Chapter 3
Chapter Three
LOLA
"Oh...shit!"
Voices grow and stop right outside the room with the copier.
Panic whirlwinds in my blood, turning my temperature up to boiling, and I don't know what to do. Its wings beat hard against me, and I try to think, get past the sudden buzzing in my brain.
I glance down as someone says "copier."
Fuck.
I chose this one because it is in the office supply room, the others are either in corners or in open-plan areas. This is one of the few in a room with a door that closes.
And now...
I glance down.
The roses on my panties seem to take on such brightness I can't look away.
I also can't move.
My bag is on the shelf with the reams of paper, and if someone comes in, I'm toast. It is either the panties on the damn copier or me diving into my bag, looking like I'm stealing.
Fuck.
I drag in a breath.
The panties sit on the copier, arranged just so. The number one punched into the machine and—
"I need to get this copied, Clay, hold on..."
Oh. God.
The panic inside beats its wings hard, and I slam the lid down, catching my thumb.
"Ow."
My thumb throbs as I drag it free.
A moment of silence.
Then a voice comes from just outside the door. "Actually, I will use the one down the hall. I think someone's in there doing...something."
Snickering infiltrates the door, and I sink down, touching my throbbing hand to the ground.
Great. It is official. I'm fool enough, pathetic enough, tragic enough to do what some random wrong number tells me because, apparently, I'm that desperate to have a life.
WN wanted a photo—one that has got to have reached him by now—and evidence of the fact I copied them.
I drag myself up from the ground by grabbing hold of the copier. "I'm never doing anything like this again."
I'm not sure I can deal with the shame.
The machine goes off. I must have pressed start.
Fine by me. I'm happy to get this over and done with now so I can pretend I never did it.
As it is, for me, this is a wild move.
Out there.
What in hell must he think of me?
I'm honestly questioning my sanity, but I calm myself by reminding my overheated brain that he has no idea who I am. And he never will.
I pause, pressing my cold fingers against fiery cheeks.
My heart is racing and...
Hell's bells. If this is the pinnacle of me being daring, it might be time to throw in the towel.
But I stand still, thumb throbbing as I listen.
I want to remove the photocopy and my panties, take a photo, and shove all the evidence in my bag before scurrying off.
So, I listen for the sounds of anyone coming close to the copy room, but there are no more approaching voices, just the usual hubbub of the office.
My shoulders start to relax, and air rushes out, making me sag a little.
I'm aware I don't need to do this. Just as I'm aware that I could have taken WN's get-out-of-jail-free card.
But there isn't much happening in my life, and I honestly can't see anyone wanting to be with the girl whose father caused such a massive scandal that all the papers and socials were alight with it when it all went down.
Correction. No one I would want to be with.
And that is why I will never meet this guy. He is firmly in fantasy land for me.
Wild heat whirls through me.
I also like it. I get a thrill.
It is totally safe.
Right, I need to get out of here.
I put one hand on the copier as I reach for the photocopy when the door bursts open, and I go stiff.
"Lola!"
The copier starts to go off, flashing like a man in a trench coat in a train full of women.
Oh, God.
I frantically try to stop it.
"So glad I caught you. I wanted to see if you—" Ruby stops speaking and closes the door.
I don't need to turn. I don't have to. I recognize the soft Southern lilt in her voice.
"Lola, are you commando?"
Horror slams into me. And I turn.
I blink up at the statuesque blonde with the stripper's name.
She once told me her mom was going to call her Sapphire but decided to go with stripper over porn star for a name. She is joking, of course, she is named after her great-aunt Ruby, who, from what she has told me, sounds amazing.
But in this moment, frozen and burning up all at the same time, I stare at her, trying to angle over the printer. And then something comes to me.
Maybe it is not that. Maybe, somehow, my pencil skirt is now magically see-through.
I try to swallow down the choking ball of shame in my throat. "What? Can you see? Is it noticeable? I mean—"
I stop talking altogether.
And Ruby sashays over, the kind of walk that has men drooling, and she whispers loudly to me, "No, it's not. And you can't, unless you count your panties hanging from the copier..."
I utter a small shriek, just as someone knocks on the door.
Ruby turns and crosses the small space back to it, snipping the lock as whoever it is tries to open the door.
"Who's in there?" comes a voice from the other side.
"Larry," Ruby mouths to me and rolls her eyes. "It's Ruby and Lola."
There is a second of silence.
"I need the copier."
"There are lots of copiers. Use another," Ruby says, hands on hips.
I snatch the panties, and while her back is to me, I throw them on the pile of copies and snap a photo. Then, I gather the evidence and try to shove it all in my bag.
"But I like that one," Larry says.
"They're all the same. Why this one? What were you planning on doing in here?" Ruby asks.
"Nothing." Then he turns it on us. "Why are you in there?"
Ruby turns and winks at me. "Girl issues."
"I will find another copier."
Then she turns, dusts her hands, and smiles at me.
