. I'm confused. His hostility is unnerving. The way he's looking at me, like he wants to devour me, making my heart thump. I teeter literally and figuratively.

"Listen" I say, my jaw a little clenched. "I meant what I said when I told you to take some time to recover from your divorce."

His eyes flicker to mine. He's standing in front me now. "The lawyers spent fourteen fucking months untangling everything. Do you even know what it's like to get strangled because the process is so slow. I had to go through valuations and revaluations, disclosures, fucking discoveries. All I wanted was for it to fucking end, and nothing - nothing I did would make it go faster."

My mouth opens, and closes like a dying fish. Embarrassment flushes my entire body. "No, I wasn't aware." I say in a small voice. My chest hurts a little. I study his face. His cheekbones are thrown in stark relief with the overhead lighting. His square jaw is shadowed, his fists clenched. Ugly shame rises like bile in my throat. 

"The one thing that got me through the hell, was you."

I stumble back, my knees weak, bumping into the door. "Me?" His eyes are guarded, but I see the desperation in his expression. I avert my eyes, my voice a little strained. "But you didn't want to kiss me."

His eyes dip to my mouth, and his voice is soft. "Nadia"

My eyes instinctively go back to his. "Why" I ask.

"You have fantastic lips"

"You didn't want to kiss me because I have fantastic lips" I ask, confused.

"And your crazy smart brain. The shit you're doing with your work, so bad ass." his voice was a whisper, almost like he was talking to himself.

I clear my throat, not sure what to say. Is he angry at me? Or not? 

"That dress is the hottest fucking thing I've ever seen on you. But you always look hot. Even when you've been crying in a meeting in the middle of work." He's lifted his hand to feather over my bare arms, raising goosebumps, 

"You've tortured me, everywhere I go I look for you. I find myself texting Freya asking her where you'll be so I can bump into you."

My voice is breathless. "I knew it was too weird to be a coincidence". The tightness is my chest grows, my stomach twisting, my breath shallow and fast. My brain isn't working because he's muddling it.

"But you're dating my friend" he breathes out angrily. His hands lean on the door behind me. His eyes close, and he shudders out a breath. He leans his forehead on mine and sighs.

My body freezes and my eyes widen. "Who?" Oh shit he thinks I'm dating Sal. "Err if you mean Sal, then no, we're just friends. I made that clear just today actually."

"Is it terrible that I would have kissed you even if you hadn't just told me that" his hand is on my waist, he dips his head, and places a soft chaste kiss on my lips. Like he's just feeling their softness. 

My hands lift automatically to his shirt to hold him there. "We're in a room with a glass wall-"  

"I don't care" he kisses me again, and shifts his weight, crowding me. Every sense is overwhelmed by him, his cologne, his hot and hard body against mine, the taste of his mouth, the low groan at the back of his throat when our tongues finally meet.

He draws his mouth from mine briefly "I have waited way too long for this. Spend the night with me" 

I blink, and start to protest - "This isn't.." 

He kisses me again, putting my arms around his neck, and then his hands move to my ribs and his palm cups me through my dress. his thumb, drawing tight circles around the center. 

"Say it, spend the night with me" he growls.

I can just moan at the onslaught.

He bites my lip, and sucks it between his. 

"You're so fucking beautiful" the words are wrenched from him. He trails hot wet kisses up to my neck to my ear "Say yes." he whispers into the shell of my ear, causing me to have a full body shudder.

"Dee.." is all I could manage to choke out. the hard length against my stomach meant I wasn't the only one so aroused.

"Please" he breathes into my ear, and I am undone.

"Yes"

He smiles against my skin and stops talking, moving his hands from their shockingly effective ministrations encircling me in his arms, his mouth moving back to mine. This time his kiss is slow, less urgent. 

"Wait!" I manage to get a grip and put my fingers between our mouths and physically separate us.

I turn him around so he's leaning on the door. My hand is still on his lips. I need to think for a second. "Dee - we need to do this properly. We need to take this in the right order." My voice is a little hoarse, I clear my throat. "We haven't even gone out on a date, let alone hang out together alone."

He opens his mouth to protest, but I cut him off before his honey tongued words fog up my mind again. "Not in a big group or coincidentally bumping into each other." I remove my hand and take a step back. 

