At work, Legal Secretary and I often talk about how cute we think one of the associates is. Then we pretend to argue over whose secret work-boyfriend he would be. Today I was helping that associate respond to discovery requests for one of his cases. I walked into his office, handed him my draft responses and asked him a question about whether we are required to produce a certain document or not.
He took the draft from my hand and said, "Oh, good question." With a smile he nodded, "I'll come for you later," and continued typing a, most likely, super urgent email (because he's important like that).
Of course when he said, "I'll come for you later," he meant that he'd come and find me later to answer my question. And the way he said it was totally innocuous. But the way my ears heard it, of course, it sounded like he wanted me, with every depth of his being. My imagination ran his voice through a deep, sultry sound filter. And, for a second, we were teleported right into the middle of an action-packed spy movie. In my mind, he had no time for romance at the present moment because he was tracking down a dangerous assassin. But at the same time, he had to make a concerted effort to contain his strong longing for me.
"I'll come for you later..." his gravelly voice projected, a streak of blood running down the side of his face from a gash in his forehead. He quickly wiped it from his eyes with the sleeve of his three-piece, bow tie suit. The sweat in his dark hair glistening and his chiseled features softened, but just for a moment, as he caught my gaze. And then off he ran, gun in hand, into a smokey building. His dusty trail leaving behind a strange mix of foreboding and heart racing anticipation for ......you guessed it...."later."
Then I snapped out of it and his office door slammed shut, just a rice-cracker width from my nose. I took a moment to collect my sanity. Then I walked down the hall to my office, face a-flushing.
Then I told the Legal Secretary. And she was totally jealous.