RICK
I leave the office at seven. It’s Friday evening. It seems that I’m not the only one who worked later than usual. I ride the elevator to the ground floor with one of the most beautiful women I have ever seen. I am surprised I have never seen her in the building before. I would have noticed her for sure.
Me and every other hot-blooded male in the building, I tell myself.
She’s a killer. Her perfume takes over the elevator like a humidifier working overtime. It’s a nice perfume and I inhale deeply without making it obvious.
I can’t let her go without at least trying my luck. “Excuse me. Do you work in the building?”
She looks at me, her gaze assessing me, and then, deciding she likes what she sees, smiles at me. Her smile exudes confidence and, when combined with her power perfume
