Page 3 of Baby Girl

“I want to watch you walk, Kelli with an “I”. Your walk has purpose. I watched you walk past Darwin’s office. I enjoy seeing your legs propel you. Walk for me.”

She scanned the area as if to see if there was anyone that may question her leaving the receptionist desk. Walking around from the rear of the desk, she stepped beside me, and began to walk toward the restroom. As she did, I studied her body. Her stride. Smelling a combination of her hair products and perfume, I walked behind her toward the restroom. When she was even with the entrance, she turned, facing me, and pointed to the restroom.

“It’s right over there, Erik,” she said. She barely pronounced the “K”. It was almost as if she ended the name with an “I”.

I walked two more steps to reach her, and leaned in toward her face when I spoke. Taking my right index finger I moved her hair to the side, allowing me to speak directly into her ear. I spoke softly, but with an exaggerated exhale, so she could feel my breath on her ear.

“It’s Erik with a “K”, Kelli. Enunciate…,” I said, smiling, and continued, “Follow me to my motorcycle,” I started walking to the exit.

“But I can’t, I have to stay…”

I continued walking, knowing eventually she would follow me. I didn’t turn around or look for her reflection in the glass of the office windows. As I reached the door to the outside, I stood to the side, opened it, and waited. Incapable of hiding her excitement entirely, she quickly caught up to me and walked through the door. I released the door and stepped onto the sidewalk. I walked past her, and began walking to where the motorcycle was parked.

“So…uhhm…what are you thinking?”

I continued walking the remaining ten steps, reaching the motorcycle before I spoke. “I’m thinking that it interests me that you’re interested in me,” I said as I reached down to put the key into the ignition.

“I’m interested in you? You asked me to lead the way to the bathroom, and then you told me to follow you out to your motorcycle. I think you’re mixed up,” she said as she turned and studied the motorcycle.

“I placed a business card on the elevated portion of your desk. On your left as your facing the showroom from your desk. Before your head hits the pillow tonight, Kelli, I want you to text me. Text me and let me know that you’re going to call me. After I return the text, I want you to call me, so be in a position to do so,” I stepped over the motorcycle, and rested onto the seat.

“What makes you think that I am interested in texting or calling you?”

“The fact that you are, Kelli. The fact that you are,” I said as I reached down and started the motorcycle. She was still admiring the motorcycle and studying me. It was apparent that she wasn’t ready for this to end.

“So, what exactly is it? Not that I would, but can someone ride on the back?” nodding toward the motorcycle, she spoke over the sound of the exhaust.

“It’s a chopper, Kelli. Kind of like a Harley, but modified. And yes, there’s an additional seat that attaches in the rear so someone can ride.”

As Darwin pulled the black M3 into the stall beside the motorcycle, she looked up.

“Erik, here’s your car, where are you going?” Darwin asked as he rolled down the passenger window.

“I’m going for a ride; just deliver the car to my house. Send the paperwork with the driver. And have someone follow him, I’m not giving him a ride back on this,” I said as I pointed toward gas tank of the motorcycle.

Turning back to Kelli, who was looking at Darwin, I spoke, “Kelli, I will talk to you tonight. Left side of the desk,” I said as I pulled in the clutch lever and placed the gear shifter into gear.

She spoke as she was turning, and began walking toward the entrance, “Yesss...”

Over the sound of the exhaust, the audible note of her voice was lost as she turned. I couldn’t tell for sure, but it almost sounded as if she said, “Yes, sir” I released the clutch and hit the throttle, quickly speeding out of the lot into the street in front of the dealership.

Maybe that’s just what I wanted to hear her say.

Yes, sir.

KELLI. “Boys are stupid, it’s that easy,” I said, trying to make Heather feel better.

“Well, he acted like he wanted to be my boyfriend, he was such a douche. I hope I never see him again. What an asshole.”

“Just get drunk, Heather, you’ll feel better when you forget about him. Getting drunk will loosen you up,” I waved my arm so the waiter could see that we needed a drink.

“Do you like my hair,” Heather asked, flipping up her hair with her hand.

“Trim?” I asked.

“Yeah, I had that Asian chick at Planet Hair do it,” she responded, spinning around in her chair on the floor.

“Yeah it looks great. Your hair always looks healthy,” I said, lying.