Fridays. Josh hates Fridays. They're either slow and drag on for so long or they're so hectic that it's five o'clock and nothing is done. This was a one of those slow Fridays where you screw around on Youtube and hope the boss doesn't walk past. In Josh's case, that's Gina. Gina is a company woman. She is married, has her two kids, a picket fence, a fancy car, and a big rock on her finger. She has dark hair which is always in a tight bun. She always wears a pant suit too, something with a modest cut.
In fact the only time Josh can remember seeing her in jeans and with her hair down was at a company picnic a few years back. Her hair had a natural kind of wave to it under the ball cap she wore. He noticed her in a different way that day; she had her toddler on her hip and a lollipop in her mouth. She seemed almost human, not the sterile, straight faced boss but actually a mother, a wife. Josh didn't think much of Dave, her husband. He was nice but kind of a goof, he carried their older son on his shoulders but needed as much wrangling as the toddler. She was warm with them, patient, and smiled a lot. It was also on that day that he noticed her smile. Gina doesn't smile much at work; she doesn't have much occasion to, he reasoned.
Gina knocked on the frame of his office door, yanking him out of his revelry. "Joshua, could I see you in my office at about quarter to five? I have your evaluation prepared and I'd like to get your input before I send it to corporate."
"Sure thing!" Josh said, trying to sound chipper and not like she had just startled him out of a daydream.
"If you could please be punctual, I am going out after work tonight. I have a reservation at 5:30 at Macino's."
"I'll be there at 4:30, how's that? That way you can bounce a little early and not worry about the traffic."
"That would be splendid! Thank you, Joshua." She took one step back before turning and leaving.
As bosses go, she isn't bad. She's actually a good boss; she always says "please" and "thank you" even though she really doesn't have to. She buys him coffee the next morning if he had a bad day the day before. She is older than him and he figures she has had to deal with some real stuffed shirts at corporate over the years. He figures that's why she's so straight laced and professional at work but still a thoughtful and kind person because she's been put through the ringer a time or two.
He looked at his clock, one more game of Minesweeper then he would head up to see her. He turned in his self-evaluation a few weeks ago and heard nothing from her about it until now. He was actually a little excited. He checked his teeth and then his gelled hair in the pocket mirror in his desk. He unbuttoned his polo shirt so his collar laid nicely on his neck and headed out to the elevator.
When he got to Gina's office, her door was closed. He knocked softly in case she was in a meeting or something. "I'll be right there." Gina said from inside the office. A few moments passed. "Joshua is that you?"
"Yes ma'am, I'm a little early but I figured it wouldn't hurt if we started early. I can come back."
"It's okay Joshua, actually could you step in here quickly and close the door behind you. I think I need your help with something."
"Will do." With that, Josh opened the door, slid inside and closed the door quickly behind him. When he turned around he saw Gina in a long, black, strapless dress. She was facing away from him, the tiny zipper only half way up. Gina's hair was up in a claw clip and a few stray sausage curls had fallen loose. He admired her long neck and bare back exposed by the dress. She had some freckles on her shoulders from childhood sunburns and a tattoo of a swallow flying away with a heart in it's beak. "Nice tattoo." he blurted, kicking himself as the words ran out like impatient children before his tongue could catch them.
"Thank you, Joshua. It's for my dad, he died last year."
"I'm sorry." Josh remembered now and felt even worse. He had gotten her flowers when he found out; she had them for two weeks before they wilted. She still had the vase on a shelf in the corner. "I shouldn't have said anything. You said there was something I could help you with?"
"Yes, I feel a little sheepish to ask this but could you zip up my dress? I can't quite get it."
"No worries," his voice nearly cracked, "I can do that." His feet felt like bricks as he went to her. The muscles of her shoulders and back swam with tension beneath her skin. The whole room felt bigger to Josh in this moment, as though his steps would never bring him to her. He could see that she was nearly shaking as he finally reached her. She was covering her chest with a shawl; looking down, her eyes almost closed. Her shoulders raised and fell with each breath, softly, like a wave on the shore. She waited patiently.
He gently lifted a loose spiral of hair away from the zipper and placed it over her shoulder. Her neck muscles twitched as he did. He gently tried the zipper, it wouldn't budge, he tried a little harder and still nothing. "I think it's stuck, I'm going to back it down a little and try again."
"Okay, thank you." She turned her head slightly toward him.
He slowly lowered the zipper an inch or two looking for a thread or something caught in the track but found nothing. He began to zip the dress again and stopped to adjust the tracks. He was feeling daring. The devil on his shoulder pled a good case:
