Sealed With A Kiss

7

"HAVE YOU given the offer any thoughts yet?" McConnon walked into my office with his hands tucked into the pockets of his trousers.

"Not yet, boss," I felt a wave of anxiety run through me. I didn't want to think about the possibility of moving.

"I hope you make the right choice, Alyssa. This is a step up for your career. Don't pass on this opportunity."

As much as I wanted a change, I wasn't sure moving back to Chicago was the right choice. It felt as though I was taking a step back instead of forward.

"Give me until Monday. I just need the weekend to organize my thoughts."

"Whatever you need, Champ," he clicked his fingers, and walked out. Champ? Do I look like a dog?

Delia had plans for me on Saturday. She didn't give much details, but said to wear something comfortable. I assumed that she meant no heels, since I was always in them. And I was still yet to confirm if I'd have the time to.

I remembered how she commented on my strappy heels the other night...

"You have sexy feet. How do you manage to pull off heels so gracefully? I usually feel as though I'm going to fall over!"

We were on our second bottle of wine, and I decided to drink as slowly as I possibly could. I didn't want to be pulled over, and fail a breathalyzer test. God knew that I needed to be at work early the next morning.

"That's because you're wearing a full six-inches, without proper leveling for the front of your feet. I'm going to have to take you shoe shopping someday," I tell her.

Her index finger curled around the stem of her wine glass, "as much as I'd love that, I don't think any heels can be comfortable. I only wear them when I want to look extra intimidating."

She stretched her feet out at the end of the table, where I noticed her cute, gladiator sandals.

"Are those Louis Vuitton?" I asked.

"Yeah. I bet you wouldn't be caught dead in something so basic."

I liked that she wasn't a glam girl all the time. It was nice to see her in casual clothes, and still looking as elegant as the night we met, when she wore that stunning dress.

"I might have a pair of those deep inside of my closet. But I'm not really a Louie girl."

"What are you then?" She asked. I bit down on my bottom lip, hoping that I wasn't ruining the smooth layout of my lipstick.

"I don't have a preference really. It's all about what I see, and if I like it."

"Oh, I see," I uncrossed my ankles, and crossed my legs instead, trying to ease the thumping. Why was I getting turned on? Had it been that long since I'd had sex? It was just a friendly dinner. That's all it was. Even though I knew that I was definitely attracted to the woman in front of me.

I'd had a few experiences back in high school and college that made me certain that I was straight. But was age making me realize that I was wrong? Was I really into women—this woman?

"Have you ever tried 1998 Hilkens? It's my favorite red," I steered the conversation to another topic.

"My dad actually has a few cases of that in his cellar. It's the only thing that I drink when I'm visiting," she told me.

"Bring me a bottle next time you're there, and we'll find something to toast to."

"Sounds like a plan."

I wiggled my toes out of my heels, and felt even more relaxed, "it sure is."

"Is it true?" Meggie walked into my office, and towards me.