“Right, but I need to see you in action.” Well, that’s a terrible choice of words. “On a date, I mean.”
Eyeing me skeptically, she asks, “What do you propose then? Some sort of sophisticated spy equipment? Or maybe you could hide inside an artificial plant and eavesdrop on my next date? It’s going to have to be a pretty big plant though…” Her gaze drifts over me like she’s sizing me up for an appropriately sized fake Ficus.
“I think we should go on a practice date.”
Margot’s eyes widen. After a few long, quiet seconds, she asks, “You mean a double date, right? With other people?”
Actually, that would make a lot of sense. Why didn’t I think of that? I mull the idea over in my head, but something about it doesn’t sit right with me, so I stick to my original plan.
“No, I mean a date with each other.”
Her eyes flick over my face, looking for any sign that I’m joking. When she realizes I’m not, Margot swallows hard enough that I hear it from across the desk.
“Not a real date, of course,” I add. “More like a coaching session.”
My nerves tick under my skin. I’m not sure if it’s because I think she might say no, or because I’m worried that I’ve just crossed a line that might do irreparable damage to our friendship. In my head, this seemed like an easy and obvious solution, but now I’m wondering if it’s anything but easy or obvious.
She’s taking forever to respond, which only makes me more nervous.
“You can say no, of course,” I tell her. “I won’t be offended.”
“No, it’s not that. I think it’s a good idea, and I want to, but…”
Another long pause follows.
“But what?”
“I’m just not sure how well it will work,” she admits. “My biggest problem is that I’m too quiet around new people. It takes me a while to open up, and they think I’m either uninteresting or just uninterested in them. But I’m already comfortable around you, so I’m not sure the same problem would present itself.”
The band of tension squeezing my chest loosens a little. Of course, Margot is just being her normal, practical self, and she makes a valid point.
“I’ll figure something out,” I tell her. “How’s Friday night?”
She nods, looking nervous but excited. “I’m free Friday.”
“Great, I’ll pick you up at eight. Now, do you want to stay and listen to me chew out the HR rep who selected the guy we just interviewed?”
She laughs. “I’d love to, but I have some other work to finish up.”
I nod, and Margot stands, collecting her paperwork and pen from my desk. She crosses the room but pauses with her hand resting on the door handle.
“Thank you, Ethan,” she says. “I really do appreciate it.”
***
When I arrive at Margot’s apartment on Friday night, I’m fully prepared for her to laugh at my ridiculous disguise. She had a good point about already being too comfortable with me. If we’re going to practice bringing her out of her shell, I figured it would help if I played the role of someone else.
Adjusting my fake mustache, I knock on her door. The lock clicks and the door opens slowly. My amused smile fades the second I lay eyes on Margot.
She’s wearing a little red dress. The neckline is cut straight across, dipping low enough to reveal the soft swell of her cleavage. It hugs her waist and barely grazes the tops of her thighs. My eyes rake down her body, taking in every inch of her pale skin. The way I stare is completely inappropriate, so I try to force my eyes up to meet hers, but they catch on her lips instead. They look full and plump under a layer of red lipstick that matches her dress.
“H-hi,” I stammer.
You’d swear I had never seen tits before. Hers aren’t even all that big or all that exposed, but this is more of Margot than I’ve ever seen before. Apparently, my dick didn’t get the memo about this being a fake date.
Then, she snorts.
Her laughter makes her breasts heave and strain against the tight fabric of the dress. It does nothing to resolve the situation in my pants.