I clutch my bag.
"Why did you photograph your panties? And why did you photocopy them? Oh, and pro tip: turn the sound off on your phone next time." She winks at me.
"I don't usually do this," I hiss.
"Color me intrigued. Who is the lucky man? Or woman?"
"No one."
She just stares at me.
My cheeks are about to set the whole room on fire. "I don't want to talk about it."
"You need to spill the tea. Do you know how boring this job is?"
I try to give her a mirroring look to her knowing one, but I think it comes off as frightened rabbit more than sassy woman. "I do work here. And there's no tea."
"Soooo..." She eyes the handbag I clutch to my chest. "Those papers sticking out, they're just your creative way of disguising stealing the stationery?"
I stuff in more of the offending pages, hoping they stay hidden. "I'm not stealing stationery. I would never..."
"Like you would never steal toilet paper?"
I point at her. "That was one time."
"Imagine it had been Agnes who caught you red-handed that time? It takes one time and the wrong person to get a reputation." Then she grins. "Or the right person."
"You wouldn't."
"Not if you tell me why you were doing that."
I open my mouth and close it again. "I wasn't doing anything."
"That card never works with someone of my caliber." Ruby bends down and sweeps up a photocopy.
I try to snatch it from her, but she holds it above her head where I can't reach it.
I'm no pint-sized female, but I'm not anywhere near her five feet eleven inches.
And she wears four-inch heels to intimidate men to do what she wants.
I'm not intimidated, I just can't reach the damn copy.
Finally, I give up, and she leans against the wall, frowning. "Cute panties, but if you want my expert opinion..." She eyes me from over the top of the piece of paper. "These aren't hot or sexy. They're just cute and cotton. I will pencil us in to go shopping. I know some great stores—"
"No." I swallow again.
I can't afford even tacky lingerie shops.
And who would benefit from it? Not me. I have nice pieces I keep unworn now—pretty, lacy, silky impractical things that I would wear because money was no problem.
But after selling a majority of my designer clothes, a lot of them unworn and for a fraction of their cost, I make sure every purchase counts. Solid things, made to last.
And this is the last time I'm sending any man, especially WN, underwear pics.
Heat coils in my stomach.
If he wants more, he can have more of the same...I mean, I'm not doing this again.
"But I will go for a drink. If not tonight, soon."
Ruby sighs. "Either you lead a life of fabulous intrigue, or you run home to a cat."
"I don't have a cat, and I definitely don't like a life of intrigue."
"Pity. I was hoping one of us did."
Then the facade she wears drops, and she takes my bag, pulls out the copies, straightens them, and folds them so they can fit in my bag. She hands it back.
I sigh. "Thanks."
"It's not a problem, and you're not the first to do this. Just promise me this wasn't for someone who works here."
"I promise."
"Good, because that just leads to trouble." She nods to the bag. "You should shred those, but I will leave the how and when up to you. With a bunch of other documents, or shred and take home and recycle."
My eyes suddenly sting with hot tears. "Why are you being so nice to me?"
Ruby frowns. "Because I like you? You're nice, you're a little mysterious, and I like to think we're friends.
You started here, what, six months ago? But since then, we have become friends, haven't we?
You know about me, and I know the important things about you—that you're honest, fun, hardworking, and loyal.
Like, remember that time I was hungover and late and couldn't do my job?
You lied for me and did the work. I don't forget things like that. Why are you nice to me?"
"You're a sweetheart, and you also have my back. You're fun and loyal, too. And..."
Ruby sighs. "I know you don't talk about your private life—"
"There isn't much to tell." Which is true.
I have WN, which is just fantasy, but otherwise...nothing. Which is the best way it can be.
"You don't need to. But I'm here."
"Thanks, Ruby." I want to hug her, but I'm not sure how. It has never been part of my life, that easy affection so many people have. "I know. And we are friends."
"So, you know why I'm helping with these photocopies. Of course, now you will just have to pretend you have 'women's troubles.'" She air quotes the words.
"It could be you," I point out.
She laughs. "Could be both of us."
I join in the laugh. "And we could terrorize the floor."
She looks at her watch and unlocks the door. "I have to go, but we need to get that drink. Let me know when."
Something in me weakens.
I want this friendship, I want to tell her why I was in here, so I take a leap. "I will, and I will tell you everything I was doing."
Ruby punches the air. "Yes! I'm holding you to it."
She rushes out, and I carefully make sure all evidence is safe in my bag, then grab some fresh paper and carry it out.
I quietly leave it on a table and duck into the bathroom, swinging my bag to my back.
I take a few moments of deep breathing while I pee, then flush, rush to the sink, and wash my hands.
I decide to follow up the last photo I sent with a photo of the panties in my bag with the photocopies and a text.
Because right now, adrenaline is pumping hard through me.
I rush for the elevator and type, You will need to try a lot harder to get me out of my comfort zone...
And the lie feels good.