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When she reaches the top, she suddenly stops, and I walk blindly into her backside since I was trying to avoid looking at it the entire time.
“Oops. I’m sorry,” I apologize half-heartedly, knowing that I didn’t mind my face anywhere near her body. “Why’d you stop?”
“Um, this door sticks, and I uh, forgot to tell you to put this stick in between it and the jamb so it wouldn’t close.”
“So, are you saying we are stuck down here?”
“Kinda. When my assistant gets back, she’ll let us out.”
I look at my phone. “How will she know? There’s no cell reception.”
“Oh, I know. That’s why I enjoy coming down here. After being trapped in here for nearly a day, you plan for these things.”
She saunters back down the stairs, opens the door to her mini-refrigerator, and grabs a couple bottles of water. I take one and sit near her drafting table. May as well get comfy.
“It won’t be long. She was going to grab some new fabrics that just came in and run a few more errands.”
“Oh, well. That’s not too bad. What, an hour or two depending on traffic?”
“Uh, not exactly. Those errands are in Baton Rouge, so maybe closer to three.”
I run my hands through my hair and try not to lose my cool.
“Does that open?” I look up at the small window that peers out onto the lawn and sidewalk surrounding her house.
“It does, actually, but I could never get it open. You’re welcome to try.”
I move the ladder over just a bit, and she agrees to hold it steady. I manage to unlock it, but it only extends a few inches. Not enough to squeeze through but enough to get some air circulating. I climb down and meet her face to face.
“See, you got some dirt on your cheek. Let me get that for you.” She gently wipes, removing any trace of dirt, then smiles and retreats to her table.
I’m a bit conflicted and rub the nape of my neck, letting out a silent scream before finding my composure. I have that phone call about the new project I’m going to miss. It isn’t a major meeting, just an update, and I had hoped to be presenting them with some design ideas. We both sit there in the quiet, listening to the sound of traffic and the occasional child go by. There’s a small single-stall bathroom down here and a pedestal sink. My attention returns to Kara who is removing her cardigan sweater, revealing smooth almond-covered shoulders. I begin to daydream about kissing those shoulders, unbuttoning her skirt, and allowing it to fall to the floor, showcasing her beautiful round ass and that purple thong.
“Purple must be your favorite color.”
“It’s one of them,” she replies. “What makes you say that?”
I try to figure out how I will back out of this, seeing how she doesn’t know I caught a glimpse up under her skirt earlier.
“Oh. I noticed a few of your accent pieces upstairs and a variety of fabrics down here in every possible shade.”
“I didn’t think it was that obvious.”
She laughs, and I smile, thanking the stars I was able to finagle my way around that.
“I think it’s beautiful. Royal, majestic—it commands attention. Like you.” The words escape my lips before I can stop them.
Her mouth drops open slightly, and she giggles, biting her lip in the process.
I’m not sure how she took that comment, so I figure since I started down this road I’d better continue the stroll. “Well, you know. You seem to have a great deal of confidence that makes others take notice. Were you always like this? I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be nosey.”
“No. No. Not nosey at all. Sometimes I’m not as confident as I appear. Like the interview yesterday. I swear I was sweating like a whore in church. But after talking with Mrs. Darlene, I pulled it together. Until you showed up.”
We both laugh and seem even more relaxed.
“Sorry. I have that presence about me—or so I’m told.”
“I can handle any personality type. But you had me flustered for a different reason.” She fiddles with her hair and plays with the necklace that sits right in the middle of her breasts, drawing my attention to them.