His collar is awry and he has my lipstick all over him. He looks mutinous, a little frustrated. He takes a long deep breath, closes his eyes, and then leans back on the door. "You're killing me here."

I pat his cheek with a smile. "That's the fun bit isn't it. Dinner tomorrow?"

He stands up, calculating. "Ok but we do this my way."

"I wouldn't have it any other way."

***

The hot flush hits at the worst possible time. I'm in an online meeting getting the sales update, but I'm also checking an overdue client report, but I'm also waiting for the legal temp to call me from the notary office once he has the stamp paper. I need to get ice water to quench the fires of hell that have erupted inside me, but Ive been trapped in my seat for the last 90 minutes. My stress levels are at defcon 1, when my phone vibrates. Finally. One the agreement is signed, we'll have another enterprise client under our belt, and hopefully get some funding to release the hellish cash crunch we're in right now. 

"Hello" 

I'm startled by the extremely sexy voice at the other end. It is definitely not the legal temp, his nasal whine grating on every last nerve.

"Hi - I'm sorry I don't have your number saved, who is this?" I try not to sound too irritated. Who the fuck calls someone for the first time without spitting out the name and organization.

"Hey it's Dani. I've clearly caught you at a bad time. Just save my number, I'll text you details about our date."

I'm dumbfounded. "Dani?" I say slowly, not understanding. How the hell does he sound even sexier on the phone. How had I never noticed his radio voice.

"Yes, Free gave your number, she said it was ok to reach out directly. You know, since you agreed to sleep with me I thought it would be ok to give you a call" he's sounding amused, but a little irritated as well.

"One second." I unmute my Zoom call and tell them to pause the meeting for 2 minutes.

"Hi!" I say. I fix my hair, but then stop myself. He's called me, he can't see me!

His laugh rumbles across the airwaves. "Hi back at you"

"Date?" Great I've lost the ability to speak more than two words at the same time.

"I'll need you for a day"

"A DAY" I squawk. "One entire day. Like 24 hours?! For one date? No that's.... can't happen!"

"Look I have to go on my crazy regional visits, so I'll be out for the next two weeks. I can take you tomorrow evening, and have you back the next." 

"Where!?" 

"We can go back to my boat?"

"In the UAE!? In another country!? Absa-fucking-lutely not! Let's just grab a sandwich from somewhere and be done with it! I can send you my calendar, you can book a 60 minute slot that suits your schedule"

"Your calendar?" He says it slowly, sounding baffled.

"Yes! Text me your email, I'll send it over. I have to go back to my meeting now. Cheers!"

"Wait!" he's laughing.

I shake my head. "What!" Is he insane. 

"6 hours. Give me that at least"

I grin despite myself. "2" 

"Let's call it at 4. I'll make it worth your while"

"Ew you better not be talking about sex."

"Well I wasn't but if that's what you want..."

"Ugh are you 15 years old. I'm hanging up now."

"See you at 7 tomorrow"

"Fine"

I'm grinning like an insane person and have to pause to fix my face before i open my camera and unmute for the zoomc all. It's only till later in the afternoon that I realize I didn't ask him what and where we're going.

***

Freya is on a video call with me in the bathroom. "The green is so much more versatile babe, wear that."

"It's shorts" I tug off the dress and pull on the outfit she just made me take off a minute ago. The closet is strewn with clothes as I've frantically over thought my outfit.

"It's a designer skort ok, and anything that makes your thighs look good will work" she's cooking breakfast from another time zone, the sunlight streaming in to her kitchen as she helps me decide what outfit to wear.

"But the wedges, i refuse to kill myself in stilettos." I pull out a pair of sensible platform wedges.

"Ugh where is your sense of sexy romance" she shakes her head at me as she pours out some freshly squeezed orange juice.

"It died with my knee pain bitch"

*

I answer the call on the first ring, but grimace as the shoulder twinges in pain. God damn trainer, I had told him that weight was too much. I want to kill him. I still have to do my eyeliner, and my hair is in rollers. I walk out of the bathroom and make my way to the living room so I can prop up my phone and do my makeup at the same time. The head of ops answers with her clipped voice. "I've been waiting for your approval for three hours now, needed you to give me the goahead to push the last update to prod."

