no quarter
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Walking side-by-side with death
The devil mocks their every step, ooh
The snow drives back the foot that's slow
The dogs of doom are howling more

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On Thursday I didn't see him. Not even a glimpse. That helped me mentally prepare for whatever was going to happen on Friday. Helena Williams, Dawson's secretary, was the one who informed me that Mr. White didn't stop by the company on that particular day because he was busy with some other work-related matter. That middle-aged woman liked to gossip, so I even got a long list of women who were crushing on Hector at the time. Spoiler alert: there were a lot of them. No surprise there.

"Why am I even calling him 'Hector' in my thoughts?" I whispered to myself. I didn't know him at all. His first name didn't belong on my lips. Not just yet; maybe never.

As I walked back into the building after my coffee break, a shadow formed beside me. My auburn hair slid to the side as I turned my head. My black eyes met Dawson's, and I smiled politely. I tightly held my frappuccino in my left hand and offered him a sip, which he denied. "You seem a little down today." I commented, trying not to sound rude.

"I'm just tired. My mother gave me the worst of the clients. It's a nightmare." The poor boy always had to prove himself to his parents.

"That sucks, Dawson." With my free right hand, I gave him a couple of pats on the shoulder.

"It would make my day better if you'd come to dinner with me."

I chuckled. It wasn't that I disliked Dawson's attention or that my thoughts about Mr. White kept me from seeing him. I simply wasn't ready for a superficial hookup. Because that's all there was to this. "Maybe next time, pal."

I was absolutely fine with him cringing when I called him that. I didn't feel bad at all; I had to be honest with him to avoid any weird situations in the office. I did not have the energy to initiate a sexual relationship with an extroverted 22-year-old with commitment issues. "Fine, Audrey, but I'll change your mind someday."

He waved at me and preceded me into the building. I watched his silhouette disappear once he entered the elevator. His office was on the third floor, after all. I slowly strolled down the first-floor corridor and turned left, only to find Paul and Tina chatting about work in front of the vending machine. She was glowing in that sexy new outfit. Paul probably noticed the change, he looked a little flirty.
The last thing I wanted to do was to interrupt them, so I silently entered my office and shut the door behind me. I placed my handbag on the desk and exhaled a breath I hadn't realized I was holding. A mountain of work awaited me right next to my bag, and the thought of reading it all made me exhausted. I pulled a cigarette and a lighter from my Calvin Klein purse and walked to the window. I needed a smoke. A solitary, peaceful smoke. I leaned against the window frame, unconcerned about anyone coming into the room. Although smoking was strictly prohibited in the building, it was one of those rules that everyone ignored at the time. I rolled the spark wheel of the lighter and a flame stabilized in front of my Marlboro, burning its tip. I took the longest drag and let out a smoky sigh into the air. London was always so beautiful at the beginning of spring, especially at that time of the afternoon.

"Sooo... you were right." I didn't turn to look at Tina, but her voice broke the romantic moment I was having all by myself. I heard her close the door again and listened as she recounted her conversation with Paul in detail. "He said I looked great today. And then he started talking about work. But still; he said I looked great today."

Knowing how much Tina was into that man, she probably would have written that sentence on her gravestone. "And then?" I invited her to continue.

"We talked about this fucking boring new best-seller, and then he had to make a call to Carla." She rolled her eyes, as jealous as always. "But guess what? As he said goodbye, he placed his hand on my waist. Isn't that kind of a sign?"

I encouraged her by nodding, but I didn't want to set unrealistic expectations for her. Paul was a difficult individual. Even Carla couldn't handle his stakhanovism.

"How about you, 'Rey?"

"What about me?"

"With Mr. Sexy Grandpa, duh."

"Oh come on, how is he a grandpa now?"

"Answer my question."

"I already told you. Nothing can happen between us. He's married and lives in a completely different reality." I delicately balanced the cigarette between my lips and used both of my hands to tie my hair up in a messy bun.

"Never say never, hun."

"This time it's never. Trust me, I wish it wasn't. I don't go after married men."

Tina agreed to disagree, and we returned to our tedious work until dinner time. I left work at eight o'clock and drove home. I filled the silence with another Depeche Mode song and rolled down the window to feel the freezing breeze. Yes, it was the beginning of spring, but it was still London at night. 'Watching you suffer / girl, it would please me' the song's lyrics read over an electronic beat. "I bet it would" I muttered, my eyes fixed on the road but my mind elsewhere.

I needed to get rid of all my lustful feelings for him, so that night I decided to take a hot bath, dress up, and find someone who could fuck these thoughts out of me. That way, I felt confident that I could face him in the morning.

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