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her life.

Going into work the next morning, Wendy felt a sense of relief that was almost giddy; Janet liked her. She felt a sense of nervousness that would’ve given Larry King three heart attacks. She’d actually admitted some of the things she wanted to do with Janet. They could actually happen. Or Janet could think she was a sick freak, or a wussy sick freak who wasn’t even sure about being peed on, or just…not enough. Not pretty enough, not experienced enough, not old enough. Whatever she wanted to give Janet, it didn’t tip the scales; too bad, so sad, go to the back of the line.

It was no small wonder that Wendy tried assiduously to feel nothing at all. Just get it over with, Janet, and tell me you want to fuzzy handcuff someone else. Or Janet could bend her over that desk, giving Wendy a once-in-a-lifetime enjoyment of a sex act involving hardwood. That was a good possibility. Wendy could get high on that possibility. It was a possibility so good, she almost wanted to wait on it happening so she could keep anticipating it. If only she could rule out the possibility of Janet doing the other thing, the thing with no sex!

Wendy entered Janet’s office clutching her purse like she was doing a drug deal. “Is it true bread helps with hangovers?”

“Does bread help with…” Janet paused. “Are you on lunch break?”

“I think I’ve been on lunch break since I drank the worm.” Wendy limped over to Janet’s desk, helped herself to a chair, and slumped down in it. “Why?”

“I just don’t like to be conducting personal business on company time.”

Wendy smiled. This definitely didn’t seem to be going in a ‘let’s not have sex’ direction. “So we’re having lunch together?”

“I suppose, technically—”

“You order pizza? I think I could stomach some pizza.”

Brow furrowed, Janet reached down to open a drawer. “I have some power bars. And a bottle of water.”

“That’ll do,” Wendy said. “I suppose I should pack a lunch. Then I can just bring it in here and we can do lunch that way.”

“Or we could eat out,” Janet said.

There was a slight pause.

“Should I wink?” Wendy asked.

“I think you should’ve winked.”

“Sorry, I might still be a little drunk.”

Janet handed her a water bottle and two power bars.

Wendy took the bottle, uncapped it, gulped down water, then paused to say, “So, get any good e-mails lately?” Then drank more.

“I did,” Janet announced evenly. She turned to her laptop. “‘Dear Boss MILF, have you ever seen the movie Ella Enchanted? In it, Ella, played by Anne Hathaway, is under a spell where she has to do whatever anyone tells her to do, no matter how embarrassed it makes her. I think it’d be kinda hot if I dressed up as Ella and you told me to do stuff and maybe I cried a little and then we did sex.’” Janet paused a moment. “And this next line is either a typo or a saying in Swahili.”

Wendy pursed her lips. “Probably a typo.”

“Yes. Moving on. ‘P.S. no butt stuff.’” Janet resolutely tapped on her keyboard to close the e-mail, then just stared at Wendy, as unimpressed as a Downton Abbey character would be with the poor.

“I was drunk,” Wendy said. “We can negotiate on the butt stuff. Wait, who would be doing the butt stuff and who would be receiving?”

“Is this you making fun of me?”

Wendy held her hands up. “No, Ella Enchanted is actually a pretty good movie. I mean, it’s no Princess Bride, what is? But it’s a pretty good-faith effort. It has Hugh Dancy from Hannibal, which gives the whole thing an added layer of hilarity if you’re a Hannibal fan, which you should be, and they also got Eric Idle, and Anne Hathaway is great in it, I really don’t understand the backlash, she’s talented, she’s charming—”

“Wendy!”

“—willing to do nude scenes.” Wendy stopped and held her head. “I promise, I’m not making fun of you.”

“What does MILF mean?”

“Mother I’d Like to…Friend.”

Janet nodded, as if that made sense. “I thought we were going to have an…an intimacy. I told you what I wanted you to do and you seemed fine with it.”

“I was! I am! But Janet, look at this thing.” Wendy plonked her purse down on Janet’s desk and wrestled the supposed vibrator out of it. “I mean, come on! If I ran an auto shop, I wouldn’t have enough lube for that! Who do you think I’ve been dating, the Expendables?”

“It has a very high user rating on Amazon!” Janet objected, trying hard to look Wendy in the eye as Wendy waved the thing in front of her face.

“Well, then the company had to have paid for good reviews, because there is no way that many women have a fantasy of being fucked by Ultron.”

Elizabeth chose then to poke her head in the door. “Jan, Mr. Marlowe needs an answer on the conference, ASAP.” She didn’t actually raise an eyebrow at the sight of a vibrator being waved in her boss’s face, but managed to convey one entirely through voice. “Didn’t Indiana Jones find that in his last movie?”

Wendy stuffed it back in her purse. Naturally, it didn’t quite fit.

Janet leaned to one side of her. “Tell Marlowe I’m reviewing the options right now.”

Elizabeth closed the door behind her.

Wendy successfully got her purse to do a sword-swallowing act. “I mean, I get that that part is to stimulate my clit, but what are all these for? How many clits do you think I have?” She looked up to see Janet jotting out a quick e-mail. “Seriously?”

Janet stopped, slapping her hands down on the keyboard with a crunch of keys. Then she took her hands away and backspaced through all the gibberish she’d just made. “This was a mistake.”

“It’s okay, you can just press Ctrl-Z.”

“No, this.” Janet slammed the laptop shut. “I gave you a simple instruction to gauge your willingness to enter into an arrangement, and the next day, all

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