"Ugh you know I hate doing this. Are you sure it's stable" I quickly review the screenshared logs, and then quickly swipe the liner on. It takes two or three tries but I finally get it. I notice the time, and curse because I know Danial will be here any minute and I'm not ready. I quickly try to do the second eye and curse when it goes on too thick.

"Tests are clean" I hear her hesitate. "Rollback is on a single switch if needed" she adds. Good girl.

Sure enough, I hear a knock on the door. I open it to find a devastatingly handsome Danial standing there in his dark wash jeans and dark blue polo. Be still my heart. I make a finger on lips gesture and point to the phone. He lifts a single eyebrow, then eyes my rollers, the makeup bag on the foyer table, the ongoing call and holds his hands up and nods at me to keep going. He closes the door and comes and stands behind me as I step back up to the foyer table. I catch his eye in the mirror, and see him watching me with curiosity not annoyance at the tardiness, and I smile in gratitude. I bite my lip, trying to ignore my shoulder, and grab my eyeliner again, and hit unmute. "Where is that edge case? Can you screenshare and show me the logs again? Are we losing money or just the data." I frown a little trying to steady my hand, and dutifully add the final swipe of the liner and then add the blush. I glance over at the table of numbers, checking the deltas. They seem to be within a reasonable margin of error.

"It was just the data, but I've created a catchall loop in case that happens again." Maya is speaking, but I am hyper aware of Dani, standing behind me. I can smell his cologne and take a deep inhale and close my eyes. I am so tired.

"Ok fine, let's ship it." A wave of exhaustion rolls over me, but I know I've minimized the risk to the best we can.

"To everyone?"

"Yes." I hang up, and see Danial watching me highly amused for some reason. Is it my rollers? I self consciously turn to the mirror and quickly try to unfurl the rollers. I shouldn't have let him in, why didn't I start getting dressed earlier. "Sorry about this, we had this stupid error we were trying to fix before we rolled out the new update." I wince a little as my shoulder whinges in protest at my movements.

"Don't worry about it. What happened to your shoulder?" Danial reaches up and puts his hands on my shoulders and starts gently massaging. 

"Tweaked it at the gym, I'll be fine." I continue to undo the rollers, but have to close my eyes for a second at the sheer bliss of Dani's hands spreading warmth all down my neck and back. A wave of exhaustion lurks underneath, and I quickly have to open my eyes again before I fall asleep standing up.

"You look great" his voice is a little husky. His massage gentles into a blissful scratch, going in circles from the center of my back out to my shoulders and arms, leaving a trail of goosebumps. I suck in a breath and my body arches towards him. I can feel his hard body brushing against my back and it takes a lot of will power to not just lean back and just close my eyes and rest. I stay upright, but with effort.

"Errrmph" I clear my throat so I can get my brain started again. "We should get moving, I'll just pass out here otherwise." I say wryly. I meet his dark eyes in the foyer mirror, they look thoughtful. His hands are resting on my hip.

"Are you...tired?" he asks, slowly, like he's treading dangerous waters.

Puzzled, I turn around to see if he's serious. He is. "Hah. I'm always tired. I'm always 5 minutes away from collapsing exhausted."

 His brow furrows. "Since when"

"1999 probably" I say with a laugh. "It's not a big deal, c'mon."

He's looking at me steadily, not moving, thoughtful. I still as well, confused. "Tell me something" he says, slowly.

I look up at him. It's a small entryway, he's crowded up in my personal space. He looks serious, and then asks "If you had to decide what to do tonight, what would you want to do?"

"That's easy. Hang out on the couch, and sleep early!" I quip, only half joking.

"Let's do that then"

"Seriously?" I ask incredulously, secretly thrilled at the idea. I try to consider arguments otherwise - I'm dressed up. Us together at home seems like a dangerous idea. But the yearning to just collapse on the nearest horizontal surface wins. But then I'm struck suddenly with doubt. "Are you sure? I hope I'm not ruining your carefully laid plans."

"My only plans were for you to have a good time. And if chilling at home is what you want, I can live with that. Let's hit the best sofa in the world and watch a movie."

I think I love him.

*

The sunlight - as always - offensively hits my closed eyes and still manages to wake me. I really need to close the bloody curtains before I sleep. I feel an alien sense of warmth behind me, and a feeling of utter bliss. I feel rather than hear the snore vibrating behind me, and it startles me completely awake. What the fudge. 

