Cake Love: All Things Payne(7)

Hi-Ed-Junior: Big enough to fill you until you whimper my name. What are you wearing Sweetcakes?

I moan as I read it and bite my lip trying to think what to come up with. Wow, he went from one to five to one hundred in just a few lines.

Me: Black lace bra and panties. My panties are so wet I have to take them off. You know this would be a lot more exciting if I knew what you looked like.

I hit enter and wait. A full minute passes before he responds. I feel quite certain I have scared him off.

Hi-Ed-Junior: Perhaps we should talk about something else.

Shit! I ruined it. There is probably no way he will send a picture now. I guess curiosity doesn't just kill cats, but sex chatting too.

Me: Okay. I'm sorry I pushed you to show me what you look like. It's just I don't understand why you can't show me your picture? Are you much older than you said, or younger?

Hi-Ed-Junior: No, I'm thirty-four, going to be thirty-five in December. I'm not married or in a relationship, if that is what you are thinking. I know it seems weird I haven't given you my pic, you have my word that my face is fully intact. :)

Me: I'm thirty and single, but I don't mind giving you my pic if you want to see it. If you are a completely normal looking thirty-four year old single guy, then what is stopping you from letting me know what you look like?

I just have to push this. What Eveleen told me today has been bugging me. I have to know more than his likes and dislikes.

Hi-Ed-Junior: You can't tell but I just sighed and shrugged my shoulders in an overly dramatic way. How about this… My name is Ric and if you are free on Sunday at ten in the morning do you want to meet for coffee at Beans & Beans & More Beans on Wacker Drive by Lake?

Ahhh! I got a date! Not just that but his name is Ric! Ric. Hi, Ric. So nice to meet you Ric. I like how your jeans look on my floor Ric. I'm going to see Ric in all hi-Ed-Junior-thirty-four-year-old-Raising-Arizona-loving-ness!

Me: Yes! I am free. How will we recognize each other?

Hi-Ed-Junior: I think it is supposed to rain that day. I have a blue plaid umbrella. I will bring it, rain or shine.

Me: Oh, that's a good idea. The old recognize me by my umbrella bit. I have a red umbrella, I'll bring that.

Hi-Ed-Junior: It's settled. What's your name? I told you mine; it's only fair you tell me yours.

Hmm, that was the part I didn't mind so much, not knowing names. What if he turns out to be completely lame, then he might be able to find me based on my name. Not that many Morganas in the Chicago area.

Me: It's Morgan.

It's partially true. So I left off the ‘a’ at the end. Some people spell their name Ann instead of Anne, what's the difference? Stop judging me!

Hi-Ed-Junior: Okay Morgan I'll see you Sunday at ten.

We chat for a little while after that. I find out he used to take Improv classes at Second City when he was in college. The discussion turns serious when we debate how the Coen brothers would do if they directed by themselves. I couldn't tell from the writing but I have a feeling Ric might have been crying at one point.

I end up falling asleep during our discussion and wake up Friday morning with my hand on the keyboard, the other down my pants, and my glasses covering my nose.





Chapter 3

Morgana's Problem: Her Job

"Ms. Drake! My office. NOW."

My head whips around from my computer to see Mr. Payne's door closing with a slam.

Either the coffee was too cold this morning, or I am dressed inappropriately for the office again. He always gets slammy with the door when those two things have happened.

Looking down at my gray cashmere dress I realize it's a crew neck. No showing off the ta-ta's today. Guess I will just have to hike up the hemline enough when I sit to show off my thigh high stockings. Yeah, that will add salt to the wound.

Getting up I walk over and throw open the door. The thud of it crashing into the wall stirs him from his typing and the blue of his eyes disappear as his eyelids form a slit. He hates to have to look at me, I know it. Look, baby, look at what you can't have or could have if you tried. Please try. Damn, I'm pathetic.

Bringing myself over to the chair I glide into the soft tan cushioned seat with ease. I prepare for the Payne attack by lifting and adjusting what is needed.

His eyes fall to my legs as I cross them. Mr. Payne's hand runs through his hair and he grumbles something. He refocuses on the computer as he addresses me, "Ms. Drake something has come to my attention that is extremely serious."

Oh God I knew that YouTube sex video of me would be found sooner or later. He is probably chomping at the bit to fire me. Pissed off about all these teasing games I play with him and now he has evidence to lay into me. Why, oh why, did my idiot ex-boyfriend Trevor think it was a good idea to film us having sex? If he had just told me about it I would have pointed out the utter stupidity of his logic.

I liked Trevor Trance. No, that's not true, I loved him. We were fresh out of college when we met and I thought he was the one. I know, very naive on my part but what can I say, I was young. We were together for three years. He was everything to me.

One day I came home from working as Sales Manager at VonCroy Department Store, tired and cranky. When I walked in the bedroom he had sprinkled the bed with rose petals, and candles were lit everywhere. I thought that he was finally going to propose to me. When he walked over with a new red lace nightie for me to put on I got so excited. I remember racing into the bathroom to put on the negligee and practicing my "Yes, I'll marry you!" face.