Friday, June 17, 2011

Melt pt. 9

Melt pt. 9

I snap my locker closed. Too much — just too much thinking… 

I slip out of my shirt to put on the dress shirt with the logo on it, the logo, which I pretty much despise; a cheesy photo of Mark and Sally with an I-can-instantly-tell-it’s-fake pizza on the counter between them. I’ve told Mark numerous times to switch the logo on the shirts — but my voice seems to be that of a mouse when I talk about business problems. 

“Hey, you.”

I turn around to find Olivia behind me. “Hi.”

“Is Mark around?”

I notice my dress shirt is still open so I wrap my arms around myself, tucking it closed. “Um, yeah. He’s in his office half-asleep.” I look her model-like figure up and down, trying not to let my eyes widen at the shortness of her skirt. “As always,” I add.

She grins at me as though in pity. “Thanks.”

I start fidgeting as she lingers in front of me, looking at something near my head.

“Oh, I love your earrings,” she coos, extending her hand to my ear, “where did you get them?” She swipes her finger along the earring, just a normal old-fashioned button I’d glued back together twice already. 

“They were my Mom’s,” I mumble, looking down at the ground as I start buttoning up my dress shirt. I watch her feet, waiting for her to exit. We’d had some sort of drunken run-in at the restaurant’s Christmas party a few months ago, a mere few whiskey-tasted kisses and some very badly coordinated fondling at the balcony. If I remember correctly she dropped her shoe down from the thirteenth floor, just to see if the heel would break. She rushed me to the elevator so that we could go see. I grin to myself as I finish buttoning up my shirt, looking up to find her there still.

“Mark is in—“

“His office, you told me.”

I flush, holding my hand to my neck. “Sorry. I should go.” I start for the staff door, straightening the shirt with a few fingers. I hear her heels clip-clap behind me. She grips my wrist, her nails pressing to my skin. What now?

“Haley, I was wondering—“

“What?” I try and paint a smile on my face as the balcony scene flashes by me in Polaroids.

She slips her fingertips up my forearm, giving me chills. 


She puts her finger on my mouth, shushing me. Oh, shit…

“What are you doing tonight?” she murmurs, her fingertips traveling to my shoulder, her nails nipping at my skin. 


“Nothing, I think,” I say, a smile curling at the side of my lips. 

She grins, her hand drifting down my side, her thumb passing over my breast. “Mark has to go see a friend in hospital so my evening plans are a bit ruined. We were going to watch some foreign films—“

“I’d love to.”

“Do you have his new address?” she says, tilting her head. 

“Of course.” What am I doing?!

She smiles, pulling me close by my hip. I smash against her, causing both of us to burst out laughing. “My heel never broke, by the way. I paid ninety dollars for those shoes. Must’ve been worth it,” she murmurs, kissing the corner of my mouth. I breathe in slowly as a hot wave floats down my abdomen, making me crunch my toes together.

“Should I come by when I get off work?” 

“Yeah. I’ll let you in.”

She grins, brushing the tip of her tongue up my lips before walking away. I back to the wall, holding my hands to my forehead as I slip down to the floor. 


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