I open my eyes. Sofa. I'm on my sofa. Danial is behind me. Holy shit. His hard body is wrapping me in a cocoon that seems to perfectly fit my body. I never want to move. 

Last night, I passed out almost as soon as the movie started. I was lying horizontal with my calves in Dani's lap. How on earth did I sleep through the entire night. The credits were rolling, and I think I tried to get up, but noticed that Danial was asleep as well! I had closed the TV, and pulled him down to me. This is my fault completely. 

Somewhere in the middle of the night, he had stripped off his jeans and shirt, and I was now lying down in his arms. Holy smokes. I am suddenly aware that my legs are wrapped around his, with an insistent appendage nudging my backside.

I feel rather than see him wake up. His snoring stills, and his arms tighten but then immediately unwrap and let go when he gains consciousness. I give him a minute. Dear God this is awkward af. I should have rolled out as soon as I woke up and avoided this situation.

"It's like I can hear you silently freaking out in your mind" says an amused voice in my ear.

No avoiding this, might as well face it. I turn to face him, using his bicep as a pillow.

"Good morning." I see the sleep clear a little from his eyes, and a slow smile blossoms on his face. That special one.

"Hello. I like waking up to you like this." His voice is all rumbly, half asleep. I don't think I've seen anything sexier.

"Well I didn't expect to wake up to you like this." I can't help retorting. Our lips are so close. 

"You did insist I stay" he grins. "Begged me almost." His five o'clock shadow makes his face even more appealing somehow. I notice tiny crows feet around this eyes that I had never noticed before.

"I'm pretty sure our deal was for four hours." I arch an eyebrow. Our bodies are still slack from sleep, melted together as we are enmeshed in each others limbs. 

"Does this mean we can skip three dates and just get straight to sex?" his hand comes up to feather my arm, and then cup my cheek. His chocolate brown eyes catch the sun just so, but he doesn't look annoyed. He seems intent at the task at hand, his finger making its way from my cheek to my neck, leaving a trail of goosebumps in it's wake. He's fascinated. His finger goes from my neck, down, down, down, to the collar of my shirt. 

I curl my toes and surpress a shiver, but he notices and smirks. 

"I think there is a lot of benefit in taking things slowly." I say. I catch his finger from going any further, but raise it to my lips to give it a small kiss in apology. I watch his eyes go dark, as he bites his lower lip, and then closes his eyes. Is he angry? "Sorry" I add quickly, worried.

He moves fast. He turns me so I'm under him. He's on his elbows, on a sofa that barely fits us, his  underwear pressed intimately to mine. His skin on the inch of skin on my bared midriff feels like heated silk. "You don't ever need to apologize." he says in a low fierce voice. "I mean it."

His face is an inch from mine, his eyes sincere. I lean up, and close the distance between us in a soft kiss.

He moans, and his cock twitches against me. His lips chase mine as my head falls back, and he makes a rough growly sound of satisfaction as our kiss deepens. 

My hands seem to be moving on their own accord. Unable to stay still on his face, they roam his arms, his biceps tight as he's still leaning on them. His muscles twitch under my fingers as I make my way from his arms to his back, to his delicious bottom. He clenches his buttocks as I grip them, and we make twin moans as he rocks into me. My leg is wrapped shamelessly around his hips. My hands revel in roaming his back, as he rocks against me again, through our clothes, his mouth nibbling on my ear. 

"Is this what the kids call edging" his amused voice says in my ear. My eyes can't open, I'm too turned on, and I'm afraid I'll incinerate if I see him alongside the feeling of my body on fire. I've soaked through my panties. "I can get behind it, I don't think I've felt this since my teens." He continues speaking in my ear, his hot breath causing unbearable waves of desire.

His throat rumbles in approval. His leans his weight on one arm, and his hand makes its way up my shirt, lifting it up to my neck, exposing my breasts. I'd discarded my bra somewhere over the course of the evening. My eyes fly open, and I see him watching me. Calm. Steady. Daring me to stop him. 

I can't. My mind has left, and my body is in charge. My eyes close, and my back arches against his palm, and his hand makes it's way to my breast, circling it, and then roughly pinching my nipple. I gasp against his mouth, at the twin feeling of pain and pleasure, my hips bucking against him. 

