When I showed up that night, she’d shed her suit coat and skirt and had on tight-fitting jeans and a bright blue shirt that showed off her figure. I’d never seen her like that. I’d seen her in her work clothes and in her running outfits but never anything this tight or this sexy.
She had a full meal of salmon, salad, and puff pastries ready. And there was beer. Two six-packs of her beer were sitting in ice beside the table.
“We’re not going to drink all that tonight, are we?” I asked, not quite sure where I was headed.
“Can you think of a better way to celebrate?”
“Nope,” I answered. “No better way.” I could feel my smile glowing.
We ate and laughed and talked and drank, then we ate and laughed and talked and drank some more. In between, she opened a bakery box filled with macaroons.
