"Thatis Satan's tiniest minion," I reply, glancing at the tiny creature who is currently kicking little pieces of bedding over the sides of its enclosure and straight onto my desk. "Otherwise known as a dwarf hamster. Ask me how much he cost."
Margot's eyebrows pinch together. "Okay, how much did your dwarf hamster cost, Ethan?"
"So far, two-hundred and forty-seven dollars. The hamster only cost seventeen, but then I was informed by a very pushy pet store employee that it requires this cage, plus a labyrinth of tubes, an exercise wheel, several bags of premium food, and let's not forget the twenty-dollar cube of recycled newspaper bits that need to be switched out daily to prevent the stink from emanating past the confines of its enclosure."
It's not that I dislike animals. A dog, a cat, maybe some sort of bird—those all make decent pets. This little dude, however, does not. He kept me up all night, making more noise than a toddler with a goddamn snare drum. When I finally gave up on sleeping, I came downstairs to find most of his bedding thrown overboard, covering my table like a thin layer of snow.
Yellow snow.
Did I mention the bedding was damp with urine?
Margot crosses the room with a confused look on her face. "So, you bought a hamster and brought it to work to… make people guess the cost of its habitat?"
"No, I bought a hamster for Sophia because she literally squealed at the sight of it yesterday at the pet store.”
“I thought you were taking her to the aquarium?”
I shake my head. “It was closed. Some sort of electrical problem. I figured the next best thing was that fancy pet store off Broadway with the exotic fish. We were on our way out of the store when Sophia saw the hamsters and fell in love. I couldn’t say no. Unfortunately, Rachel needed to go back home for a couple days due to a family emergency, so I agreed to watch him until they get back.”
One corner of Margot's mouth lifts. "And how's that going?"
In response, I hold up my right hand to display the patchwork of bandages on my fingers. "Poorly."
The pet store employee said that he should have an hour of exercise every day. Gumball (as Sophia calls him) disagrees. Every attempt to place him in his little plastic exercise ball was met with the fury of his tiny but sharp claws and dull but effective teeth. Once he finally complied with my very reasonable request to get in the stupid ball, I quickly learned that his favorite pastime is ramming into my baseboards repeatedly while simultaneously flinging feces everywhere through the tiny slots in the contraption.
“Lucy is stopping by soon to pick him up,” I explain.
Margot drops her head to one side, giving me an amused but chiding stare. “So, you were bested by a hamster?”
“I wasn’tbested by a hamster.” My voice drips with unearned indignity. “I got a call from Ridgeway’s lawyer early this morning. It sounds like they might try to pull out of the acquisition. I’m flying out to their corporate headquarters in Minneapolis this afternoon with Javier from our legal department to try to get things back on track. I’m not sure the airline allows hamsters as cabin pets.”
No need to mention the fact that I had already asked my cousin Lucy, who happens to be a pet sitter, to come and take the little beast off my hands before Ridgeway called.
“Oh,” Margot says, straightening up slightly. “Do you need anything from me before you leave?”
Yes, I need you to bend over this desk and let me fuck you one more time.
“No, I’m all set,” I say instead.
The silence that surrounds us is anything but comfortable. Margot shifts her weight to her other foot, adjusting her glasses and attempting a smile that doesn’t quite land right.
She’s wearing my favorite sweater today, the dark orange one. There’s nothing particularly revealing about it, but I like how cozy she always seems in it. I can see her curled up in an old library reading a book in that sweater. Today she’s wearing it with a black skirt, black tights, and these little suede boots that only come up to her ankle.
Against all of my better judgement, I consider how much I’d like to rip those tights right off from her. My fingers flex at the thought. I can practically hear the sound of the fabric tearing. The little gasp Margot would let out as that sound filled the silence and the cold office air hit her thighs.
The way Margot looks at me makes me wonder if she is reading my mind right now. It wouldn’t surprise me. Her eyes are caught on mine as she rolls her lips together, blushes, and then pulls her gaze away.
I glance away as well, hoping to diffuse the tension. But even with both of us staring squarely at Gumball, who is now darting around the cage like he’s consumed his body weight in cocaine, the air still buzzes around us.
We agreed that Saturday night was a one-time thing.
We agreed not to mention it here at work.
But I can’t leave for this trip without making sure that we’re okay.
“Margot,” I say her name softly, a hint of warning in my voice to let her know that I’m about to mention the thing we both agreed not to mention.
Her eyes find mine again. Her chest rises with a deep intake of air.