"I have fantasized about doing this for nearly a year now." he whispers in my ear, and I think I'm going to come just from that.

His mouth goes to my other breast, his tongue laving the nipple while his hand mimics the movement on the other. My eyes have shuttered closed, unable to withstand anything other than the sensation of his mouth on my skin. His mouth makes it's way downward, to my stomach, an intoxicating mixture of tongue and kisses.

"Dani, stop." I gasp out, shattered, ragged, undone.

He stills. With difficulty, he rests his forehead on my stomach. I feel him take a deep, deep breath. With a sigh, he places a small chaste kiss on my skin, and then comes back up. His body moves off me, between the back of the sofa and my body, his head resting on his elbow with a bit of difficulty because of the small space. His hand rests rubs the dampness his tongue and kisses had left, and then he gently moves the shirt back down. 

"Sorry got carried away." he says quietly. 

My hand comes up to his chest in apology, and his breath catches. I turn towards him as well. Goddamn sofa is too small. Fascinated, I watch his eyes cloud over, as my hands makes it's way downward, towards the trailing vee of hair arrowing into his underwear. I cup him through the fabric, feeling the girth of his very hard shaft under my hand. His eyes have rolled back a little bit in his head, his hand resting on my hip. I make my way to the elastic band of his boxers, but his hand stops me before it can go in.

"I won't be able to stop if you go any further"

I smile a little at his pained expression and move my hands back up. His jaw is clenched.

He moves his hand from resting on my hip to the waistband of my shorts. Hypnotized, I feel his finger edge in under the waistband just a tiny bit. It makes its way slowly, slowly, slowly, towards the closure, and then pause at the button. He looks at me in challenge, an eyebrow raised. I teeter on the precipice. I don't know if I will survive him. 

He waits there patiently, gazing at me intently, his finger right there, his knuckle rubbing a small intoxicating circle as his finger sits under the waistband of my shorts - skort - as if waiting to be let in.

He leads over to my ear. "At this point, I'm willing to beg. I have no dignity left" 

I choke out a laugh. I cave. I undo the buttons, and pull the skort down with his help, and then kick it off. His hands are rough, callused, big, a little eager as they pull off the skort and toss it down. His palm runs from my ankle all the way to my hip. His eyes are half hooded, on me, steady, unblinking. I'm suddenly stricken with doubt. He's used to models. Younger women. I can't stack up. What am I doing. His hand is moving in mesmerizing circles on my outer thigh, distracting me for a second. Get it together woman. I blink trying to clear my head. My back stiffens, trying to fight the tsunami of desire threatening to overwhelm me.

"Your face shows your every thought, it's fascinating." his voice distracts my spiraling thoughts. His hands are continuing their hypnotizing circles, but now are reaching under the waistband of my underwear. Slowly.

"What do you mean"

"I see you get turned out, and then fight it. It's like your brain is at war with your body." 

I smile. "Well that's one way of putting it." 

"And then, when I kiss you." He reaches forward, and takes a deep kiss, while his hand simultaneously goes just a little deeper under the hemlines of my underwear. Our lips break apart, and he looks down at me and gives me a little crooked smile. 

I blink a few times. My thoughts are a little fuzzy from the onslaught of his fingers, rubbing closer and closer but not reaching the spot I want him to. What does he mean by that.

"When we kiss, it's like your brain reboots for a just a bit." he comes back down, his tongue in my mouth mimicking the thrusts of his finger as he finally enters me. I moan at the dual onslaught. 

"It is so fucking hot how wet you are" he rasps out, he inhales with a guttural gasp in my ear like a dying man. 

I groan and lean forward, his silken hair soft against my cheek as he presses hot kisses on the junction between my shoulder and neck. His fingers retreat a little, slow, lazy, taking their time, swiping me in a way that makes my body tighten further and further, leaving me in a primal sweaty needy heap, building a desperate urgency in one single touch I haven't felt in a long time. 

"Oh my God" I pant, the only words my scattered thoughts can grasp, my throat strangling with greedy demand. I don't think I'll survive this.

He pulls his hand up. My eyes fly open in protest. He gives a feral half smile, and - help me God - puts his fingers, wet with my fluids, in his mouth. My jaw drops.  

