The clerk's name was Rachel. I didn't learn that until the third or fourth time we met - that is, met with purpose. She mentioned as I was about to leave that she felt like a coffee and I suggested I could bring her one. "Don't be silly," she said. "I'll come."
"Can you just leave the store unattended like that?" I asked.
She winked and said, "You and I have left the store unattended a lot lately."
We walked a block and a half up the street to Piper's Cafe, where she ordered a latte, and I an earl grey. When the barista asked for our names for the cups, the clerk was forced to betray herself as Rachel. I had no predictions, but I thought it suited her perfectly. Walking her back to work, she suggested broadening our radius.
"Since we know each other's names now, I guess we can be friends."
I laughed. "As opposed to?"
"Clerk and greeting card buyer," she shrugged.
"I always leave a satisfied customer."
Rachel got my drift. I'd been inside her many times and in many ways. She mentioned a small get together she was having that Friday. Just a few friends at her apartment, meeting to welcome home Annie, who'd been working for the better part of the year as a hospitality rep for a cruise line.
"Annie's my oldest friend," said Rachel. "No secrets."
"Have you told her about me?" I asked. It felt a bit self-centred, but why otherwise mention secrets?
"Not yet," Rachel winked. "But you understand I'll have to."
I smiled.
"It'll be much easier to tell the story if she can put a face to the..." she let her sentence trail off and very subtly gestured with her head toward my belt.
It didn't even occur to me to properly dissect a comment like that. Rachel the clerk still remained in a default state of influence over me. When we arrived back at the Paper Company entrance, she gave me her address and told me to come for eight on Friday. "Bring your friend Jane if you want." I didn't verbally commit either way, but I knew instantly that I would not be bringing Jane. Just because Rachel told Annie everything, didn't mean I had to divulge my wondrous on-going tryst to Jane, who I cared for, but might well have disapproved.
Friday couldn't come fast enough. It's not even that I was anticipating anything specific, much less naughty. I was brimming with excitement over getting to see inside Rachel's world. What would her apartment be like? Probably bright and bohemian and full of waxy leaves. I had this vision of her answering the door with rosΓ© in hand, and she's wearing this straight little dress, white with a timeless blue floral pattern. And her sweet, ash-coloured hair is loosely curled, in a special way like she would never do for a shift at the shop. And she's barefoot. Admittedly, I was intimidated to meet her friends, presuming they were erudite and artsy. And Annie was probably due to grill me, and oh god, what if Rachel's got an ex-boyfriend there - some guy she'd flung around with, and they're cool now, and still share all their friends, but he might size me up. None of that overshadowed my enthusiasm, but it was present in my mind. I brought a Cabernet, the selection of which was a bit overwhelming, and I showed up a cool thirty-five minutes late.
Rachel answered the door looking nothing like my vision. Better, of course. Her party dress was light pink, and had a fringe that just barely fell beyond the too-short threshold. She had different make-up than usual. Evening shades, a bit smokey round the eyes, and she wore little hoop earrings. Her face lit up radiant when she saw me, and she showed her teeth with a giddy smile before putting her arms around me and kissing my cheek. She ushered me in and announced me to the small crowd in the living room. I gave an awkward wave and quickly went to work scanning and logging the personnel, though Rachel didn't give me much of a chance. I counted just four others; two on the couch clearly forming a couple, a guy our age, and a girl too. She had to be Annie.
Rachel took my hand and pulled me to the kitchen. When we were hidden behind a wall, she tugged at the front of my shirt and brought me down for a proper kiss. I smiled, instantly at ease. "Drink?" she asked. I said sure. She pointed at the red wine still in my grip, and clarified, "I'm having white." I said that was fine, and she turned to fetch a cup. The cabinet was stacked bottom to top with glassware and anything from the lower shelves would have been fine, but Rachel made a point of reaching high up. I was reminded of the first time she and I were alone together in a back room, when removing items from shelves had instigated an exhilarating session of mutual pleasure. I stood back and watched her go onto the tips of her toes. Her stretch shifted her dress and rose its fringe a few inches upward, exposing the under-curve of her left butt cheek, and just the faintest lines of the lacy white fabric that intersected her. Normally I'd recognize this for what it was: an invitation to meet her from behind, pull the dress a little higher, and her panties either down or to the side. With her friends a room away, of course I had to resist, but there's no question Rachel wanted me thinking about it.
We took our wine into the living room and Rachel made introductions. The two on the couch were Jessie and Craig, who were married and each more attractive than the other. The other dude was called Nick. He shook my hand and seemed friendly if quiet. And then there was Annie. Rachel's oldest friend was thin and on the taller side. She had dark hair, and it was reddish but in a rich deliberate sort of way. She had these minimalist tattoos around her wrists and one behind an ear. They were hard to make out; just grey lines and characters. Annie's dress was burgundy to match her hair, but for its darkness, it was summery nonetheless. I was surprised by her appearance, honestly. I'm not sure why. But there was no denying to any rational person, Annie was hot beyond description, and when she said "So nice to meet you," she winked at me, making her all the more so.
To my relief, small talk had been exhausted during my tardiness. I took a seat at the open-most end of the coffee table and Rachel sat opposite me next to Annie. They sat quite the same, cross-legged and otherwise relaxed, but their looks were different; Rachel porcelain and angelic, Annie mysterious with pink cheeks and a coy, withholding smirk.
Jessie explained we were playing Prompt, which is where a bunch of personal questions get put into a hat and the group takes turns drawing questions and answering them. You have to answer the question, but you can use as little detail as you want unless someone shouts "Prompt!" and then you have to tell the whole story. But each person only has to do one Prompt so you don't want to waste it if you think that person might have a juicier story later on. I was not familiar with this game and would not have known the tone of the questions, but I missed the submission round anyway. It would all be a surprise.