“Do you want a treat?” I wiggled the bag at Charlie, and he landed in the trunk. I gave him a piece of salmon. He gobbled it up and then looked at me, expecting more.
“You can have one more.” He bobbed his head. It was obvious he liked what Aaron sent for him. “Move over while I unpack the rest of this.” He ignored me while cocking his head. I took a picture and sent it to Aaron.
Charlie approves.
Mr. Timberland: Oh, that’s a lot of stuff. I hope it’s not too much. Were there flowers? There should have been flowers.
I tapped the table and told Charlie to get up. He flew over to the table. I moved the vase of flowers next to him, took another picture, and sent it.
There are flowers.
Mr. Timberland: He is cute and not the man I would like to see in the pictures.
Do you want to see pictures of someone else?
Mr. Timberland: Maybe.
I looked at myself in the reflection of the window. After my shower, I hadn’t bothered to put a shirt on. My pants hung low on my hips. The V cut below my stomach muscles and my pubic area showed completely. I wasn’t naïve. I knew how good I looked; I kept it to myself, but I didn’t want to keep my body private from Aaron. I wanted him to know what was going on under my clothes. Maybe a dozen men have seen me with my shirt off, most of whom were family. I was about to add Aaron to that exclusive list.
I wanted to show him more than my face, so I went into my bedroom, where I had a full-length mirror. I changed the camera angle so he could see from my thighs up. I raised one arm behind my head to get the best flex, twisted my body so the ugly bruise wasn’t as noticeable, and then took the picture. I reviewed it quickly and then sent it before I chickened out.
I was terrible at flirting, but he made me want to. I could feel that awkwardness that I seemed to battle with constantly. As the secondsticked by without a response, I started to feel anxious that I had gone too far.
Mr. Timberland: Oh. My. Fuck.
Mr. Timberland: Fuck.
I am taking that as a compliment.
Mr. Timberland: It’s a compliment. My cock sends his accolades as well.
Another thing to add to the thank you list, then.
Mr. Timberland: No. Thank you!
Rodrigo Sanchez was being interviewed on TV. “I’m happy to say that PowerDrink will sponsor my car next season.” He pulled on a PowerDrink ball cap.
He managed that perfectly. PowerDrink would be happy that he worked it into his interview. He was one of the top NASCAR drivers right now. He didn’t fit the typical racial profile of the sport, so he was a valuable commodity to many companies. PowerDrink offered the best deal, so they got the sponsorship. Having the car wrapped in the new colors and logos would happen when pre-qualifiers start in the next few weeks. They were running a campaign with his image, and customers could win a signed jacket if they entered when they bought a PowerDrink. It put a pretty penny in my pocket and gave Rodrigo enough money to put his parents and grandparents in new homes.
Realizing it was 10 p.m. I started to feel the day. I was still bruised and sore, so I turned off the lights and locked the elevator. I tapped my chest, and the two of us headed into bed.
Charlie dropped down and climbed into his pouch. I picked up my phone.
Sorry, I was watching a client on TV. I am heading to bed, I think.
Mr. Timberland: Okay. Sweet Dreams. xoxoxo
Mr. Timberland: We will arrive around 4:30-5 p.m. tomorrow. You promised me dinner.
We? Are you bringing someone?
Mr. Timberland: I thought I would bring Daisy.
Yes! I will see you tomorrow. Sweet Dreams. xoxo
I turned off my light and fell asleep quickly. I dreamt of an emerald-eyed man who knew all the right things to do. I woke up rock hard but let it settle. Waiting for him was going to make my days uncomfortable in a not completely unpleasant way.
I filled my day with phone calls and emails. At lunchtime, I tried different pastry flavors from my new stash. I didn’t realize they made an apple or Snickerdoodle. Charlie spent his day sitting at mydesk. I kept a bag of treats beside me and played with him between calls. I wasn’t sure if it was him or thoughts of Aaron, but my stress levels seemed lower than usual. Maybe it was because I was happy.