"You are wearing way too many clothes for this" he says, a little slurred, his lips wet with my arousal. gestures to the shirt getting in the way of his ministrations. I'm wearing nothing else. 

I groan and my head falls back. "Don't stop!" I bark. I lift my hips, grinding against his arousal, and his eyes shutter closed as his jaw ticks a little. His hands, relentless, make their way between the sofa and my back, trying to undo the zip unsuccessfully. 

With an impatient huff, I turn onto my stomach, and swat his hands away and undo the offending zip. 

His hands eagerly rip the shirt open, and there is a loud skrrrtttt sound as the hen rips in the tight space. "Oh shit" he breathes out, not stopping, getting the fabric off me. "I'll get you more of those I'm sorry"

I get both my arms untangled, and fling it off. "It's designer, you fucking better" I can't help but laugh, my sweaty hair is all over my face from all the twisting and turning, but I'm finally naked except for my underwear. 

He looks down and bites his lower lip, and then holds the side of my panties, and rips them off in one go. "Fucking hell Dee!"  I shriek, my hip stinging with the brutal pull of the elastic as it shreds. Danial gives me a devastatingly smug grin, completely unapologetic as I'm stripped bare in front of him. "Worth it" he says, as his lips descend on to my breast, and give a gentle bite that spears through my core. 

My shriek is muffled by a gasp as his other hand enters me, rough, twisting, curling, finding a sensitive spot that makes me bow my back off the sofa.

***

The Hotel

He just got back from Davos and has stopped over in this city, because I was visiting for a wedding. I try unsuccessfully to stop the goofy grin from breaking out.

I'm in his hotel room. Holy shit. I have ducked out from the dinner in the other building. The one I was supposed to attend. The one in this hotel, which is why he chose to stay here as well. I walk over, jittery with excitement. I couldn't believe it. Me. It was going to happen! 

He latches the door behind me, his arm trapping my body close. Uff. I know I'll remember that cologne forever. 

He looks down at me, and I can tell he likes what he sees. He uses the lack of space to position himself between my legs, his strong arms hook my butt up, so I'm his height now. My legs wrap around him, and we both give a muffled erghm because we're old and not as flexible anymore but then settle into it. "I think I may have the wrong room. I'm looking for my friend Zain" I quip. We both crack up. He's grinning. I'm grinning. 

"Hello." He puts his forehead on mine. 

"Hello to you too."

I have a fleeting moment to wonder if that lush head of hair is real or transplanted before I dig my hands into it, and pull him down to my mouth.

***

The Mehndi

I come back from the dholki function super high on the music and the mehndi and chooris and dance practices, and just having a rocking good time. A destination wedding was a fabulous idea, because it has pulled us out of our normal day to day we've all let loose in a way we never could in the middle of all our work routines. And it's fabulous to just be able to go upstairs to your hotel room and not worry about cleaning or laundry. Bliss.

I have green-brown mehndi on the palms of both my hands, drawn in intricate designs squeezed out a cone almost like thin piping on a cake, in the ancient tradition of celebrating happy occasions. All the women get together, have experts apply it on in a big function full of song and dance, and by tomorrow all our hands will have these orange designs dyed on for a week or so. But it renders me unable to touch anything till it dries, a process that takes 2-3 hours, and some people leave it on all night, and even apply lemon juice and what not to the maximum color, but I'm not that invested or patient. I'm still somewhat bopping to the Punjabi beats we were practicing to at the event, wondering how to operate the remote and get Netflix up when there is a knock on the door. Of course, I had asked Danial to swing by. I skip to the door, but am flummoxed, because I can't open the handle. I awkwardly jimmy it using the back of my wrists, then realize i have to use my elbow for the lock, but eventually manage, triumphant, if a little mussed in the hair and breathless from the shimmying.

He's holding a wine bottle. Bless that man. He does a double take when he sees me. He stands back and a slow grin appears. "Red huh" he tips his chin at my red lipstick and matching choli lehnga.

"Hell ya baby" I grin back, raising my arms and doing a pseudo sexy swirl, and then thrust out my hotel bedroom slippers and we both burst out laughing.

He comes in, but I notice he's side eyeing my exposed midriff, and can't help but smile inwardly at how transparent he is. Boys are so simple minded honestly.

"Sooo Netflix and room service?" He asks as he puts the wine on the desk, grabs the remote, and flops on to the bed. 

"Yesss I was just trying to figure out how to operate the damn remote with this" I gesture with my palms as I sit next to him at the foot of the bed. 

"You know, I really hate the smell of mehndi, it's like super gross" he wrinkles his nose as he turns the TV on and fiddles with the menu to get to the app.

Like any normal person who grew up with a ton of siblings, I do what the situation calls for. "Oh you mean this smell" and waggle my palms in front of his nose, and crack up when he lets out a girly shriek trying to jump back so he doesn't get any on his nose. 

"Oh hell no" he grabs my wrists, and yanks up my arms so my offending hands are out of range. Except I'm attached to the arms, so I'm launched on to his stomach, and it's my turn to shriek.

And just like that, the energy shifts. He's trapped under me, still holding my wrists above his head, and we're eye to eye. Fascinated, I notice his chocolate brown eyes darken in color a little bit as his breath hitches a bit.

"Hello" I say, and his eyes go down to my mouth, apparently hypnotized. 

"Red suits you" he says, his voice a little husky, and he rolls me over suddenly, and I'm the one pinned under him now, his mouth hovering inches from mine. 

"Smooth move, well done" I crack, but he just gives a small distracted smile, his mouth sliding towards my jaw. "Errhmmmpphh" is all I can manage as he trails a series of small kisses from my jaw, and then reaches my ear and takes a tiny nibble. 

He looks up at my face, and looks super satisfied with what he sees. A cross eyed panting mess probably, get it together woman. He slides his hands down my arms, and takes his weight on his elbows, cups my face, and then closes the gap and kisses me. I'm awash with sensation, being pressed into the soft bed, the feeling of his rough jeans on my silk clad legs, his mouth robbing me of all thought. I moan as he comes up for air, and he makes a rough sound in his throat.

Then his eyes go wide. "SHIT" he jumps back, alarmed, looking at his hands and then at my face. "Shit shit shit shit I'm so sorry" and then his expression goes from alarm to hilarity. "Oh shit you're going to kill me" he's looking at me with his eyes full of mirth and sheepishness.

I'm still lying down a little dazed "Wha.. what?" I muster, completely confused, unable to fully form words.     

He holds up his left hand, and the pinkie has a huge smear of mehndi. My eyes grow big, and - like a horror movie unveil - I check my palms, and sure enough, an entire band of the intricate mehndi design near my wrist is a smooshed mess of green brown, with the orange dyed skin showing underneath. My brow furrows, he's backing away, levering off the bed. "Now- don't kill me I will fix this - you have some on your face." 

"Whhaaatttt" I shriek, and my hands jerk automatically towards my cheeks, but he manages to stop them before I touch my face trying to look for the offending bit. 

"Wait wait, its salvageable give me one second let's go to the bathroom and fix this" he's speaking quickly, but his shoulders are shaking with laughter. 

"You asshole!" I wail, and try to swat at him, but again his grip on my wrists comes in handy from doing too much damage, and that just makes him almost double over with laughter.

He manages to get a hold of himself, and then helps me up. "I got you, don't worry" and he maneuvers me towards the bathroom sink. He grabs one of those small hotel towelettes, and puts a bit of soap and water, and then placing me between his legs he focuses on the job at hand, and gently rubs my jaw.

"Dude, swipe harder I can't have an orange jaw during the wedding tomorrow!"

He looks down from his superior height, "Ok ok relax," and dutifully rubs harder. He emerges triumphant and shows me the towelette - "See! all done, no damage."

I turn and check the mirror.

"Ok minimal damage, you can barely see it," he quickly corrects, as my eyes narrow. 

"Give me a phone light! I can't see anything in damn hotel lighting!" 

He fiddles with the vanity mirror and it has a built in light that helps. 

I relax, the damage is indeed minimal. 

"Ok whew!" I reluctantly give a relieved smile. "That was a close call" I turn around, and he's still standing too close, towel dripping. "Ok please get that away from my outfit, that's like a drip bomb waiting to go off."

