Wanted For Pleasure

Chapter Sixty-six: slutty office Christmas party

"I had someone once who made every day mean something.
And now.... I am lost....
And nothing means anything anymore."

Chris Omar Vaughn

I picked through my closet for a jacket to wear to work. The most appealing one, simple and black - very me. I put it on and smelled a dark, sultry scent. Surely, it had to be hers. I couldn't remember the last time she wore it, but that scent was intoxicating still.

Seeing it was time to go, I walked in front of my full body mirror and made sure I looked decent enough.

"Keys, wallet, phone..." I checked for all three. Though, when I didn't hear my keys rattling, I patted myself down. I checked the pockets of my jacket and found an balled up napkin.

Thinking it was old, dirty, and used, I walked to the trash can in the kitchen and almost threw it away. Some blue markings made me change my mind.

"Aheh," I breathed out, unballing the two-month-old napkin.

That one October night, we had went out with JB, Jas, Lee, and his girl, Izzy to some restaurant out of town. I remembered we didn't eat actual food, just desserts and we had a lot of champagne, probably more than I'd had in my whole life before that night. Ah, we had fun.

I read the note I wrote aloud. "I love you..."

That shit hurt.

I should call her, I started to think.

Just as I fished my phone out of the pocket of my cargo pants, my "go to work NOW" alarm went off.

~~~

"Chris, my man. My main man!" Cleo badgered me the second I entered the building.

I gave in after a couple weeks and made up a handshake with the quirky receptionist.
It was just two hand slaps then a fist pound, nothing special but she was geeked over it.

I've found that Cleo has been a bright spot here in Port Ember, she/they makes the place suck a little less.
Okay, New York doesn't suck, it's just not home.

I've settled into a routine. Gym at five in the morning, workout for about an hour or two then make it home in time to shower and eat before work. After clocking out— actually, that's it. If I didn't need to go grocery shopping, or feel like hitting the gym again, I went straight home and either worked on a project, or entertained myself with whatever new thrilling documentary was trending on Netflix.

Cleo kept insisting I come out with her but for one, it's cold, and two, I did not want to hang out with co-workers outside of work.

"So you're coming to the Christmas party, right?" She badgered me.

I stopped at her desk and picked from her bowl of candy.

"Didn't I tell you I don't like Mike and Ike's?"

She snatched the bowl from my hands and huffed. "Well, other people do. Now, about that Christmas party; don't make me go alone."

"I don't do Christmas parties."

She dramatically plopped down in the chair and it spun in a circle.

"Why not?"

"Ugly sweaters, Eggnog, people sucking up to the boss for a raise? No thank you."

"But, there's also... I got nothing."

"Exactly." I tried walking away.

"Wait, wait! I have tea!" Cleo ran around the desk.