He was writhing, but not in a good way. Floundering was more accurate, desperately drowning in front of her as she gave a muted smile, looking away from him with pity laden in her sparkling blue eyes.
"Ahh, yes," he mumbled for no reason as the waiter took their empty dinner plates from them, and he wiped his suit for the umpteenth time. They hummed in the silence; he had nothing to say and frantically racked his imagination for words to say to break the lull in the conversation. "My secretary had her baby last week."
"You said."
"Oh, did I?" He sighed and licked his lips free of red wine gravy.
"We never had so many problems talking on the Internet," she mused. "It was more ... natural."
He nodded; it was true: salacious chatter had come easily to them as they talked daily for hours, but nerves had wrestled his confidence into submission when the two had met in person for the first time. He glanced under the table at the laptop bag nestling between her stocking-clad legs. "Shall we?"
"Shall we what?" She asked. "I think we should get the dessert and ..."
He wasn't listening, as he pulled his own notebook from under his seat, and opened it onto the restaurant table. "Talk?"
She giggled at his seriousness: it was the most relaxed he had been all evening, and shook her head as his work laptop connected to the Wifi and he signed into SpankoDating.com. They connected in seconds, their avatars talking on the chatroom in a private chat.
Her blond-haired figure, dressed in stockings and suspenders sat next to his leather-clad man, shaking her red behind at him. "Hello sexy!" She asked; the same greeting she had used every day for a month. "I've been a naughty girl."
"Do tell."
