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“I had the same thought.”
“He’s so sweet.”
“He also fessed up about not going to my parents’ bakery.”
“Oh good.”
“No, not good. Very bad, in fact. I need to keep thinking of him as a total dick,” I say, standing up and touching the rim of the basket.
“Life’s not fair sometimes. You’re just going to have to put up with having a handsome, charming, thoughtful guy follow you around all day.”
“Although we really don’t know that he’s not a total dick, do we? I mean, he literally possesses the ability to make thousands of women fall in love with him all at the same time, and he doesn’t even have to look directly at them to do it,” I say. “Someone with those skills could easily pretend to be a good guy. For all we know, he’s really quite evil.”
“Why do you sound happy about that possibility?”
“Because if he’s evil, I can continue ignoring him and get my work done,” I say. “Speaking of my work, I better see if I can get a few minutes in before he gets back from getting us coffees.”
“He’s getting you a coffee?”
“Unfortunately.”
“You’re nuts. Now, get to work.”
“Doing it,” I say, ending the call.
But instead of focusing, I stare at the basket for a second, my face heating up at the fact that an actual movie star bought that for me.
It’s very sweet. And thoughtful. And it’s also way too big and distracting to stay on my desk. I pick it up and carry it over to the two-drawer filing cabinet that sits against the far wall, then set it down. Hmm, what’s in here? Oranges, two bunches of the freshest-looking green grapes I’ve ever seen, bananas, pears wrapped in gold foil (for reasons I don’t understand), a box of chocolates, kiwis, strawberries, a bottle of what looks like very nice red wine, and a pineapple. Plucking a grape out of the bunch, I pop it in my mouth and take a bite, tasting a burst of juicy sweetness.
I pick up the box of chocolates and open it. “Why, yes, I think I wi?—”
I freeze because, out of the corner of my eye, I spot something moving in the basket. That was probably my imagination, right? On account of all the excitement. Nope. There it goes again. My heart pounds as my brain tries to reconcile what my eyes are seeing.
It’s a tarantula.
A mother fucking tarantula.
It must have been hiding in the bananas. Fucker.
I dry heave, then let out a scream, throwing the box of chocolates at it before running full speed to my desk, where I go in search of a weapon. Grabbing my stapler, I jump onto my chair so I’m kneeling, only to realize that it’s on wheels. It slams into my desk, my stomach hitting the back of my chair, causing an involuntary ‘oof’ sound. Bracing myself, I watch, my pulse racing as I see the spider crawling out of the basket and onto the floor.
I gag, then scream, “AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!! It’s coming for me!!!”
Down the hall, I hear the thumping of footsteps. Thank God! “Heeeellllppp!!!” I scream, my stomach lurching again.
Hudson comes rushing in carrying two mugs, both of which have liquid dripping down the sides.
I point at the floor. “A banana tarantula!”
“What?”
“Spider! Big one! Hairy!” Dry heave. “Right there!” I point more forcefully this time as if that’ll help him to actually see it.
He crouches down, glancing around at the floor. “Stay calm. I know what to do.” He sets down the coffees on his desk, then picks up my wastepaper basket and flips it over, emptying its contents onto the floor. “We just trap him in this.”
The spider must understand English because he scuttles toward me at a furious pace, as though I’m going to save him. “No! Scoot! Go back to the bananas!”
Oh my God, it’s going to climb up my chair. Remembering I’m holding a weapon, I throw the stapler at it, only to miss completely and watch helplessly as the stapler bounces off the floor and hits Hudson, who is hunched over trying to trap the spider with the garbage bin, right on his chiseled jaw. He drops the bin.
