There was a hesitant knock on the metal border of the cube’s entrance. Not a moment too soon, he thought. The drone of the white noise from the overhead speakers was slowly lulling him into a dreamless stupor. He turned.
She was a sight for monitor-strained eyes. With a little work, she’d be the kind of call-girl you’d give up a week’s paycheck for. It’d had been a while since someone like that had walked into his cube…
What could she want from him? He’d take a guess and it might be good or it might be crummy. Didn’t matter… He could see it in her eyes that she needed his help. He wasn’t in the mood to help anyone, but he knew he’d help her today. Her skirt made sure of that. And the way that blouse fit made it all right.
And then she spoke. “I was wondering if you’d help me plug my iPod into my computer?”
“Yes, sweetheart. I would.”