He quickly pulls the towel over the sink, "Ok Ms. Bossy!" he grins good naturedly, rinsing the offending mehndi paste off his own hand. It's already gone bright orange, but his eyes are on me in the mirror and he doesn't seem to notice.

"I prefer the term Ms. Girl Boss Energy thank you," I grin back, and his eyes go my lips.

"Do you need me to get that for you?" he asks, his eyes riveted on my lips. He gestures to the red lipstick smeared over my lips. 

"Get yours as well first" I laugh, because it's true, my lipstick is all over him as well. 

He smiles as he rubs a wet hand over his mouth, but then his brow furrows when it does nothing to the waterproof makeup. He then grabs a bunch of tissues, then adds a bit of liquid soap and rubs his mouth, and then satisfied turns to do the same for me.

"I would really prefer makeup remover." 

He sighs, about to protest, but then seeing my resolve looks around helplessly. "Make up remover?" He chews out the words strangely, like he hasn't heard them before. He looks at me for help, I just raise a brow. He goes back to looking at the array of bottles on the counter, till he notices a labelled bottle "This one?" 

"Good boy."

He raises an eyebrow at that, and haughtily says "I lead a 750 person global organization, I can find makeup remover thank you very much." 

"Looked hit and miss there for a second," I drawl, and his eyes crinkle with amusement at my sass.

Somewhere in the middle of gently scrubbing the lipstick off, his expression sobers. I'm suddenly acutely conscious of standing close to him, his hands on me. I take a sharp breath in as his thumb caresses my lip, his eyes bright with need, riveted to my lips. 

"I.. I think we need to make sure you don't get that silk wet," his says in a low gruff voice. He gestures to my blouse, which has a drop of water on it. He's biting his lower lip, and I think I'm going to incinerate.

"Unhuhhh" is all I can manage as I take a ragged breath in, swallowing back my moan, losing my ability to breathe and form words at the same time as his hands make their way to the back of my head. 

He smiles his little crooked smile, and lowers his lips to mine, his hands going to my lehnga first, unhooking it at my waist till it falls and pools around our feet in a soft flumph of fabric.

"Err I think that was the wrong piece of clothing" I look down, and I'm barefoot in my underwear, my hotel slippers long forgotten somewhere. Gross.

"Oh sorry" he smiles, unabashed. "Let me get that for you properly now" he lifts me up to the sink counter, and my legs automatically go around him as he unhooks the buttons at the back of my choli. I feel the cold air against my back as the shirt gapes open.

"Damn this shirt is tiny," he says against my neck, taking a deep inhale. "I don't think I know how to pull this off you without messing up the damn mehndi,"  he says in my ear, and I have to remember to keep breathing. "But I think I have a solution"

"You are the head of a 750 person global organization" I say wisely, my eyes closed, feeling his silken hair brush against my cheek. He stills for a second as he's pressing hot kisses on my neck, and then I feel his lips stretch in a smile against my jaw. 

"You're killing me N" he says in a low rough voice, reaching behind me, allowing me to get a deep heady inhale of him. His calloused hands slide from my waist to under the back of my opened blouse, the warmth in contrast to the cold AC air. His breath is ragged, his hands discover my bra is strapless, and with a sound of satisfaction in his throat he unhooks it and discards it onto the bathroom floor along with my lehnga. He's fully clothed, I'm only in two tiny scraps of clothing. the rough denim between my thighs in mesmerizing contrast with the cold marble and his warm hands that are coming up my back. He reaches forward to cup my breasts and he lets out this gutteral groan, I have to stifle my own as I'm suddenly exposed and unbearably sensitive in his presence. He slowly grinds his jeans, right there, at the apex of my thighs, his eyes half shuttered, and I feel like I've ignited in flame. My voice is gone, I'm drowning in feeling, aching.

"I think I'll just wash the mehndi off," I gasp with difficulty, I can't bear to keep my hands off him anymore.

He grabs my waist to stop me, gives this wicked smile at my quizzical look. His voice is low as he nips my ear, his hands on me, touching me everywhere. "I think I like you like this Ms. Girl Boss Energy. At my mercy." His warm tongue laves my neck all the way up to my ear, and I feel a full body shudder of anticipation as I dissolve into a puddle of need.

"Ok but get me out of this bathroom. And no way I'm stepping barefoot on some gross hotel carpet"

"Yes ma'am."

***