Miss Denmark

an actual conversation

He stood and sat down on the other side of the desk.

I looked at him. Did he just want to have sex with me? "Why did you invite me today?" I asked. "And Tuesday?"

He put the lid back on his bottle. "Go with my on Saturday." He said.

"It sounds more like a statement than a question," I said.

His jaw moved sharply back and forth. "Do you want to go with me this Saturday?" he asked flippantly. The added emphasis on 'want' made it weird.

"Where to?" I asked.

He fought not to snap at me and kick me out. "Investor meeting," he said.

"Sounds interesting," I remarked dryly and took a bite of my food.

My comment produced a teeny tiny smile on his lips. The one he tried to suppress but which ended up being reflected on his entire face.

"It is," he said.

"Then why wanting me there?" I asked.

Now he wasn't next to me, he could focus on eating. "We aren't together in any way, and you are the only one who's been able to win over photographer's and other people, and to have them believe we're together." He said. "It makes me appear less like an asshole."

I smiled. "It doesn't explain why I have to go meet your investors."

He wiped his mouth with a napkin. "Do you need a reason?" he asked.

"I don't know," I said. "But it's just weird you invite me when we barely know one another."

He didn't have a comeback answer to that one.

I packed up the remaining food and drank more water.

"I enjoyed eating breakfast with you," he said.

"I don't have to meet your investors for that to happen again," I said. "We're eating together now?"

He scratched his jaw. In honor of the occasion he were day old stubbles on his face. It had him look, somehow, more human. A little like he wasn't a fictitious character on the other side of the desk. Or a fictitious character in an erotic... forget it. I could think about my work later.

"It's nice not showing up alone," he said.

"Don't expect we'll be more than friends," I warned him.

His eyebrows dived down to put his eyes in shadow. "I understand the message," he snapped.

"Good," I said. "Can I take the remaining food home? You know, avoid wasting food?"

He nodded. "Are you leaving?" he asked.

"I have to get back to work," I said and stood.

He looked up at me. "My apartment at three," he said. "Jazz will pick you up."

I raised an eyebrow. "No," I said. "I'll take the metro."

"Are you only saying that to spite me?" he asked.

"Yes and no," I said.

His eyebrows dived down, causing his eyes to be in shadow.

"Yes, I do it to spite you because you're not one to decide what I can and can't do. No, because I feel better arriving on my own," I said.

He didn't say anything.

"Have a nice day, I'll see you tomorrow," I said and left his office.

Whatever he gained from that.

My dinner was leftovers from lunch and then a bun. I wrote with a few I went to college with and which lived everywhere but New York – I was the only one with city life dreams, so I was the only one living in New York. And on Manhattan.

I went to bed semi-early.

Mom was in my dreams that night.